: SUNSHINE STATE : Swim Slash : Phelps/Lochte
Sunshine State.
:: Phelps/Lochte, Swim Slash, R.
03.29.09 ::The Sunshine State
It was quiet, and calm.
In Florida that didn’t last long. The sound of the patio slider smacking open broke the silence that Michael had been laying in.
Ryan broke the calm.
“Hey.” He jabbed his toes into Michael’s side.
“Hmm?”
“If I wanted to pee on you, would you let me?”
Maybe it was a sign of something that the question didn’t even faze Michael; he just shook his head without even opening his eyes. Maybe he was too used to Ryan. Maybe he had insanity in his family. Maybe the sun was just too heavy to want to make a big deal of it.
“Is that a no?”
“Really big no. Why would you want to pee on me?” Michael murmured, reaching down to scratch his hip. Fingers followed after his own, brushing cool lines against his hot skin. Michael inhaled.
“I saw it on the Discovery channel. Animals do it to mark what’s theirs.”
“Well it’s good that I said no, since I’m not your property.” Michael laced his arms back under his head and stretched a little on the sun-warm stones around Ryan’s pool. He’d been napping. Sort of. Heat-dazed.
When Ryan spoke it was easy to hear the grin shaping his words. “You are totally like a blender to me.”
“Asshole.”
“I’ll call you like, Black and Decker.” A finger tapped the jut of Michael’s hip, right against the bone, and Michael moved just enough to swat it away. “Let’s have sex,” Ryan said.
Michael finally opened his eyes, using one hand to shade them from the Florida sun. He didn’t understand how a thousand miles, Baltimore to Florida, made the difference between normal sun and ultra-violet death. It had to be most of the reason why Ryan was the way he was; he spent way too much time outside in this sun.
Ryan was sitting next to him, legs bent at the knee and arms wrapped around them and Michael could almost see the way he soaked in the thick, heavy rays. It hit his skin and just sank.
“So wait,” Michael said, wetting dry lips. “I think you just asked to pee on me, told me I was worth as much as a battery-powered appliance, and then suggested sex. Which part of all of that sounded like a good idea?”
Ryan grinned at him, not even squinting in the flood of sunlight. “The last part.”
“I think you have brain damage.” There was no other way to account for it, except the few times Ryan had fallen on his head. “It’s the sun, or the humidity here. Swamp brain, I think that’s… shit-“ Michael’s hips rose from stone and he sucked down his last words because Ryan’s fingers had pushed their way into the closest leg of his speedo. “No fair,” he breathed out.
“Totally fair,” Ryan said in a murmur. His hand rubbed against and around soft, sweat-sticky skin and Ryan gently squeezed Michael’s balls, a pressure that made Michael’s eyes roll back and close. “You can pretend it’s my birthday.”
“No,” Michael said, his fingers scraping against the rounded edges of stones as he tried to hold onto something. The thought was half-formed because Ryan had found his dick and was jacking him with slow, short strokes that took up most of his higher brain functions. It could have been Ryan’s birthday; Michael didn’t really care.
“It’s my un-birthday.”
Scratch that, he cared. His eyes opened. “I am not letting you pee on me,” Michael muttered, slapping a hand down on Ryan’s thigh and squeezing. His hips were moving against the time Ryan’s hand was making.
Ryan leaned over and blocked the sun, and for a moment Michael got a picture of vague features and blue eyes, the sun a loud halo around curls. Then the light was blinding him again and Michael covered his eyes as Ryan’s mouth found his neck, lips a soft pressure on his pulse. Michael swallowed down a moan.
“Yeah,” Ryan said, a vibration against skin. His hand was still moving and Michael’s legs fell apart. “Yeah, just like that.”
Then teeth and lips latched on and Ryan sucked hard. Michael jerked, reaching an arm up to smack Ryan in the side of the head. “Asshole, no hickeys!”
Ryan fell back with a laugh-taking his hand with him to rub his ear-as Michael pawed at his wet neck. “Aw, Black and Decker,” Ryan said, “don’t be like that. It was just a love-bite, you know, just a little sug-ah!”
When Michael shoved Ryan, he fell back ass over head into the pool mid-sentence with a gawping sound and a huge splash.
Sitting up, Michael rubbed at his erection through his suit and waited for Ryan to surface. Asshole. His other hand was still rubbing his neck and with his hands preoccupied there was no defense when Ryan broke surface, shook his head like a maniac dog, and shot a stream of water from his mouth. It hit Michael in the chest and dribbled down his stomach to soak into his waistband. Michael looked at the new puddle he was sitting in and then pointed at Ryan. “Oh, it’s on like Donkey-Kong. You’re going down.”
Ryan laughed and ducked as Michael went from a crouch to a jump in one stride. He’d just gotten dry but it hardly mattered now, besides. Sometimes Michael felt like he’d spent most of his life getting dry. He hit the water in a cannonball and then twisted, grabbing for Ryan’s shorts.
Under the water it was like slo-mo, the way the neon board shorts slid down Ryan’s thighs. Michael tugged them over feet as fingers dug into his hair and let them sink. He floated closer, bumping the warm sack of Ryan’s balls with his nose. They were hot in the cooler water. Michael sucked one in just past his lips, his tongue tasting chlorine along with soft skin as it made a swipe. Ryan’s fingers clenched at Michael’s short hair, his legs working an awkward frog paddle to keep himself afloat.
Without exerting himself, Michael could hold his breath for a long time and giving a blowie wasn't exactly the most intensive job in the world. He let Ryan's balls pop out of his mouth and wrapped fingers around Ryan's dick--it was floating to the right, half hard. Michael squeezed it, tugging his hand up until it met his mouth on the warm, smooth tip. He rubbed his lips against the head and Ryan's legs lost their rhythm for a moment, his body dipping in the water before picking it back up. Too easy.
There wasn't a lot of finesse; Michael pushed as much of Ryan's filling dick into his mouth as he could, blowing and sucking water as he licked and bobbed. Ryan's fingers tightened in his hair and after about thirty seconds he was loosing so much ground against keeping afloat that his chin was dipping beneath the surface. Finally his fingers just clamped down and yanked Michael up.
Michael broke the surface and hardly had a chance to breathe before Ryan’s grip shifted to his neck and yanked him in to crush their mouths together; wet, slick lips slipped and caught between teeth. The sunlight off the water was sharp and bright and flickered with waves made by Michael backing Ryan against the edge of the pool. It made him lightheaded.
Or it might have been the way Ryan was tangling his legs up around Michael’s hips, rocking his body up like his life depended on the friction between them.
With one hand making white knuckles around the pool’s lip and the other grabbing Ryan’s ass, Michael rocked back. His toes slid and then grabbed the curved bottom of the wall but they started to float up anyway. Ryan unwound one hand from Michael’s neck so that he could throw an elbow back on the patio and keep them steady. With the new leverage the way Ryan moved against him made Michael see double. His entire body felt like it was ready to come apart at the seams.
“You are going to drown us,” he panted into Ryan’s ear, wet curls sticking to his cheek. But his hips didn’t stop moving, matching the pace, sliding his dick along slick, smooth crevices.
Ryan tilted his head back with a breathless laugh. The way he moved, the tilt his hips needed with each up and back to rub himself against Michael’s stomach, drove Michael insane. He let go of Ryan’s ass to grab the pool and used his arms to drive them together with the most friction the water would allow. Ryan was moaning, deep in the back of his throat, the sound in Michael’s ear. When he came Ryan’s whole body tightened up and then threatened to shake apart.
Michael dropped his arm around Ryan’s waist to keep him close and only needed a few more sharp, frantic rubs to bring himself off, smothering open-mouthed sounds against a wet shoulder.
Ryan breathed out and sagged backward, supporting himself by his elbows on the stone patio. “Happy birthday to me.” His smile was sloppy and content and the sun caught the water spread across his tanned chest. Michael snorted and leaned in to suck some of the drops away. “You know,” Ryan said, raising a hand to trace a thumb over the rim of Michael’s right ear, “with as much as I pee in this pool, it’s kinda like I really am peeing on you right now.”
Michael lifted his head and teethed water off of his lips. “Man. That is not right. You know that, don’t you?”
“You just jizzed in here!” Ryan protested, his legs slipping down from Michael’s hips. The cool water rushed to fill the skin they’d kept warm.
“And you want to pee on me,” Michael muttered, leaning in and biting Ryan’s lower lips, digging his fingers into his hips as Ryan tried to bite him back.
A clearing of a throat turned both of their heads toward the porch, and Kyle was standing in the kitchen slider door. He held up a piece of paper with a bold 10 against the screen. Lifting a beer to his lips he dropped the score and walked away.
Michael splashed Ryan before untangling them and hoisting himself out of the pool. “I did not know he was home.” He snapped his briefs back up over himself and rubbed at his stomach.
Ryan turned over so that he was leaning against the side of the pool and drew a star with water on stone before squinting up at Michael. “Dude. What did you think? I don’t watch the Discovery Channel.”
:: Phelps/Lochte, Swim Slash, R.
03.29.09 ::The Sunshine State
It was quiet, and calm.
In Florida that didn’t last long. The sound of the patio slider smacking open broke the silence that Michael had been laying in.
Ryan broke the calm.
“Hey.” He jabbed his toes into Michael’s side.
“Hmm?”
“If I wanted to pee on you, would you let me?”
Maybe it was a sign of something that the question didn’t even faze Michael; he just shook his head without even opening his eyes. Maybe he was too used to Ryan. Maybe he had insanity in his family. Maybe the sun was just too heavy to want to make a big deal of it.
“Is that a no?”
“Really big no. Why would you want to pee on me?” Michael murmured, reaching down to scratch his hip. Fingers followed after his own, brushing cool lines against his hot skin. Michael inhaled.
“I saw it on the Discovery channel. Animals do it to mark what’s theirs.”
“Well it’s good that I said no, since I’m not your property.” Michael laced his arms back under his head and stretched a little on the sun-warm stones around Ryan’s pool. He’d been napping. Sort of. Heat-dazed.
When Ryan spoke it was easy to hear the grin shaping his words. “You are totally like a blender to me.”
“Asshole.”
“I’ll call you like, Black and Decker.” A finger tapped the jut of Michael’s hip, right against the bone, and Michael moved just enough to swat it away. “Let’s have sex,” Ryan said.
Michael finally opened his eyes, using one hand to shade them from the Florida sun. He didn’t understand how a thousand miles, Baltimore to Florida, made the difference between normal sun and ultra-violet death. It had to be most of the reason why Ryan was the way he was; he spent way too much time outside in this sun.
Ryan was sitting next to him, legs bent at the knee and arms wrapped around them and Michael could almost see the way he soaked in the thick, heavy rays. It hit his skin and just sank.
“So wait,” Michael said, wetting dry lips. “I think you just asked to pee on me, told me I was worth as much as a battery-powered appliance, and then suggested sex. Which part of all of that sounded like a good idea?”
Ryan grinned at him, not even squinting in the flood of sunlight. “The last part.”
“I think you have brain damage.” There was no other way to account for it, except the few times Ryan had fallen on his head. “It’s the sun, or the humidity here. Swamp brain, I think that’s… shit-“ Michael’s hips rose from stone and he sucked down his last words because Ryan’s fingers had pushed their way into the closest leg of his speedo. “No fair,” he breathed out.
“Totally fair,” Ryan said in a murmur. His hand rubbed against and around soft, sweat-sticky skin and Ryan gently squeezed Michael’s balls, a pressure that made Michael’s eyes roll back and close. “You can pretend it’s my birthday.”
“No,” Michael said, his fingers scraping against the rounded edges of stones as he tried to hold onto something. The thought was half-formed because Ryan had found his dick and was jacking him with slow, short strokes that took up most of his higher brain functions. It could have been Ryan’s birthday; Michael didn’t really care.
“It’s my un-birthday.”
Scratch that, he cared. His eyes opened. “I am not letting you pee on me,” Michael muttered, slapping a hand down on Ryan’s thigh and squeezing. His hips were moving against the time Ryan’s hand was making.
Ryan leaned over and blocked the sun, and for a moment Michael got a picture of vague features and blue eyes, the sun a loud halo around curls. Then the light was blinding him again and Michael covered his eyes as Ryan’s mouth found his neck, lips a soft pressure on his pulse. Michael swallowed down a moan.
“Yeah,” Ryan said, a vibration against skin. His hand was still moving and Michael’s legs fell apart. “Yeah, just like that.”
Then teeth and lips latched on and Ryan sucked hard. Michael jerked, reaching an arm up to smack Ryan in the side of the head. “Asshole, no hickeys!”
Ryan fell back with a laugh-taking his hand with him to rub his ear-as Michael pawed at his wet neck. “Aw, Black and Decker,” Ryan said, “don’t be like that. It was just a love-bite, you know, just a little sug-ah!”
When Michael shoved Ryan, he fell back ass over head into the pool mid-sentence with a gawping sound and a huge splash.
Sitting up, Michael rubbed at his erection through his suit and waited for Ryan to surface. Asshole. His other hand was still rubbing his neck and with his hands preoccupied there was no defense when Ryan broke surface, shook his head like a maniac dog, and shot a stream of water from his mouth. It hit Michael in the chest and dribbled down his stomach to soak into his waistband. Michael looked at the new puddle he was sitting in and then pointed at Ryan. “Oh, it’s on like Donkey-Kong. You’re going down.”
Ryan laughed and ducked as Michael went from a crouch to a jump in one stride. He’d just gotten dry but it hardly mattered now, besides. Sometimes Michael felt like he’d spent most of his life getting dry. He hit the water in a cannonball and then twisted, grabbing for Ryan’s shorts.
Under the water it was like slo-mo, the way the neon board shorts slid down Ryan’s thighs. Michael tugged them over feet as fingers dug into his hair and let them sink. He floated closer, bumping the warm sack of Ryan’s balls with his nose. They were hot in the cooler water. Michael sucked one in just past his lips, his tongue tasting chlorine along with soft skin as it made a swipe. Ryan’s fingers clenched at Michael’s short hair, his legs working an awkward frog paddle to keep himself afloat.
Without exerting himself, Michael could hold his breath for a long time and giving a blowie wasn't exactly the most intensive job in the world. He let Ryan's balls pop out of his mouth and wrapped fingers around Ryan's dick--it was floating to the right, half hard. Michael squeezed it, tugging his hand up until it met his mouth on the warm, smooth tip. He rubbed his lips against the head and Ryan's legs lost their rhythm for a moment, his body dipping in the water before picking it back up. Too easy.
There wasn't a lot of finesse; Michael pushed as much of Ryan's filling dick into his mouth as he could, blowing and sucking water as he licked and bobbed. Ryan's fingers tightened in his hair and after about thirty seconds he was loosing so much ground against keeping afloat that his chin was dipping beneath the surface. Finally his fingers just clamped down and yanked Michael up.
Michael broke the surface and hardly had a chance to breathe before Ryan’s grip shifted to his neck and yanked him in to crush their mouths together; wet, slick lips slipped and caught between teeth. The sunlight off the water was sharp and bright and flickered with waves made by Michael backing Ryan against the edge of the pool. It made him lightheaded.
Or it might have been the way Ryan was tangling his legs up around Michael’s hips, rocking his body up like his life depended on the friction between them.
With one hand making white knuckles around the pool’s lip and the other grabbing Ryan’s ass, Michael rocked back. His toes slid and then grabbed the curved bottom of the wall but they started to float up anyway. Ryan unwound one hand from Michael’s neck so that he could throw an elbow back on the patio and keep them steady. With the new leverage the way Ryan moved against him made Michael see double. His entire body felt like it was ready to come apart at the seams.
“You are going to drown us,” he panted into Ryan’s ear, wet curls sticking to his cheek. But his hips didn’t stop moving, matching the pace, sliding his dick along slick, smooth crevices.
Ryan tilted his head back with a breathless laugh. The way he moved, the tilt his hips needed with each up and back to rub himself against Michael’s stomach, drove Michael insane. He let go of Ryan’s ass to grab the pool and used his arms to drive them together with the most friction the water would allow. Ryan was moaning, deep in the back of his throat, the sound in Michael’s ear. When he came Ryan’s whole body tightened up and then threatened to shake apart.
Michael dropped his arm around Ryan’s waist to keep him close and only needed a few more sharp, frantic rubs to bring himself off, smothering open-mouthed sounds against a wet shoulder.
Ryan breathed out and sagged backward, supporting himself by his elbows on the stone patio. “Happy birthday to me.” His smile was sloppy and content and the sun caught the water spread across his tanned chest. Michael snorted and leaned in to suck some of the drops away. “You know,” Ryan said, raising a hand to trace a thumb over the rim of Michael’s right ear, “with as much as I pee in this pool, it’s kinda like I really am peeing on you right now.”
Michael lifted his head and teethed water off of his lips. “Man. That is not right. You know that, don’t you?”
“You just jizzed in here!” Ryan protested, his legs slipping down from Michael’s hips. The cool water rushed to fill the skin they’d kept warm.
“And you want to pee on me,” Michael muttered, leaning in and biting Ryan’s lower lips, digging his fingers into his hips as Ryan tried to bite him back.
A clearing of a throat turned both of their heads toward the porch, and Kyle was standing in the kitchen slider door. He held up a piece of paper with a bold 10 against the screen. Lifting a beer to his lips he dropped the score and walked away.
Michael splashed Ryan before untangling them and hoisting himself out of the pool. “I did not know he was home.” He snapped his briefs back up over himself and rubbed at his stomach.
Ryan turned over so that he was leaning against the side of the pool and drew a star with water on stone before squinting up at Michael. “Dude. What did you think? I don’t watch the Discovery Channel.”