Ficlet: Dutch (Lochte/Grevers)
:: Ryan Lochte/Matt Grevers, US Swimming, pg13 (unbeta'ed)
(Because I mostly had it written and after watching the meet in early Decemeber, I'm kinda in love with Matt Grevers...)
12.16.08 "Dutch"
Matt might have been a little young.
He might have been one of the new guys on the Olympic team, into the fold.
And, okay. He might have a little bit of that midwestern naivety. A little.
Still.
It would have taken a whole lot more than all of that for Matt not to know exactly what trouble looked like: it stood about six-four when it wasn't slouching, had curly hair, and blue eyes that sort of disappeared when it smiled.
"This is not a good idea," he hissed. The neatly clipped hedge in front of them was digging into his left shoulder, but if he straightened up at all his head was going to be sticking out.
Ryan shook his head. "Dude, this is such a good idea." He pushed a cool egg into Matt's hand and grinned.
Through shrubbery, Matt could see the vague outline of the frat house. Brick. It was probably hard to get egg out of brick. Shit. "Ry. It's pretty close to Christmas. The holiday season."
And for a blessed moment, Ryan actually stopped smiling. He looked a little thoughtful, bit his lip. Matt breathed out and started to put the egg back in the carton between them when Ryan said, "So do you think we should, like, throw cookies?"
"What?"
Ryan shrugged. "Christmas cookies, or something. Although I think that's really a waste of baked goods."
It was all Matt could do to just look at Ryan and not laugh. Or cry-crying was an option, right? He didn't believe that anyone would have thought him less of a man for it. "Probably a waste of cookies," he agreed slowly.
"Then since we'd rather eat the cookies and throw the eggs-" Ryan popped up from where they were crouched behind the prickly hedge (was it Holly? because Matt was pretty sure that red Holly berry stains on his warm-ups would be evidence enough to condemn when they got arrested) and launched the egg in his hand.
Matt unfolded enough to watch it go. A perfectly great arch, nice speed, good form. Wouldn't even strain Ryan's shoulder enough to mess up his swims tomorrow, despite the distance that little egg had to cover. Little egg. Big, huge amazing splat.
He winced.
The grin that covered Ryan's face was like... It was like a fourteen year old who'd just discovered his dad's Playboys. What the hell. His nose crinkled up and his cheeks crinkled up and he was smiling with his whole body. Oh god, they were gonna get in so much trouble.
Ryan launched another egg. Splat. Upper window, direct hit. If it wasn't going to get them thrown in jail, Matt would have congratulated him on the awesome aim. Done this before, Ryan? What, you have? I never would have guessed it-
"Dude."
Matt looked up, blinking. "Huh?"
Ryan waggled his hands at the building. "Come on!" He grabbed another egg, actually wound up, and launched it. Wow, front door.
"Nice hit." Matt bit his tongue immediately and banged his forehead against his knees until fingers wrapped around his arm and pulled him up to his feet.
"Thanks," Ryan said, patting Matt's chest. "Your turn."
Matt looked at the egg in his hand. It looked so small, and so innocent. It would probably rain soon, wouldn't it? He glanced at Ryan, who-not shockingly-was smiling and stepping from foot to foot. Matt swallowed a laugh thinking about his mom's dog who pranced around just like that when he got excited. Of course that was right before he peed on the floor. "Okay. Right, okay."
He hefted the egg and took a breath. Hey, at least it was bound to be warm in hell, right? And he'd have good company.
Splat. Right across the Greek letters over the door. Adrenaline spiked through his veins and Matt laughed out loud, covering his mouth with a hand to keep the sound quiet-even though Ryan was whooping and already arming him again.
It took ten eggs-that was six for Ryan and four for Matt-before the first of the frat boys stepped out the front door. After that it only took one more to stir up the entire beehive.
"Run." Ryan grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the bushes as Matt stood transfixed, watching the guys pour down the steps in various stages of dress. He might have been imagining that each looked a little more pissed than the last... but he didn't think so. And he didn't need to be told twice. He ran.
And he should have felt bad, but as the adrenaline pounded through him Matt was laughing. He sure as hell still ran for his life, however, a step off Ryan's ass, but shit, he thought that they'd make it. And the looks on those guys faces!
He could hear Ryan laughing, too.
The wind stung as they pelted across campus, more than cold enough, and Matt was glad that he didn't have his flipflops on. Ryan zigzagged around buildings like he was drunk before finally sliding around the back end of a wall that shouldered them up between brick and a heating duct. Ryan hit it with a belch of metal and then Matt ran into him; both of them out of breath and still laughing.
Ryan punched him and put a finger to grinning but suddenly silent lips, shhh-but Matt couldn't stop. He tried to bite his lip and just laughed around it. It was nerves as much as anything else; give him a block and yards against the best athletes in the world, but frat boys? Deep down he was just the dork who got picked on for reading on the bus. And if he wasn't swimming he was playing World of Warcraft-not exactly cool points there.
He should just blow them all down with a magic spell, damage 210.
Matt burst into a fresh round of laughter with the thought and Ryan punched him again and there was the growing rush of footsteps on concrete nearby, but he just couldn't stop. Matt guessed that he'd still be laughing when they got the snot kicked out of them, too.
Warm hands grabbed either side of his face and suddenly there was a hot mouth pressed against his, lips chapped and awkwardly forceful.
Matt stopped laughing. Stopped breathing, too. Beat that for silence.
Ryan kissed him with a slow pull and fade, hands bringing Matt's head far enough down to manage it, as the group of frat boys ran right past the small niche in the building's side with a mutinous sort of rolling thunder.
It was pretty quiet after they were gone. Ryan's mouth broke far enough away to pull some air, but not far enough away to be considered an autonomous person. "Next time I throw you to the dogs," he murmured, the words a ghost of pressure against Matt's mouth.
"Next time," Matt agreed absently, breathless and shocked and amazed. Ryan's hands were still on his face and blue eyes were still very close. Matt's heart was smacking against his ribs hard enough that each beat echoed as a throb through his body. He felt a little lightheaded and a lot stupid and somehow his hands had ended up on Ryan's hips and after a moment of thought Matt realized that his thumbs were circling skin just above low-slung pants.
He stopped them from moving and cleared his throat. "So this next time..."
Ryan's hands dropped and he broke into a grin that terrified Matt even as it turned him on-which shouldn't have even been possible. "Next time we'll get the Epslon house, cause they're like, the football players."
Which was not exactly what Matt had been wondering, but Ryan rolled onto the balls of his feet and pushed his mouth back against Matt's and if that was how it was going to be, then the Epslons house was going down.
(Because I mostly had it written and after watching the meet in early Decemeber, I'm kinda in love with Matt Grevers...)
12.16.08 "Dutch"
Matt might have been a little young.
He might have been one of the new guys on the Olympic team, into the fold.
And, okay. He might have a little bit of that midwestern naivety. A little.
Still.
It would have taken a whole lot more than all of that for Matt not to know exactly what trouble looked like: it stood about six-four when it wasn't slouching, had curly hair, and blue eyes that sort of disappeared when it smiled.
"This is not a good idea," he hissed. The neatly clipped hedge in front of them was digging into his left shoulder, but if he straightened up at all his head was going to be sticking out.
Ryan shook his head. "Dude, this is such a good idea." He pushed a cool egg into Matt's hand and grinned.
Through shrubbery, Matt could see the vague outline of the frat house. Brick. It was probably hard to get egg out of brick. Shit. "Ry. It's pretty close to Christmas. The holiday season."
And for a blessed moment, Ryan actually stopped smiling. He looked a little thoughtful, bit his lip. Matt breathed out and started to put the egg back in the carton between them when Ryan said, "So do you think we should, like, throw cookies?"
"What?"
Ryan shrugged. "Christmas cookies, or something. Although I think that's really a waste of baked goods."
It was all Matt could do to just look at Ryan and not laugh. Or cry-crying was an option, right? He didn't believe that anyone would have thought him less of a man for it. "Probably a waste of cookies," he agreed slowly.
"Then since we'd rather eat the cookies and throw the eggs-" Ryan popped up from where they were crouched behind the prickly hedge (was it Holly? because Matt was pretty sure that red Holly berry stains on his warm-ups would be evidence enough to condemn when they got arrested) and launched the egg in his hand.
Matt unfolded enough to watch it go. A perfectly great arch, nice speed, good form. Wouldn't even strain Ryan's shoulder enough to mess up his swims tomorrow, despite the distance that little egg had to cover. Little egg. Big, huge amazing splat.
He winced.
The grin that covered Ryan's face was like... It was like a fourteen year old who'd just discovered his dad's Playboys. What the hell. His nose crinkled up and his cheeks crinkled up and he was smiling with his whole body. Oh god, they were gonna get in so much trouble.
Ryan launched another egg. Splat. Upper window, direct hit. If it wasn't going to get them thrown in jail, Matt would have congratulated him on the awesome aim. Done this before, Ryan? What, you have? I never would have guessed it-
"Dude."
Matt looked up, blinking. "Huh?"
Ryan waggled his hands at the building. "Come on!" He grabbed another egg, actually wound up, and launched it. Wow, front door.
"Nice hit." Matt bit his tongue immediately and banged his forehead against his knees until fingers wrapped around his arm and pulled him up to his feet.
"Thanks," Ryan said, patting Matt's chest. "Your turn."
Matt looked at the egg in his hand. It looked so small, and so innocent. It would probably rain soon, wouldn't it? He glanced at Ryan, who-not shockingly-was smiling and stepping from foot to foot. Matt swallowed a laugh thinking about his mom's dog who pranced around just like that when he got excited. Of course that was right before he peed on the floor. "Okay. Right, okay."
He hefted the egg and took a breath. Hey, at least it was bound to be warm in hell, right? And he'd have good company.
Splat. Right across the Greek letters over the door. Adrenaline spiked through his veins and Matt laughed out loud, covering his mouth with a hand to keep the sound quiet-even though Ryan was whooping and already arming him again.
It took ten eggs-that was six for Ryan and four for Matt-before the first of the frat boys stepped out the front door. After that it only took one more to stir up the entire beehive.
"Run." Ryan grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the bushes as Matt stood transfixed, watching the guys pour down the steps in various stages of dress. He might have been imagining that each looked a little more pissed than the last... but he didn't think so. And he didn't need to be told twice. He ran.
And he should have felt bad, but as the adrenaline pounded through him Matt was laughing. He sure as hell still ran for his life, however, a step off Ryan's ass, but shit, he thought that they'd make it. And the looks on those guys faces!
He could hear Ryan laughing, too.
The wind stung as they pelted across campus, more than cold enough, and Matt was glad that he didn't have his flipflops on. Ryan zigzagged around buildings like he was drunk before finally sliding around the back end of a wall that shouldered them up between brick and a heating duct. Ryan hit it with a belch of metal and then Matt ran into him; both of them out of breath and still laughing.
Ryan punched him and put a finger to grinning but suddenly silent lips, shhh-but Matt couldn't stop. He tried to bite his lip and just laughed around it. It was nerves as much as anything else; give him a block and yards against the best athletes in the world, but frat boys? Deep down he was just the dork who got picked on for reading on the bus. And if he wasn't swimming he was playing World of Warcraft-not exactly cool points there.
He should just blow them all down with a magic spell, damage 210.
Matt burst into a fresh round of laughter with the thought and Ryan punched him again and there was the growing rush of footsteps on concrete nearby, but he just couldn't stop. Matt guessed that he'd still be laughing when they got the snot kicked out of them, too.
Warm hands grabbed either side of his face and suddenly there was a hot mouth pressed against his, lips chapped and awkwardly forceful.
Matt stopped laughing. Stopped breathing, too. Beat that for silence.
Ryan kissed him with a slow pull and fade, hands bringing Matt's head far enough down to manage it, as the group of frat boys ran right past the small niche in the building's side with a mutinous sort of rolling thunder.
It was pretty quiet after they were gone. Ryan's mouth broke far enough away to pull some air, but not far enough away to be considered an autonomous person. "Next time I throw you to the dogs," he murmured, the words a ghost of pressure against Matt's mouth.
"Next time," Matt agreed absently, breathless and shocked and amazed. Ryan's hands were still on his face and blue eyes were still very close. Matt's heart was smacking against his ribs hard enough that each beat echoed as a throb through his body. He felt a little lightheaded and a lot stupid and somehow his hands had ended up on Ryan's hips and after a moment of thought Matt realized that his thumbs were circling skin just above low-slung pants.
He stopped them from moving and cleared his throat. "So this next time..."
Ryan's hands dropped and he broke into a grin that terrified Matt even as it turned him on-which shouldn't have even been possible. "Next time we'll get the Epslon house, cause they're like, the football players."
Which was not exactly what Matt had been wondering, but Ryan rolled onto the balls of his feet and pushed his mouth back against Matt's and if that was how it was going to be, then the Epslons house was going down.