Dive : prologue
Title: Dive : prologue
Pairing: MPhelps/RLochte;
Fandom: RPF
Rating: pg-13
Warnings: Real person fiction; Real person slash; Olympic glory that doesn't involve medals
Summary: Cityville High School, home of the Gators, is located in Cityville, Michigan and has an approximate student population of 1,543.
CHS is just like any other high school. The majority of the student population doesn't fit into a particular mold exactly, but are crammed into them anyway by their peers. Goths, druggies, jocks, emos, nerds, loners. A tower of groupings piled high, with a king sitting on top.
That king is Ryan Lochte.
Notes: This takes place in an AU where many of the athletes are enrolled in high school together.
For the purposes of this story, the ages and personalities of some people may have been altered or changed. Neither of these characteristics, or anything else in the story, is meant to be taken literally. The story is a work of fiction and no profit is being made from it.
This story involves real people reduced to the age of minors and arranged in fictionalized situations. The character's behaviors are not meant to reflect on the real individuals in any way, shape, or form.
If you need more clarification, see the community disclaimer in the profile.
The school is exactly how Michael remembers it from the year before: huge, with a rolling lawn in front and a fountain surrounded by a swamp of kids that hate him.
Whitney parks and looks at herself in the rear view mirror, smoothing her eyeliner with one finger, "Get out."
Michael complies, grabbing his back pack from the backseat and slinging it over one shoulder, "Later."
"Whatever."
Thirteen steps. Thirteen steps from Whitney's senior parking spot to the lawn. Thirteen seconds of bliss and then he's in hell.
"Welcome back, gators! Student body president here, Caroline Burkle, hoping you had a fab summer!"
A group of girls near Michael burst out laughing, baring their teeth in an imitation of Caroline's tragic smile. Michael smirks and stops walking to listen.
"Tryouts for Drama Club are this afternoon in the auditorium at four. Don't be late! And this Frida-"
Caroline's voice over the intercom is drowned out by the pumping of a bass and the distinct sound of FloRida. Michael's head turns with about sixty others, just in time to see a black Escalade park in a senior spot.
The passenger door opens first and Cullen Jones hops out, opening the backseat door on his way past it so that Kyle Deery can get out. The music is twenty times louder with the doors open. Several eyes watch Kyle and Cullen walk across the grass, but Michael waits.
The car cuts off and a second later, the driver side door opens and Ryan Steven Lochte steps out.
Michael's chest constricts.
Ryan tosses his head, curly hair bouncing out of his eyes and scratches his chest through the thin cotton of his t shirt. Michael can practically hear the school's female population melting, and he tries not to let it show that he's sort of melting with them. When Ryan's smile flashes on to his face for a group of skanky girls, Michael turns away and keeps walking.
He's barely even made it to his new locker before she starts following him.
"Michael, honey, here's your schedule."
He grits his teeth.
"I got you a locker near my office, just in case."
"Mom, I don't want a locker near your office." He snatches his schedule from her hands, "You don't make Whitney have a locker near you."
"Michael-"
A group of students glide past and laugh. Michael flushes.
"Are they making fun of you again this year? Already?"
"No. But if I have my locker two feet from your office, they will."
Debbie Phelps sighs, fighting off her principal voice and replacing it with her mom voice, "Okay, I'll straighten it out." She reaches out a hand to ruffle his hair, but Michael moves away.
"I need to find my first class."
And then he's just another backpack.
- - -
He's got A Period Spanish. Michael thinks it's some world record that he's been at school again less than an hour and he already wants to kill himself. He sits down in the third desk; not the first (too nerdy) and not the fourth (too far back from him to ever manage to concentrate). He figures it can't get any worse than Spanish in the morning.
It gets worse.
"Oh my god, dude, shut up! No way she said that."
Ryan Lochte and his friends come in like a wave, filling everyone in the room a feeling of awe and purpose.
Cullen Jones shoves him in the shoulder, "She did. Swear."
Michael knows he's staring, and usually he can stop himself from doing that, but not today. Not when Ryan is so glowy, like he soaked up all the summer sun an hour before school. Not when he's flashing his teeth in a perfect smile and sitting down in the fourth desk of the aisle to Michael's left.
"She didn't. You're full of it."
Kyle catches Michael staring and slaps the back of his head as he walks by, taking the seat behind Ryan, "What're you looking at, Dumbo?"
Dumbo. It's unoriginal, but it still stings. Michael wishes he could tape his ears down without anyone noticing, or just get them surgically removed.
And then Ryan's head is turning and those blue eyes are zeroed in on Michael's face, "What do you want?"
"N-nothing," Michael can never decide which is worse, the ears or what he pretty much thinks of as his speech impediment, AKA, anything having to do with Ryan, "Just... spacing out."
Cullen snorts and Michael looks hard in the opposite direction. But turning his face away can't stop them from seeing his ears flush red with embarrassment.
School sucks.
- - -
Michael figured out he was gay pretty early, because it really doesn't take that many crushes to figure something like that out. But Ryan Lochte isn't just a crush, Michael is like, in love with him. Ryan is popular and charismatic and clever and funny and very, very attractive.
Michael has liked him since fifth grade and things don't seem to be changing all that soon.
- - -
Somehow, Debbie Phelps has managed to hook her son up with a locker in the senior section of the second floor, a coveted spot with few other juniors.
Well, ten to be more exact.
At CHS, the cheerleaders and the award-winning swim team are pretty much everything. Consisting of four seniors and ten juniors, they form an elite group of students that Michael could only dream of joining. His own sister is a senior cheerleader, but that doesn't stop him from getting his homework stolen every day. In fact, it probably just makes it worse.
Michael was resigned to his fate, resigned to a high school career full of sucker punches and nicknames and endless virginity in every way.
And then Erik Vendt fell down the stairwell and broke two bones in his leg in half, and the swim team went into cardiac arrest.
Pairing: MPhelps/RLochte;
Fandom: RPF
Rating: pg-13
Warnings: Real person fiction; Real person slash; Olympic glory that doesn't involve medals
Summary: Cityville High School, home of the Gators, is located in Cityville, Michigan and has an approximate student population of 1,543.
CHS is just like any other high school. The majority of the student population doesn't fit into a particular mold exactly, but are crammed into them anyway by their peers. Goths, druggies, jocks, emos, nerds, loners. A tower of groupings piled high, with a king sitting on top.
That king is Ryan Lochte.
Notes: This takes place in an AU where many of the athletes are enrolled in high school together.
For the purposes of this story, the ages and personalities of some people may have been altered or changed. Neither of these characteristics, or anything else in the story, is meant to be taken literally. The story is a work of fiction and no profit is being made from it.
This story involves real people reduced to the age of minors and arranged in fictionalized situations. The character's behaviors are not meant to reflect on the real individuals in any way, shape, or form.
If you need more clarification, see the community disclaimer in the profile.
The school is exactly how Michael remembers it from the year before: huge, with a rolling lawn in front and a fountain surrounded by a swamp of kids that hate him.
Whitney parks and looks at herself in the rear view mirror, smoothing her eyeliner with one finger, "Get out."
Michael complies, grabbing his back pack from the backseat and slinging it over one shoulder, "Later."
"Whatever."
Thirteen steps. Thirteen steps from Whitney's senior parking spot to the lawn. Thirteen seconds of bliss and then he's in hell.
"Welcome back, gators! Student body president here, Caroline Burkle, hoping you had a fab summer!"
A group of girls near Michael burst out laughing, baring their teeth in an imitation of Caroline's tragic smile. Michael smirks and stops walking to listen.
"Tryouts for Drama Club are this afternoon in the auditorium at four. Don't be late! And this Frida-"
Caroline's voice over the intercom is drowned out by the pumping of a bass and the distinct sound of FloRida. Michael's head turns with about sixty others, just in time to see a black Escalade park in a senior spot.
The passenger door opens first and Cullen Jones hops out, opening the backseat door on his way past it so that Kyle Deery can get out. The music is twenty times louder with the doors open. Several eyes watch Kyle and Cullen walk across the grass, but Michael waits.
The car cuts off and a second later, the driver side door opens and Ryan Steven Lochte steps out.
Michael's chest constricts.
Ryan tosses his head, curly hair bouncing out of his eyes and scratches his chest through the thin cotton of his t shirt. Michael can practically hear the school's female population melting, and he tries not to let it show that he's sort of melting with them. When Ryan's smile flashes on to his face for a group of skanky girls, Michael turns away and keeps walking.
He's barely even made it to his new locker before she starts following him.
"Michael, honey, here's your schedule."
He grits his teeth.
"I got you a locker near my office, just in case."
"Mom, I don't want a locker near your office." He snatches his schedule from her hands, "You don't make Whitney have a locker near you."
"Michael-"
A group of students glide past and laugh. Michael flushes.
"Are they making fun of you again this year? Already?"
"No. But if I have my locker two feet from your office, they will."
Debbie Phelps sighs, fighting off her principal voice and replacing it with her mom voice, "Okay, I'll straighten it out." She reaches out a hand to ruffle his hair, but Michael moves away.
"I need to find my first class."
And then he's just another backpack.
- - -
He's got A Period Spanish. Michael thinks it's some world record that he's been at school again less than an hour and he already wants to kill himself. He sits down in the third desk; not the first (too nerdy) and not the fourth (too far back from him to ever manage to concentrate). He figures it can't get any worse than Spanish in the morning.
It gets worse.
"Oh my god, dude, shut up! No way she said that."
Ryan Lochte and his friends come in like a wave, filling everyone in the room a feeling of awe and purpose.
Cullen Jones shoves him in the shoulder, "She did. Swear."
Michael knows he's staring, and usually he can stop himself from doing that, but not today. Not when Ryan is so glowy, like he soaked up all the summer sun an hour before school. Not when he's flashing his teeth in a perfect smile and sitting down in the fourth desk of the aisle to Michael's left.
"She didn't. You're full of it."
Kyle catches Michael staring and slaps the back of his head as he walks by, taking the seat behind Ryan, "What're you looking at, Dumbo?"
Dumbo. It's unoriginal, but it still stings. Michael wishes he could tape his ears down without anyone noticing, or just get them surgically removed.
And then Ryan's head is turning and those blue eyes are zeroed in on Michael's face, "What do you want?"
"N-nothing," Michael can never decide which is worse, the ears or what he pretty much thinks of as his speech impediment, AKA, anything having to do with Ryan, "Just... spacing out."
Cullen snorts and Michael looks hard in the opposite direction. But turning his face away can't stop them from seeing his ears flush red with embarrassment.
School sucks.
- - -
Michael figured out he was gay pretty early, because it really doesn't take that many crushes to figure something like that out. But Ryan Lochte isn't just a crush, Michael is like, in love with him. Ryan is popular and charismatic and clever and funny and very, very attractive.
Michael has liked him since fifth grade and things don't seem to be changing all that soon.
- - -
Somehow, Debbie Phelps has managed to hook her son up with a locker in the senior section of the second floor, a coveted spot with few other juniors.
Well, ten to be more exact.
At CHS, the cheerleaders and the award-winning swim team are pretty much everything. Consisting of four seniors and ten juniors, they form an elite group of students that Michael could only dream of joining. His own sister is a senior cheerleader, but that doesn't stop him from getting his homework stolen every day. In fact, it probably just makes it worse.
Michael was resigned to his fate, resigned to a high school career full of sucker punches and nicknames and endless virginity in every way.
And then Erik Vendt fell down the stairwell and broke two bones in his leg in half, and the swim team went into cardiac arrest.