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English
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Part 6 of Phlochte Drabble Series
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Published:
2012-07-25
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1,249
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1/1
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Phlochte Drabbles 64-75

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64. Shout/65. Look (double-drabble) (continues from Dabbles 62-63 at the insistence of LJ’s thisiswhoiamnow)
As soon as the words “Ryan” and “Boyfriend” had come out of your mouth in the same sentence you knew you were in for it. They’d yanked you off that stage so fast, you were surprised there weren’t cartoon sound-effects involved. Peter is pissed and there is yelling happening. Erika’s pissed too, but she seems to be focusing it on Ryan, with glares and smacks to the back of his head.

Bob and Gregg, just shake their heads, and rub their eyes, like they have no idea what to do with you. How do you predict how something like outing yourself, or being outed, to the whole world can affect the last few swims of a major competition? Or in your case, your last competition. You look past all of them, their opinions definitely matter, but it’s Ryan you’re worried about.

He’s sitting across from you in the commandeered room, leaning back on the couch, arms folded over his chest, as he listens to Erika rant quietly at him about sponsors, and “keeping very important shit from me, Ryan!” He looks up though, and his eyes meet yours and the smile on his face lights up the whole damn room.

 

66. Packing
“Move.”

Michael poked Ryan in the hip. Ryan rolled over, but remained stretched out across Michael’s bed. Mike flopped his suitcase into the newly vacant spot.

“We fly to London tomorrow,” Ryan stated. Mike laughed.

“Why do you think I’m trying to pack?” he asked. Ryan rolled back over, landing with his head in the middle of the open suit case. Michael ignored this, dropping a load of t-shirts on Ryan’s face. Ryan pushed them off and gave Michael a slow languid smile.

“Come on, Mikey…” he whispered.

The suitcase hit the floor and Michael pressed Ryan into the mattress.

 

67. Wake/68. Red (double-drabble)
Michael rests after practice, submerged up to his chest, and leaning back over the concrete lip to soak up as much sun as possible before they leave for London. He kicks his feet gently to stay afloat, and just rests there. He can hear Coach Troy at the far side of the pool drilling the Gators, and he sighs at the familiarity of it all. If it were hotter he could imagine he was back home in Meadowbrook, lazing between kick-sets. There’s a loud splash to his right and he watches Ryan dolphin kick up the lane he’s commandeered. He’s poetry in motion and Michael smiles as he watches him get quickly closer. Ryan flies past, his hand brushing purposefully across Michael’s abs as he goes. The wake caused by his passing laps water up over Michael’s shoulders. It feels like a full body caress and it leaves Michael hard and wanting, flushing red in sudden arousal.

Ryan dolphin kicks the entire 50m, comes up gasping for air at the far end. He turns, pulling his goggles up onto his forehead as he grins at Michael.

“Hey Mike! You might want to go inside, you’re looking a little red there!”

 

69. Lime/70. Mine (double-drabble)
Michael tried not to let it piss him off. It was just Ryan being Ryan. Friendly, flirty, too-hot-to-be-real Ryan. The first body shot is done by a fan, some gymnast from the UK team. She looks barely legal, but she’s in the pub, so Mike assumes she is. She convinces Ryan to strip his shirt off, lay down on the bar. After that it was a free-for-all with girl after girl taking their turn. A lick of salt off his neck, tongues slurping up drips of tequila off his abs, and then biting into a lime, held in place by Ryan’s teeth.

Michael watches silently from the corner by the pool table. The longer it goes on the more jealous he gets. When the bodies part and he sees Ryan lying there, hard in his jeans, face and chest flushed with laughter and arousal. He has enough. He knows it’ll make people talk but he storms out of the bar and back to the dorm. Ryan, predictably arrives a few minutes behind him.

Michael has him shirtless and on the bed in seconds, his own tongue chasing down traces of salt and alcohol before claiming his lime flavored lips.

“Mine.”

 

71. Mouth (inspired by this GIF http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m7ldj8XTwv1qdbpbyo1_500.gif )
He watches Ryan throughout the press conference. Watches Ryan purse his lips, lick them, suck them so hard his cheeks hollow, and when he opens his mouth to talk, his lips are left wet and red. Ryan glances over, sees Michael standing there, in the back of the room and off to the right. He grins, that naughty teasing grin that he knows drives Michael crazy.

He raises both eyebrows in response but Ryan’s smile just spreads wider, before he turns back to the task at hand and starts answering the last question. Michael will get him back. Just wait.

 

72. God/73. Man (double-drabble)
You see, Ryan has an edge when competing against Michael. Something no one else has in their favor. The problem for everyone else is that they have too much respect for Michael. (And he doesn’t mean that in a bad way.) It’s just to everyone else Michael is this untouchable, unbeatable icon in the swimming world. The greatest swimmer, greatest Olympian, of all time. They believe he can’t be beat, no matter how hard they try, so they’re defeated before the start. It’s a mental thing. It’s psychological.

Ryan knows better. He’s seen Michael at his very best, and his absolute worst. He’s seen him at his most God-like: in Beijing when he was damn near perfect in every single race. And he’s seen him at his most human. His most vulnerable. He’s helped him to bed when he’s so drunk he can’t walk straight. He’s watched him recover from injury, from bad press, through shit with his Dad. But through good stuff too. Becoming an Uncle for the first time. Bringing home Herman.

So he knows Michael’s touchable, because he’s touched him, every inch. He’s felt his heartbeat, the rush of blood when he comes.

So Ryan can win.

 

74. Translator
Sometimes Ryan needs a translator. A go between to explain exactly what he means. His brain is such a laid-back but uniquely creative place that sometimes what he says comes out as a drawling turn of phrase that makes perfect sense to him, but not to anyone else. There were a few exceptions. Kyle, Ryan’s best friend since they were kids was fluent in Ryan-ese. So was Devon, but they had the same DNA so that made perfect sense.

But Michael, too. He’d never needed a Ryan-to-English dictionary. He’s always just known what Ryan meant. He makes sense to Mike.

 

75. Species
Ryan would never say this to him, because for being such a badass Mike can be kind of insecure about this shit, but Michael’s kind of funny looking. Not like in a bad way. His proportions are just like crazy screwed up. He doesn’t look fully human, when you watch him in the water, it’s like seeing a real live merman flying down the length of the pool. It’s kinda freaky.

But out of the water Michael is just a guy, and that takes all the weirdness out of it. Besides, Ryan kind of gets off on his strange proportions.

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