Dive : Chapter 47
Title: Dive : Chapter 47
Pairing: MPhelps/RLochte;
Fandom: RPF
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Real person fiction; Real person slash; Drug use
Summary: In which Michael gets an opportunity and takes it.
Notes: 1587 words! This is not the final chapter, there are still a few more & there will also be an epilogue. Oh, what a bumpy ride this has been! Thank you to everyone who still has their seatbelts on!
"Where have you been?" Ryan asks him.
The cafeteria is buzzing with conversation, and it's unclear whether the majority of it is about Ryan, Kyle, or Michael. A thousand eyes keep glancing their way, though, and Michael's pulse is beating way too fast after his trip to the bathroom with Sophie Dearbold.
He shrugs, because he's not sure exactly what to say. Ryan stares at him hard, stares at him in such a way that it seems like he's figuring it all out without Michael anyway. Then he stands up, scrapes his chair back.
"I can't believe you." His voice is quiet, Michael can barely hear him over all the talking in the room.
"What?" He asks, playing dumb.
Ryan shakes his head once, snatching up his books, then turns and walks off. Michael starts to go after him, but Cullen grabs his arm and pulls him back into his seat.
"The rumors are bad enough. Chill, man."
So Michael tries to chill, drumming his fingers a mile a minute on the lunch table while he rubs his nose with his other hand.
- - -
Michael is on his way to Chemistry class when Coach Bowman catches up to him in the hall.
"Michael, do you have a minute?"
Michael hesitates, glancing at the door to the classroom.
"I'll write you an excuse."
He shrugs, "Sure."
Following Bob Bowman to his office, Michael feels a deep sense of dread. He knows what the coach is going to say before he can even say it.
"The PTO has voted for you to be removed from my swimteam, Michael." He shuts the door behind the two of them with a click.
Even though it was expected, Michael's heart sinks. Dropping his gaze to the floor, he studies the scuffed toes of his sneakers and doesn't answer. For some reason, he'd still held on to the hope that maybe Ryan could magically fix it all. But he should have known better than that.
But Bob isn't finished, "I think it's really the best thing for you." Michael looks up in surprise and Bob is smiling, "Michael, have you ever considered swimming as a career?"
Michael furrows his brow, "Like a lifeguard?"
"No. Like an Olympian." Bob's smile only gets bigger, "The trials for next year's Olympics are coming up, and I'd like to take you on as a private student because I think you could win gold, Phelps. I think you have a talent for swimming, a natural-born talent, and you're wasting it in that pool."
Michael doesn't really know what to say. He lets the idea settle on him, gives himself a chance to get used to the idea of swimming on that level.
Then he smiles back at Bob, "Actually, that sounds kind of cool. Do you really think I can do it?"
"I have confidence in you, Michael. Your times are equal to that of past qualifiers, but they could be even better. I'm not going to lie to you, this is going to be a lot of work. This is a big commitment of your time, are you ready to do that?"
Michael thinks of his failing grades and just nods, "Yeah, I know. I'm interested."
- - -
They don't see each other until Spanish class. On his way down the hall, Michael thinks of the best way to tell Ryan about his decision, but when he walks in the classroom, Ryan gives him such a dark look that he sits down in the seat behind him without a word.
Michael is too high to concentrate on the board. He jiggles his leg and thinks about his talk with the coach, going over every single word again and again until the bell rings and he stands up, closing his binder on the blank sheet of paper he was supposed to be writing his notes on.
He goes to walk out, but Ryan snatches him by the sleeve, stopping him.
"Michael, wait."
They leave the classroom and go outside, around back to their favorite pair of bushes. Ryan is pacing more than Michael, running his fingers through his curls again and again.
Michael thinks about how they're missing practice, and then how only one of them is.
So he speaks first, "They kicked me off the swim team."
Ryan stops pacing then, "What? No." He sounds so dismayed, "They can't do that."
Michael looks away, looks down at the ground and scuffs his sneakers through the damp grass, "Well, actually, Coach gave me another option." He can't look up, "He said he could take me on as a private student. For. . . um, for the Olympics."
"What?" Ryan asks again. Quick and harsh.
Michael keeps staring at his feet, "Well, he said I could do it, he said my times are just as fast as past-"
"What?" Ryan repeats, "What? What?" He laughs, and it's even harsher than his words, "So you're dropping out. So now you're leaving school and I'm stuck here."
Michael winces, "Ryan, this is my only chance. I'm not good at school, I've always wanted something like this-"
"But what about me?" Ryan demands, "I put everything on the line for you!"
Michael bites the inside of his lip, hesitates, ". . . You can still take it back."
He's shocked when Ryan grabs him by each side of his jacket. Balling his fists in the fabric, he shakes Michael back and forth violently.
"Ryan!" Michael gasps, and finally he has to look up and into his face.
"I can't take back how I feel!" Ryan screams in his face, and then he stops shaking Michael and grabs him in a hug, "When are you going to stop being a fuck up and do this with me?!"
That hurts. Michael hisses in a breath and bites his lip harder.
"You're so high right now you don't even care about this. . ." Ryan says into his shoulder, "You think I don't know that? You think I don't hear about it when you go into the bathroom with Sophie Dearbold?"
Michael closes his eyes.
"You're too much of a coward to admit it. That's fine, I can deal." Ryan squeezes him harder, "But don't pretend you don't love me just so you can drop out of school now that shit's hard. Don't do that."
"Ryan, you can still get your old life back-"
"I don't want my old life back!" He finally lets Michael go, trying to make eye contact with him, "Are you seriously saying we went through all of this for noth-"
"It doesn't change the swim team."
"I can fix it. They can't kick you off for being gay, Michael, that's totally against your human rights. It's bullshit." He pauses, "Let me try to fix it."
Michael looks away, bites his lip so hard he tastes blood, ". . . Ryan. . . I already signed a paper. My mom agreed. I'm supposed to start training next month."
Ryan blinks in surprise, "What?" He blinks again, "So that's it?"
Michael shrugs.
"So you weren't asking me, you're telling me." Ryan sneers, "So I put up with lugging your drunk ass around for months and you won't deal with a little talking behind your back for seven hours?"
"It's not about that. This is my life, my career. I'm going to be in the Olympics. You could try being proud, you know."
"I was proud." Ryan says, "But how proud can I be when you're high as a fucking kite right now?"
Michael flushes, "That's not the point."
"Um, okay. You know they're going to drug test for the Olympic trials. Can you even pass?"
"Ryan, I want to do this. I've always wanted it. Please stop."
"I want you here with me!"
Michael sighs, "We can still be together, Ryan. Just not at school. I'm sorry, okay? I wish you'd just support me on this."
Beats of silence pass between them. Ryan paces some more and then finally he sighs too, sighs and gives in.
"I'm sorry. I just found out or I would have stopped you before-"
Ryan shakes his head, "It doesn't matter. I needed to grow a pair and own up to it, anyway."
Michael hesitates for a split second, then reaches out to hold both of Ryan's hands in his own, "I still love you, Lochte. Even if you can be a little harsh." He smiles slightly, testing the waters.
Ryan smiles back slowly, "Yeah, yeah. I still love you, even if you are a little bit of a fuck up."
They laugh, and Michael hugs him, and it's okay again.
- - -
Ryan doesn't go to swimming. They sit in his car at the back of the parking lot and talk about what happens next.
"So what now? For you." Michael hangs one foot out the window, jiggling it endlessly.
"I think. . . well." He looks away and out the window, "I was thinking we could go on and make this thing official. If you want."
Michael feels his heart drop to somewhere around his stomach.
Ryan pulls at invisible threads on his jeans, ". . . Even though you won't be enrolled anymore, I was thinking. . ." He swallows, "Michael, do you wanna maybe go to the Christmas dance with me? I know it's a long way off, but you'll probably have to schedule it in with all your practices and stuff-"
"Yes!" Michael blurts, "Shut up yes yes yes." He pulls his foot back in and dives across the center console to hug Ryan around the neck, "Are you for real?!"
Ryan actually flushes red, "Yeah. . ."
Michael kisses him, and they don't talk for quite a few minutes. When he does pull back, he fixes Ryan with a serious look.
"But what about your dad?"
Ryan nods slowly, "Yeah, I have to handle that."
Pairing: MPhelps/RLochte;
Fandom: RPF
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Real person fiction; Real person slash; Drug use
Summary: In which Michael gets an opportunity and takes it.
Notes: 1587 words! This is not the final chapter, there are still a few more & there will also be an epilogue. Oh, what a bumpy ride this has been! Thank you to everyone who still has their seatbelts on!
"Where have you been?" Ryan asks him.
The cafeteria is buzzing with conversation, and it's unclear whether the majority of it is about Ryan, Kyle, or Michael. A thousand eyes keep glancing their way, though, and Michael's pulse is beating way too fast after his trip to the bathroom with Sophie Dearbold.
He shrugs, because he's not sure exactly what to say. Ryan stares at him hard, stares at him in such a way that it seems like he's figuring it all out without Michael anyway. Then he stands up, scrapes his chair back.
"I can't believe you." His voice is quiet, Michael can barely hear him over all the talking in the room.
"What?" He asks, playing dumb.
Ryan shakes his head once, snatching up his books, then turns and walks off. Michael starts to go after him, but Cullen grabs his arm and pulls him back into his seat.
"The rumors are bad enough. Chill, man."
So Michael tries to chill, drumming his fingers a mile a minute on the lunch table while he rubs his nose with his other hand.
- - -
Michael is on his way to Chemistry class when Coach Bowman catches up to him in the hall.
"Michael, do you have a minute?"
Michael hesitates, glancing at the door to the classroom.
"I'll write you an excuse."
He shrugs, "Sure."
Following Bob Bowman to his office, Michael feels a deep sense of dread. He knows what the coach is going to say before he can even say it.
"The PTO has voted for you to be removed from my swimteam, Michael." He shuts the door behind the two of them with a click.
Even though it was expected, Michael's heart sinks. Dropping his gaze to the floor, he studies the scuffed toes of his sneakers and doesn't answer. For some reason, he'd still held on to the hope that maybe Ryan could magically fix it all. But he should have known better than that.
But Bob isn't finished, "I think it's really the best thing for you." Michael looks up in surprise and Bob is smiling, "Michael, have you ever considered swimming as a career?"
Michael furrows his brow, "Like a lifeguard?"
"No. Like an Olympian." Bob's smile only gets bigger, "The trials for next year's Olympics are coming up, and I'd like to take you on as a private student because I think you could win gold, Phelps. I think you have a talent for swimming, a natural-born talent, and you're wasting it in that pool."
Michael doesn't really know what to say. He lets the idea settle on him, gives himself a chance to get used to the idea of swimming on that level.
Then he smiles back at Bob, "Actually, that sounds kind of cool. Do you really think I can do it?"
"I have confidence in you, Michael. Your times are equal to that of past qualifiers, but they could be even better. I'm not going to lie to you, this is going to be a lot of work. This is a big commitment of your time, are you ready to do that?"
Michael thinks of his failing grades and just nods, "Yeah, I know. I'm interested."
- - -
They don't see each other until Spanish class. On his way down the hall, Michael thinks of the best way to tell Ryan about his decision, but when he walks in the classroom, Ryan gives him such a dark look that he sits down in the seat behind him without a word.
Michael is too high to concentrate on the board. He jiggles his leg and thinks about his talk with the coach, going over every single word again and again until the bell rings and he stands up, closing his binder on the blank sheet of paper he was supposed to be writing his notes on.
He goes to walk out, but Ryan snatches him by the sleeve, stopping him.
"Michael, wait."
They leave the classroom and go outside, around back to their favorite pair of bushes. Ryan is pacing more than Michael, running his fingers through his curls again and again.
Michael thinks about how they're missing practice, and then how only one of them is.
So he speaks first, "They kicked me off the swim team."
Ryan stops pacing then, "What? No." He sounds so dismayed, "They can't do that."
Michael looks away, looks down at the ground and scuffs his sneakers through the damp grass, "Well, actually, Coach gave me another option." He can't look up, "He said he could take me on as a private student. For. . . um, for the Olympics."
"What?" Ryan asks again. Quick and harsh.
Michael keeps staring at his feet, "Well, he said I could do it, he said my times are just as fast as past-"
"What?" Ryan repeats, "What? What?" He laughs, and it's even harsher than his words, "So you're dropping out. So now you're leaving school and I'm stuck here."
Michael winces, "Ryan, this is my only chance. I'm not good at school, I've always wanted something like this-"
"But what about me?" Ryan demands, "I put everything on the line for you!"
Michael bites the inside of his lip, hesitates, ". . . You can still take it back."
He's shocked when Ryan grabs him by each side of his jacket. Balling his fists in the fabric, he shakes Michael back and forth violently.
"Ryan!" Michael gasps, and finally he has to look up and into his face.
"I can't take back how I feel!" Ryan screams in his face, and then he stops shaking Michael and grabs him in a hug, "When are you going to stop being a fuck up and do this with me?!"
That hurts. Michael hisses in a breath and bites his lip harder.
"You're so high right now you don't even care about this. . ." Ryan says into his shoulder, "You think I don't know that? You think I don't hear about it when you go into the bathroom with Sophie Dearbold?"
Michael closes his eyes.
"You're too much of a coward to admit it. That's fine, I can deal." Ryan squeezes him harder, "But don't pretend you don't love me just so you can drop out of school now that shit's hard. Don't do that."
"Ryan, you can still get your old life back-"
"I don't want my old life back!" He finally lets Michael go, trying to make eye contact with him, "Are you seriously saying we went through all of this for noth-"
"It doesn't change the swim team."
"I can fix it. They can't kick you off for being gay, Michael, that's totally against your human rights. It's bullshit." He pauses, "Let me try to fix it."
Michael looks away, bites his lip so hard he tastes blood, ". . . Ryan. . . I already signed a paper. My mom agreed. I'm supposed to start training next month."
Ryan blinks in surprise, "What?" He blinks again, "So that's it?"
Michael shrugs.
"So you weren't asking me, you're telling me." Ryan sneers, "So I put up with lugging your drunk ass around for months and you won't deal with a little talking behind your back for seven hours?"
"It's not about that. This is my life, my career. I'm going to be in the Olympics. You could try being proud, you know."
"I was proud." Ryan says, "But how proud can I be when you're high as a fucking kite right now?"
Michael flushes, "That's not the point."
"Um, okay. You know they're going to drug test for the Olympic trials. Can you even pass?"
"Ryan, I want to do this. I've always wanted it. Please stop."
"I want you here with me!"
Michael sighs, "We can still be together, Ryan. Just not at school. I'm sorry, okay? I wish you'd just support me on this."
Beats of silence pass between them. Ryan paces some more and then finally he sighs too, sighs and gives in.
"I'm sorry. I just found out or I would have stopped you before-"
Ryan shakes his head, "It doesn't matter. I needed to grow a pair and own up to it, anyway."
Michael hesitates for a split second, then reaches out to hold both of Ryan's hands in his own, "I still love you, Lochte. Even if you can be a little harsh." He smiles slightly, testing the waters.
Ryan smiles back slowly, "Yeah, yeah. I still love you, even if you are a little bit of a fuck up."
They laugh, and Michael hugs him, and it's okay again.
- - -
Ryan doesn't go to swimming. They sit in his car at the back of the parking lot and talk about what happens next.
"So what now? For you." Michael hangs one foot out the window, jiggling it endlessly.
"I think. . . well." He looks away and out the window, "I was thinking we could go on and make this thing official. If you want."
Michael feels his heart drop to somewhere around his stomach.
Ryan pulls at invisible threads on his jeans, ". . . Even though you won't be enrolled anymore, I was thinking. . ." He swallows, "Michael, do you wanna maybe go to the Christmas dance with me? I know it's a long way off, but you'll probably have to schedule it in with all your practices and stuff-"
"Yes!" Michael blurts, "Shut up yes yes yes." He pulls his foot back in and dives across the center console to hug Ryan around the neck, "Are you for real?!"
Ryan actually flushes red, "Yeah. . ."
Michael kisses him, and they don't talk for quite a few minutes. When he does pull back, he fixes Ryan with a serious look.
"But what about your dad?"
Ryan nods slowly, "Yeah, I have to handle that."