Fic: Rush Night (Olympics -- Michael Phelps/Ryan Lochte) PG-13
Title: Rush Night (Part 2)
Author: kingzgurl
Verse: Bonds of Brotherhood (Fraternity AU)
Fandom: Olympics, Swimming and Gymnastics
Pairing: Michael Phelps/Ryan Lochte, Jonathan Horton/Chris Brooks
Word Count: 9,500
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Rush Night freshman year changed Michael Phelps’ life. It was a night he almost skipped out on.
Part One.
***
The swimmer was relieved when the Rush coordinator announced that the next stop would be the Kappa Gamma Nu house. Finally. He’d suffered two hours of boredom and humiliation already that evening - he needed something as familiar as other swimmers, even if he’d never met any of them.
“Ready?” Chris slapped him on the back as they stepped up onto the front patio. “Just don’t do anything stupid and I bet they’ll love your goofy dolphin self as much as we do.”
“You sound like my mom on the first day of school,” Michael laughed awkwardly, suddenly nervous about meeting his future teammates. Though his mom never mentioned his ‘goofy dolphin self’, the first day of school always meant she’d remind him that anyone worth being friends with wouldn’t make fun of his ears. It never made the first day any easier, and the mere thought of it caused him to fix the shaggy ends of his hair to cover the tops of his ears.
“Look at him go honey, he’s all grown up now,” Jon teased and grabbed Chris’ arm. “I’m so proud of our little Mikey!”
“Seriously? Shut up,” Michael felt as if he’d repeated that phrase a hundred times since Rush began. He really needed to find a new phrase so he wouldn’t sound like a teenage girl. Behind him he heard a snort of laughter from Peter, and there was clearly no hope to survive the night with his dignity intact.
He took two steps towards the door but it opened before anyone knocked, and the sight before him made him freeze in place and forget how to breathe. The most attractive man he had ever seen stood in the doorway, shirtless and in the smallest speedo known to mankind. Nothing was left to the imagination in a tiny bit of blue fabric with orange stars lining a rather significant bulge. Michael stared shamelessly as he looked him over, and the only comprehensible thought in his mind was if all the men on the team looked even half that good, he was in serious trouble.
“Jeah, motherfuckers! Get in here - welcome to the palace of King Reezy!” the swimmer spread his arms to welcome them in, and invited even more attention to his broad chest and toned abs.
Michael gazed upon the tanned Adonis before him and traced the firm planes of muscle to his memory. While a man in a speedo was a common sight in a swimmer’s life, there was something specifically about this one who captured Michael’s attention.
The crowd of guys on the patio moved forward into the house, which caused Michael to stumble as he had been rather distracted. He would have made quite the impression and fallen face-first in the entry way except that two pairs of hands grabbed him from behind to keep him upright at the last second.
“Shit, Mike,” Jon hissed. “You look like you just saw someone get hit by a bus.”
“I have to agree that’s one hot piece of dolphin ass, but you should probably close your mouth… this isn’t exactly the best place to get on your knees for a mouthful of cock.” Chris murmured low in his ear, and if Michael’s brain had functioned properly he would have realized the gymnast had to stand on his tiptoes to make him hear the comment. “Breathe and walk, dude. You’re blocking the door.”
Michael’s brain had gone more than a bit fuzzy with the first appearance of the older swimmer, but he somehow managed to shut his mouth and take the steps necessary to cross the threshold of the fraternity house.
The entryway of the house was tiled with terra cotta and open to both sides, while ahead of the group was a wide staircase to the upstairs. To the right was a living room with multiple couches and a large flat screen television, while to the left of the entry was a dining room. Michael reveled momentarily in the sheer size of the house before his attention was once again drawn to the nearly naked man who had retreated to the stairs so he could see everyone in the group.
“If you’re dumb and don’t know yet, we only take swimmers here at Kappa Gamma Nu. Anyone who isn’t a swimmer can kick it in the comfy room o’ couches until you move to the next house. Snacks are on the table, and the game is on - don’t make a mess.” The swimmer’s voice was deep and melodic, and his manner of speech was slow and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world and he couldn’t be bothered to rush through his introduction to the house. Michael suspected his was from the south, but any accent was faint and indistinct. He might also have been high, but Michael suspected it was more likely that he was just from the south.
“You’re on your own, Mikey,” Chris squeezes his shoulder. “We’re gonna catch that game… try not to make too much of a fool of yourself.”
“Uh huh,” Michael noticed most of the group headed towards the living room and the couches, which left Michael, Peter, and one other guy in the entryway. His mouth felt unnaturally dry, as if it was stuffed with cotton and he took a deep breath and willed himself not to say anything stupid.
“Phelps, Vanderkaay, and Berens with me,” Michael didn’t have enough time to register the fact that the attractive swimmer already knew who he was before he followed the older swimmer through the dining room and kitchen, then out into the backyard. His gaze had fallen to the perfect ass that paraded before him, so he didn’t pay much attention to the rooms they crossed through.
A minute later they emerged onto a large patio that was strewn with chairs and lounges, all covered with swimmers in various states of dress and undress where they were gathered around a pool.
“Welcome to da casa. These are the guys,” he waved his hand around, Michael assumed to gesture at the other swimmers, but it mostly looked like he wanted to fly. “Names you really need to know are mine - Ryan, but the guys call me Reezy.”
‘Ryan,’ Michael’s brain repeated a few times, his eyes still focused on the tanned skin of Ryan’s chest until he slowly dragged his gaze higher.
“You’re the only one who calls you Reezy,” another swimmer approached the foursome near the doorway. “Try not to listen to this idiot too much you guys. Welcome to Kappa Gamma.”
“I was about to introduce you man. Where’s the Reezy love tonight?” Ryan pouted just as Michael managed to look up at his face. His stomach did a funny flip-flop thing and he was glad for the shadow that hid his blush because he had a hundred different thoughts about very inappropriate things he would like those lips to do other than pout.
“I can introduce myself, Ry,” the swimmer smiled and the group and Michael found himself smiling back. He had a nice smile and seemed friendly, Michael noted, but he lacked the breath-taking attractiveness that Ryan possessed. “Cullen Jones, pledge educator. I’m here to make sure you all survive Rush and can balance classes, practice, and the frat for your first year. We don’t like dropping pledges who get kicked off the team, but it is university policy, so it’s my job to make sure that doesn’t happen to you guys.”
“Do freshmen get kicked off the team a lot?” Berens asked.
“Sometimes,” Cullen shrugged, “but usually to guys who didn’t have the focus to swim at the university level anyway.”
Michael understood that. Swimming was very much a sport of disciple, focus, and determination, and too many distractions led to bad times and poor practices in the pool. Bob had trained him well for the last eight years, so Michael knew that if he kept his distractions at a minimum he would be fine. Although with the thought of distractions, Michael’s eyes immediately slid back to Ryan’s blue eyes and messy curls. It was possible he would have a major distraction after all.
“The other person you really need to know is Brendan. He’s president of Kappa Gamma and team captain this year,” Cullen continued.
“Yo, Hansen!” Ryan waved his arms wildly above his head in what was likely a completely normal motion for Ryan, but if Michael had tried it someone would probably think he was fighting off a swarm of invisible insects or trying to land a plane.
From one of the lounge chairs someone waved back and shouted, “Hey Reezy! Get them in the pool!”
Ryan looked entirely too smug when he grinned first at Cullen and then at the three freshmen. It was almost predatory (or was that just Michael’s interpretation?) the way his gaze settled on Michael, which caused even the back of the younger swimmer’s neck to flush red with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. “You heard the man--” Ryan’s smile was broad and showed all his teeth, “strip and get in the pool, or you’ll go in fully dressed.”
All around them the other swimmers sat up to watch, which set off Michael’s nerves. “Um…”
“Now,” Ryan added, then took Michael by the wrist and dragged him a step closer to the pool. The hand was warm around his wrist and Michael felt the heat of the touch even through two layers of fabric.
“Okay, okay,” Michael snapped out of his stupor and grounded his feet so he couldn’t be pulled any further. He was almost disappointed when Ryan released his hold on Michael’s arm, but the older swimmer’s gaze never strayed. Even as Michael loosened his tie and dropped his jacket over a chair he felt Ryan’s eyes on him, which made it far more difficult to get undressed and hide his arousal at the same time.
Michael hadn’t been self-conscious in the locker room in years, not since he worked out and filled out in high school, but as he stripped down on the patio of the fraternity house in front of the entire men’s swim team, he was more than a little unnerved. The matter of his body’s strong reaction to Ryan’s did not help the situation - he wanted to avoid the reputation of pervert or exhibitionist, because neither would bode well to survive four years on the swim team.
With his future reputation with the team at stake, he got himself under control until he was naked except for a pair of blue briefs-he had some sense of self-preservation, but also knew he would drop them if it was required of him.
The air was cool on his skin and goose bumps sprung up immediately on his arms and chest, so he was forced to rub them awkwardly. Berens and Peter were no better off as they stood awkwardly in their own underwear; Peter hopped up and down a few times to keep warm, and Berens had his arms crossed uncomfortably across his chest.
“In the pool, bitches,” Ryan tipped his head toward the back part of the yard and the illuminated pool. “Two lengths of each stroke, IM order. Let’s see what you pledges are made of!”
A cheer went up from the upperclassmen who were gathered around and chatter started about who they thought would win of the three freshmen, as if they were a spectacle expected to perform on demand. Michael wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but swim was one thing he was always prepared to do.
The three, Michael, Peter, and Berens glanced at one another and shuffled forward to the edge of the pool. It was just a home pool with no lanes or lines, which always makes racing more difficult. Michael groaned inwardly as he analyzed the pool and expected that it was a disaster in the making. There was a huge chance to crash into the other two swimmers, the side, or bottom of the pool, and the fact that it was not even twenty-five yards across would make it impossible to count his strokes for help.
“Whichever of you wins gets to keep his clothes,” Ryan informed them gleefully, a grin on his face. “The other two go home the way you are after the race. Last place means you leave your phone and keys here, so don’t lose.”
Shit. Michael watched in dismay as his clothing was taken hostage and moved inside the house. There was no way out of it, but at least the other two looked as resigned as he felt.
“Line up,” Cullen stood at the edge of the shallow end and waited impatiently for the three to approach the pool. “Quickly. You don’t want to swim four laps of each in this pool, trust me. Ryan ended up in the hospital last year with brain damage. Let’s not have a repeat of that.”
“Hey!” Ryan shouted, obviously offended by the accusation of brain damage. “It was just a concussion!”
Cullen ignored him and continued, “That means pay attention on your backstroke. Figure out how you want to manage it, but get to the wall or it doesn’t count. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” they chorused and lined up on either side of Cullen at the pool’s edge. Michael took to the older swimmer’s right, while Peter and Berens stayed to his left, which would give Michael a slight advantage if everyone swam straight.
“On your marks,” Cullen intoned as spectators drew closer, packed in all around the pool for the best view of the race.
Michael tried to close out the sounds and distractions in the yard, but he hadn’t warmed up and he was in his underwear so the conditions were less than ideal anyway. He leaned forward for the best start position he could manage without a block and waited for the signal from Cullen.
“Go!” Michael was in the air as soon as Cullen shouted to take all the distance he could before he hit the water. The fly was Michael’s best stroke, but his long arms were actually a hindrance in a backyard pool as he had to adjust his stroke to avoid the side of the pool with his hand, which left him with a minor handicap in the water. He was ahead of the other two at the turn, but by the time he switched to a strong backstroke the other two had made up some ground. Michael’s eyes searched out Cullen when he returned to shallow water on his back so he would not hit the wall. The change in stroke was difficult due to the shallow water, and he lost a lot of time while he adjusted his position for the breast stroke. He was barely off the wall when Berens and Peter reached it.
If Michael had a weak stroke, he would be the first to admit that it was the breast. The pool was short, which worked to his advantage during the third stroke when he kicked his way three-quarters of the way across the pool with the momentum off the wall. A decent turn in the deeper end of the pool meant he saw just how close Peter was to him, but then Michael fell slightly behind on the return trip. Freestyle was quicker than any other stroke, but even at that, Michael was forced to throw an extra burst of speed into his final strokes with the hope that it would be enough to close the distance. There was no way he intended to loose his clothes!
He stood in the shallow end once he touched the wall and wiped the water from his eyes to see where the other two were. A hand through his hair spiked it up messily as Cullen announced, “Phelps is first!” to a huge cheer.
The other swimmers congratulated Michael and ruffled his hair further when Cullen added, “And it looks like Berens will be the one taking the long walk home with no clothes, no keys, and no phone. I wouldn’t want to be him tonight!” The laughter was good-natured, but Michael was extremely pleased he had finished first.
“Tough break man,” Michael overheard Peter say to Berens, but he was quickly pulled away by the older swimmers before he could offer his own condolences.
“Knew you’d do it, MPeezy!” That was Ryan with a hand on Michael’s shoulder and his legs in the water while he sat at the edge of the pool. “Nice kicks out there.”
Michael blushed at both the cheesy nickname and the compliment before he dropped his gaze to the water to hide his reddened cheeks. Ryan took the opportunity to ruffle Michael’s hair as the others had, but it was obvious his fingers lingered in the wet locks of hair. While he was uncertain of Ryan’s intentions, it felt nice and he was in no hurry to move away from the light touch.
Michael was rarely one to be physically affectionate, but there was just something in the way Ryan touched him-he didn’t even know the guy, but it was easy to crouch down in the water next to him and just stop the thoughts and worries that filled his head. For a few minutes his thoughts were blissfully blank and relaxed as conversation carried on around them, Ryan included as he talked to one of the other brothers while he petted Michael’s hair.
“Ryan,” Cullen’s voice had an slight edge to it and the unspoken reprimand drew Michael’s attention upward to the older two. “Leave him be. You don’t need to scare the boy off on Rush Night.”
“He’s fine dude, aren’t you Mikey?” Ryan pulled his hand away and dropped it on the edge of the pool instead, which left Michael mildly disappointed and confused at the defensiveness in Ryan’s voice.
“Excuse us for a moment, Michael. Ry, I need to talk to you,” Cullen’s request was polite but firm, and left no question that it was a demand not a request. Michael made a mental note not to have that tone directed at him anytime soon.
“Just let me have some fun before you get mad at me,” Ryan complained, but got to his feet and followed Cullen to the far side of patio where they had a rather animated conversation that was complete with hand motions and facial expressions. Michael could not hear a word that was said, but he watched as much as he was able. Cullen looked worried and Ryan was upset, and they both glanced his way often so he looked away quickly and hoped that he wasn’t noticed.
“I can see why you were recruited. Good race, Michael.” Peter’s voice broke his attention away from Ryan and Cullen and brought him back to the conversations in the pool.
“Oh, um, thanks,” Michael stumbled over his words. “You too… I thought you were going to get me after the breast.”
“I probably would have, but Ricky and I got tangled up on the turn and I kicked him in the head on accident,” it was said as fact, though his sheepish smile was accompanied by a shrug so he didn’t come across as arrogant to Michael.
“Ouch,” Michael grimaced in sympathy. That was the exact reason he had kept close to the wall to avoid a tangle with the other two. “How is he?”
“He’ll survive. It wasn’t hard enough to cause any damage,” Peter explained quickly.
“It happens sometimes,” he shrugged in an attempt to make Peter feel better. “Don’t worry about it.”
When Michael glanced back to the patio, Ryan was no where to be seen, and Cullen was already back at the poolside. “Everything okay?” he tried for indifference, but his voice was too eager to convince anyone.
“Yeah, Ryan needed to deal with something in the house, not a big deal,” Cullen brushed the question off for the most part. “I wanted to be the first to welcome you to Kappa Gamma, if you all want in?”
“Yes!” Peter and Berens, who had approached from behind Michael, agreed quickly and only left Michael with the opportunity to nod his assent. To join the swim team’s fraternity house was the reason he had come here in the first place, right? Whatever had just gone on with Ryan wouldn’t change that. Shouldn’t, anyway.
***
“D’you think he’s okay out there?” Jon leaned into Chris’ side on the couch. “I hope he doesn’t hurt himself drooling over that guy.”
Chris chuckled and wrapped an arm around the smaller man, “He’ll be fine, babe. He’s out there with the other fish boys, probably in the pool by now.”
Jon was really cute when he worried, which was impossible for Chris to resist so he leaned in to for a light kiss. His boyfriend really was the mother hen who looked out for them, and had been that way as long as they’d known one another. It wasn’t that he fretted over them, because Jon was often the one who suggested they do crazy things, but he always promoted responsibility and pushed his teammates to be their best and grow. It was one of the things Chris loved most about him.
“He’ll probably stay here when we move on to Delta Pi, don’t you think? I don’t want to just assume that and leave him here though.” Jon paid very little attention to the game-it was the Colts and the Steelers though, so Chris wasn’t too concerned about his inattentiveness.
“He has his keys and he knows his way back to the dorms. He’ll make it home at some point tonight,” Chris squeezed him in reassurance. “But if it makes you feel better, we can stop by here on our way back to make sure he’s gone home.”
“Okay,” Jon sounded appeased for the moment and settled in with his head on Chris’ shoulder, his attention finally on the television.
Around them he noticed a few members of their Rush group gave them weird looks, but he ignored it for the most part. People had always judged them for being gymnasts, so when they came out in high school nothing changed. Even now, all he needed to do was drop his hand possessively on Jon’s thigh and smirk, and they all turned away uncomfortably.
The game did nothing to hold Chris’ attention because he wasn’t into football the same way Jon and Mike were, so he spent most of his time at the Kappa Gamma house watching the backyard through the window.
The window was behind Jon, so if he sat just right (albeit rather uncomfortably) he could see most of what happened out there. All the brothers gathered around the pool to watch Mike, Peter, and that other guy swim. Chris sniggered when he realized they were all in their underwear and the rest of the brothers were in speedos at most. How was it that gymnasts had the reputation of queer when they wore so much more clothing and touched each other much less than swimmers?
His boyfriend glanced up at him questioningly then followed his gaze out the window. “At least his clothes aren’t messed up-I would hate to hear when he had that phone call with his mom.”
Chris laughed quietly, aware that the game was on and he didn’t want to interrupt it. “You ready to do whatever they ask us to at our house? I bet they’ll make us try something.”
“I doubt they’ll have an H-bar at the house, so you’re already better off than I am if they ask us to show off our tricks,” the smaller gymnast teased. “We’re not all lucky enough to just stand there and impress people.”
“Says the one who flies and lands like he was born doing it,” Chris added with a smile. Jon was small, but in Chris’ eyes he was the strongest gymnast he had ever met and knew how to use that strength to his advantage in every event.
“That’s because I was, just ask my mom.” Jon smirked and nudged his side.
“I talked to your mom last night--” Chris shot right back. Sure Jon had handed him the phone and laid on top of him while he talked to Jon’s mom, but still.
“What are we, in middle school?” Jon laughed at him for the bad ‘your mom’ comeback until they were interrupted by someone who seemed to be faintly annoyed.
“Can you guys move over?”
Chris looked up to see the guy from before, Ryan, he thought his name was. “Uh, sure,” he scooted closer to Jon so he was half-seated on top of his boyfriend, which left just enough space where Ryan squeezed in next to the other guy on the couch.
“What’s the score?” he asked, arms crossed over his bare chest. The guy on the other end of the couch looked uncomfortable and mumbled something Chris didn’t catch as he retreated and moved away from Ryan’s state of near-nakedness. Suddenly there was a lot of space on the couch.
“Wasn’t really watching man, it’s a lost cause for the Colts,” Chris shrugged apologetically as they readjusted their positions to account for the new space.
“Sounds right,” Ryan looked over at them and caught Chris’ gaze.
He may have stared at Ryan until he was noticed, but who could blame him when the swimmer was extremely tanned and attractive?
Recognition lit up clouded blue eyes and in an instant Ryan was more interested in them than the game. “Hey, you two came in with the Phelps kid, right? How well do you know him?”
Jon was the one that answered, and leaned across Chris to reply quietly, “He’s my roommate, but we’re all friends. What does it matter?”
Chris could tell by the defensiveness in his tone that boyfriend was in protective mode, and it made him wonder if Jon had noticed the looks after all. There wasn’t much reason for one of the brothers to talk to a pledge’s friends unless they were concerned about something.
“I was just asking,” Ryan held a hand up as if to swear his innocence. “He seems like a cool dude to have around.”
The shorter gymnast studied Ryan for a long minute that made the swimmer squirm, even though he had fifty pounds and more than a foot on Jon. It amused Chris, but eventually he took pity on the swimmer and rubbed Jon’s knee. Whether it was his influence or Jon came to his own decision about Ryan, Chris didn’t care too much, but Jon was less defensive when he replied, “He is a good guy. Your house would be lucky to have him.”
“He’s already in,” Ryan shared quietly so they wouldn’t be overheard. It wasn’t normal for a brother to share someone’s pledge status with other rushees. “He was in the minute he picked Cypress.”
Chris looked to Jon, one eyebrow raised in question. He knew Michael was at the university on an athletic scholarship, but he hadn’t realized he was that good.
“In that case, I hope you actually get to know Mike, since you’re just rushing him for the fact he’s Michael Phelps,” Jon was less than impressed by Ryan’s botched attempt at reassurance.
“We’re a team, dude. He’s a cool guy. It isn’t just about his name or the fact he’s the best swimmer in the country right now,” the older man sighed and crossed his arms again.
“Is everything okay?” Chris tried to change the subject. “You’re the only one from the house in here…”
“Its fine,” Ryan shrugged and gave a half-hearted attempt at cockiness that Chris saw right through, “the brothers thought my sexy manliness was too much for the pledges.”
Chris laughed anyway because he was pretty sure Ryan was the only one unaware that Mike had practically drooled over him. “Too much for Peter probably. He’s a little weird about that kind of stuff…”
Ryan let out a genuine laugh, “You know PVK then too?”
“He’s my roommate,” Chris shrugged and grinned. “The university had fun pairing off swimmers and gymnasts for roommates this year.”
“You’ll join D-Pi then?” the swimmer seemed genuinely interested. “They really only take gymnasts and divers.”
“That was our plan,” Jon spoke up again. “Coach says it’s the best way to get to know the rest of the team, since we haven’t trained with them yet.”
“You should probably head over to the house,” Ryan pointed to where the rest of their rush group was gathered to move on to the Delta Pi house. “I’ll have someone tell Mike where you went.”
“Thanks,” Chris stood and offered a hand to pull Jon to his feet. “We didn’t want to just ditch him.”
“It was nice meeting you,” Jon shook Ryan’s hand, to the amusement of the swimmer.
“You too.”
Chris had intended to talk to Jon about what had just happened in the Kappa Gamma house, but never had the chance because they were hurried to their last stop of the night, the Delta Pi Lambda house. The moment had finally arrived to meet the rest of the team they would compete with for the next year.
***
Michael lost track of time while he was in the pool that night, which wasn’t uncommon for him in the slightest except that he socialized during that time rather than swam laps. Most of the guys on the team were easy to talk to; even if they were extremely different from Michael there was always the safe topic of swimming to fall back on.
After a while, however, it became obvious Ryan wasn’t going to come back out. He heard stories about Ryan’s antics and exploits from the other swimmers, but eventually they began to notice Ryan’s absence too. A few asked Cullen about it, but he stayed tight-lipped on the matter and told them all Ryan had gone to bed early because he didn’t feel well.
It made Michael a little uncomfortable to have been part of it, however small a part, but not to understand the situation or what happened. He knew instinctively that he wouldn’t get an answer from the pledge educator, but he needed to know why Ryan had been told off and sent inside. Without Cullen’s help, that left only Ryan as a source of information.
One of the actives had come by earlier and told him his friends had gone on to the Delta Pi house, so he wasn’t worried that Jon or Chris waited for him and he had enjoyed his time with his new teammates. When Peter and a few of the actives started to make excuses and head to bed he realized it was much later than he had anticipated, so his time was limited.
“Hey Brendan, think I could get my clothes and use the bathroom? I really should get back and finish my problem set tonight,” Michael asked the current president because he was closest, and accompanied the question with a sheepish smile that usually got him what he wanted.
“School before parties,” Brendan nodded in approval and clapped a hand on his back. “Sure man, your stuff should be in the kitchen. Bathroom is upstairs, second door on the left.”
“Thanks,” Michael was relieved by how easy it had been to get access to the upstairs of the house and quickly said his goodbyes before he went inside. True to Brendan’s word, his clothes were folded neatly on the counter to wait for him. With the fabric bundled against his chest he found his way back to the front door and the staircase.
At the top of the staircase was the newest composite of the active brothers, which stopped Michael for a moment to look at it. He recognized a lot of the faces, even if he didn’t remember their names, but there were still a few he hadn’t met. He searched out Ryan’s picture, where the older swimmer had made a silly face for the camera even while in his suit and tie that matched the rest of the brothers. It definitely fit his image of Ryan and who he was on the team.
After a minute he turned left from the photograph and found the right door, but his movement was halted when Ryan himself exited from the bathroom to the hallway.
“Hey Mikey,” Ryan smiled easily, though his eyes were more guarded than they had been before. “Did’ya get lost?”
Ryan had changed at some point so he was dressed in loose pajama pants with cartoon dinosaurs all over them. The fabric sat low on his hips so it exposed just as much skin had his speedo had below the navel. He had the lightest trail of hair that led down and disappeared below the waistband, which told Michael it had been a few weeks since he had swam in a competition.
“I was, erm--” Michael mumbled distractedly as he tried not to stare. “You disappeared.” Smooth Phelps. That had definitely not been what he intended to say.
“So you came looking for me?” Ryan sounded pleased and Michael risked a glance at his face to see him beam.
“Well…” would he sound like a stalker if he said yes? “Maybe? I was going to change,” he added by way of explanation.
Ryan seemed to debate over his next words. “Want to hang in my room? Cullen will freak if he knows you’re up here.”
“Sure,” Michael replied without a second thought, but it was the easiest decision he had made all night.
“Sweet, come on,” Ryan headed down the hallway to the last door as if he expected Michael to follow. Each door had a name or two above it, so when they reached Ryan’s door it announced that the room was shared with Cullen.
“Isn’t he…” Michael started to ask but trailed off when Ryan tapped the white board on the door.
‘Fuck off Cul.’ It said in sloppy handwriting. ‘Hope the couch is comfy!’
Michael bit back a snort of laughter and ducked into the room so Ryan could lock it behind them. Suddenly he was a little nervous to be so close, and so very alone, with the attractive swimmer.
“Here, get dry,” Ryan tossed him a towel and rummaged through a drawer for what turned out to be another pair of pajama pants, a tame blue plaid, which he passed to Michael.
“Thanks,” Michael dried his hair first before he wrapped the towel around his waist to drop his underwear with the practiced ease of a deck change. With anyone of the other guys he wouldn’t have bothered with the towel, but here he needed some level of cover to keep his lower body in check.
“You guys got off easy. Last year we had to do the swim naked-it made things a lot more interesting when they had to take me to the ER.” Ryan chuckled and flopped onto his bed. “They were talking about hazing and all that, but we don’t do that shit here.”
“That’s reassuring,” Michael smiled shyly, finally dressed in Ryan’s clothes. Ryan’s pants were too big for Michael’s narrow hips, so the waistband sat dangerously low, even with the drawstring pulled tight.
“Come on, get comfortable,” Ryan grinned and patted the blanket next to him with one hand, his other occupied as he flipped through songs on his ipod. Michael made it as far as the bed before a Lil’ Wayne song filled the room with sound.
“Good music,” Michael grinned back and laid on the bed next to him. The mattress was wide enough that they had space between them so they didn’t touch, so they just laid there side-by-side and it didn’t seem weird at all. Laying next to someone wasn’t something Michael was particularly used to, he wouldn’t even imagine spending his time next to Jon or even one of his friends from back home, so it should have been uncomfortable or strange. It wasn’t.
“I knew you were cool, man. Cullen can appreciate Wheezy, but everyone else is boring.” Ryan didn’t look at him, so Michael followed his cue and looked up at the ceiling instead. It wasn’t anything spectacular, it was just a ceiling, but it had those little glow-in-the-dark star stickers in clusters all around the room. “The guy who had this room last year was into astronomy or something. We thought they were kinda awesome so we left them up.”
Michael smiled to himself. It felt nice to have someone answer his questions before he asked them. “Do you know what they’re all called?”
“Not a clue,” Ryan’s grin was obvious even in his voice. “But I do know the big spoon and the little spoon.”
The younger swimmer laughed in reply. “I hope you never use that as a pick-up line,” he teased.
“Why not? Are you saying it wouldn’t work on you?” Ryan turned to look at him, his blue eyes darker than Michael had seen them yet, but it was impossible to tell if he was serious or not.
“Why did you come inside earlier?” Michael asked, rather than answer the question. “I felt like I did something wrong because we were having a good time. Well, I thought we were anyway.” He felt his cheeks color when he shared far more than he planned to, and turned away in embarrassment to hide the blush.
The room fell silent as the song came to an end, and though it was only a few seconds before the next one started, it felt like a lifetime passed. The mattress shifted and he felt Ryan move closer behind him. Cautiously Ryan’s hand moved over Michael’s hip and rested on his stomach, and the younger man could not hide the way his breath caught in his throat.
When Michael didn’t push him away Ryan moved closer and tucked his body behind the younger swimmer’s. His nose brushed the back of Michael’s shoulder before he spoke. “We were having a good time,” Ryan whispered. “I’m hoping I didn’t get you wrong earlier…”
Michael found it hard to breathe with Ryan so close, his breaths shallow and nervous, and he shivered when the older swimmer’s thumb brushed over his hipbone. “You have it right,” Michael whispered back, as if a normal volume would break whatever had happened in the last few minutes. Michael hadn’t understood Ryan’s intentions while they were in the pool, but he did in that moment, however it still didn’t answer his question. “So why did you leave?”
“Cullen is like, my bro. He could tell I was totally into you… but there’s like the house, and he thought I’d fuck it up and we’d lose you for the team,” Ryan’s breath was warm on his neck and made him want to be even closer to the older swimmer.
“What does that mean?” Michael wondered aloud.
“He wants me to drop this-whatever this thing is. He thinks it’s like, an I-wanna-fuck-you-until-you-forget-your-name thing, but I dunno if it is… I mean I don’t even know you, but I want to, you know?” Ryan’s face was tucked against Michael’s neck as he rambled. It was actually kind of cute really.
“So… you want to try dating me?” Michael was nervous even when he asked, still a little confused by what Ryan wanted. “Or be friends with benefits?”
“Yeah, something like that. I think.” Ryan’s reply was muffled by Michael’s skin. “I can’t promise I’m any good at this. I’ll probably fuck it up, and we’ll both have like, blue balls or something before Cullen is convinced that I’m not taking advantage of you or something like that. And PVK and Ricky might think I’m treating you special or whatever, but I’m not like, trying to get you to sleep with me so you’ll get in the house--” It all spilled out of Ryan’s mouth in an awkward jumble of words and semi-formed arguments that both defended and attacked whatever could develop between them.
“Ryan, shhh,” Michael interrupted and laid a gentle hand on the older swimmer’s hip. It was all a bit much to talk about that stuff so soon. “Do we need to worry about all of that right now? Let’s just enjoy it right now, okay?”
“Jeah, Mikey,” Ryan sounded less panicked than before and rubbed his nose against Michael’s shoulder affectionately. “Jeah, let’s just do that. Cul can hold his own cows, or horses, or whatever.”
Michael smiled and closed his eyes, content to just lay with Ryan. The team’s reaction, Cullen’s worries, and even his statistics problem set could be dealt with in the morning.
***
Jon received a text message later that night. He had been almost asleep with his head on Chris’ chest when his phone buzzed on his bedside table, but he reached for it just in case it was important.
2:17am Michael Phelps
Stayed at the house. Help me with stats 2morrow?
Jon smiled sleepily in the soft blue glow of his cell phone screen.
2:18am Jon
Good 4 u MP. I want details in the morning.
“I think they would be hot together,” Chris mumbled and tightened his hold on his boyfriend.
The phone was set aside again and Jon kissed his chest lightly. “I don’t want to hear about how hot you think my roommate is, babe.”
Chris laughed quietly and laid his hand possessively on Jon’s ass. “You know you’re the only one I want, but you can’t fault me for looking.”
“No, I guess not,” Jon yawned and snuggled closer. “But… maybe you’re right… would be hot…” his words trailed off as he fell asleep, heard by only deaf ears as Chris drifted to sleep moments before.
Author: kingzgurl
Verse: Bonds of Brotherhood (Fraternity AU)
Fandom: Olympics, Swimming and Gymnastics
Pairing: Michael Phelps/Ryan Lochte, Jonathan Horton/Chris Brooks
Word Count: 9,500
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Rush Night freshman year changed Michael Phelps’ life. It was a night he almost skipped out on.
Part One.
***
The swimmer was relieved when the Rush coordinator announced that the next stop would be the Kappa Gamma Nu house. Finally. He’d suffered two hours of boredom and humiliation already that evening - he needed something as familiar as other swimmers, even if he’d never met any of them.
“Ready?” Chris slapped him on the back as they stepped up onto the front patio. “Just don’t do anything stupid and I bet they’ll love your goofy dolphin self as much as we do.”
“You sound like my mom on the first day of school,” Michael laughed awkwardly, suddenly nervous about meeting his future teammates. Though his mom never mentioned his ‘goofy dolphin self’, the first day of school always meant she’d remind him that anyone worth being friends with wouldn’t make fun of his ears. It never made the first day any easier, and the mere thought of it caused him to fix the shaggy ends of his hair to cover the tops of his ears.
“Look at him go honey, he’s all grown up now,” Jon teased and grabbed Chris’ arm. “I’m so proud of our little Mikey!”
“Seriously? Shut up,” Michael felt as if he’d repeated that phrase a hundred times since Rush began. He really needed to find a new phrase so he wouldn’t sound like a teenage girl. Behind him he heard a snort of laughter from Peter, and there was clearly no hope to survive the night with his dignity intact.
He took two steps towards the door but it opened before anyone knocked, and the sight before him made him freeze in place and forget how to breathe. The most attractive man he had ever seen stood in the doorway, shirtless and in the smallest speedo known to mankind. Nothing was left to the imagination in a tiny bit of blue fabric with orange stars lining a rather significant bulge. Michael stared shamelessly as he looked him over, and the only comprehensible thought in his mind was if all the men on the team looked even half that good, he was in serious trouble.
“Jeah, motherfuckers! Get in here - welcome to the palace of King Reezy!” the swimmer spread his arms to welcome them in, and invited even more attention to his broad chest and toned abs.
Michael gazed upon the tanned Adonis before him and traced the firm planes of muscle to his memory. While a man in a speedo was a common sight in a swimmer’s life, there was something specifically about this one who captured Michael’s attention.
The crowd of guys on the patio moved forward into the house, which caused Michael to stumble as he had been rather distracted. He would have made quite the impression and fallen face-first in the entry way except that two pairs of hands grabbed him from behind to keep him upright at the last second.
“Shit, Mike,” Jon hissed. “You look like you just saw someone get hit by a bus.”
“I have to agree that’s one hot piece of dolphin ass, but you should probably close your mouth… this isn’t exactly the best place to get on your knees for a mouthful of cock.” Chris murmured low in his ear, and if Michael’s brain had functioned properly he would have realized the gymnast had to stand on his tiptoes to make him hear the comment. “Breathe and walk, dude. You’re blocking the door.”
Michael’s brain had gone more than a bit fuzzy with the first appearance of the older swimmer, but he somehow managed to shut his mouth and take the steps necessary to cross the threshold of the fraternity house.
The entryway of the house was tiled with terra cotta and open to both sides, while ahead of the group was a wide staircase to the upstairs. To the right was a living room with multiple couches and a large flat screen television, while to the left of the entry was a dining room. Michael reveled momentarily in the sheer size of the house before his attention was once again drawn to the nearly naked man who had retreated to the stairs so he could see everyone in the group.
“If you’re dumb and don’t know yet, we only take swimmers here at Kappa Gamma Nu. Anyone who isn’t a swimmer can kick it in the comfy room o’ couches until you move to the next house. Snacks are on the table, and the game is on - don’t make a mess.” The swimmer’s voice was deep and melodic, and his manner of speech was slow and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world and he couldn’t be bothered to rush through his introduction to the house. Michael suspected his was from the south, but any accent was faint and indistinct. He might also have been high, but Michael suspected it was more likely that he was just from the south.
“You’re on your own, Mikey,” Chris squeezes his shoulder. “We’re gonna catch that game… try not to make too much of a fool of yourself.”
“Uh huh,” Michael noticed most of the group headed towards the living room and the couches, which left Michael, Peter, and one other guy in the entryway. His mouth felt unnaturally dry, as if it was stuffed with cotton and he took a deep breath and willed himself not to say anything stupid.
“Phelps, Vanderkaay, and Berens with me,” Michael didn’t have enough time to register the fact that the attractive swimmer already knew who he was before he followed the older swimmer through the dining room and kitchen, then out into the backyard. His gaze had fallen to the perfect ass that paraded before him, so he didn’t pay much attention to the rooms they crossed through.
A minute later they emerged onto a large patio that was strewn with chairs and lounges, all covered with swimmers in various states of dress and undress where they were gathered around a pool.
“Welcome to da casa. These are the guys,” he waved his hand around, Michael assumed to gesture at the other swimmers, but it mostly looked like he wanted to fly. “Names you really need to know are mine - Ryan, but the guys call me Reezy.”
‘Ryan,’ Michael’s brain repeated a few times, his eyes still focused on the tanned skin of Ryan’s chest until he slowly dragged his gaze higher.
“You’re the only one who calls you Reezy,” another swimmer approached the foursome near the doorway. “Try not to listen to this idiot too much you guys. Welcome to Kappa Gamma.”
“I was about to introduce you man. Where’s the Reezy love tonight?” Ryan pouted just as Michael managed to look up at his face. His stomach did a funny flip-flop thing and he was glad for the shadow that hid his blush because he had a hundred different thoughts about very inappropriate things he would like those lips to do other than pout.
“I can introduce myself, Ry,” the swimmer smiled and the group and Michael found himself smiling back. He had a nice smile and seemed friendly, Michael noted, but he lacked the breath-taking attractiveness that Ryan possessed. “Cullen Jones, pledge educator. I’m here to make sure you all survive Rush and can balance classes, practice, and the frat for your first year. We don’t like dropping pledges who get kicked off the team, but it is university policy, so it’s my job to make sure that doesn’t happen to you guys.”
“Do freshmen get kicked off the team a lot?” Berens asked.
“Sometimes,” Cullen shrugged, “but usually to guys who didn’t have the focus to swim at the university level anyway.”
Michael understood that. Swimming was very much a sport of disciple, focus, and determination, and too many distractions led to bad times and poor practices in the pool. Bob had trained him well for the last eight years, so Michael knew that if he kept his distractions at a minimum he would be fine. Although with the thought of distractions, Michael’s eyes immediately slid back to Ryan’s blue eyes and messy curls. It was possible he would have a major distraction after all.
“The other person you really need to know is Brendan. He’s president of Kappa Gamma and team captain this year,” Cullen continued.
“Yo, Hansen!” Ryan waved his arms wildly above his head in what was likely a completely normal motion for Ryan, but if Michael had tried it someone would probably think he was fighting off a swarm of invisible insects or trying to land a plane.
From one of the lounge chairs someone waved back and shouted, “Hey Reezy! Get them in the pool!”
Ryan looked entirely too smug when he grinned first at Cullen and then at the three freshmen. It was almost predatory (or was that just Michael’s interpretation?) the way his gaze settled on Michael, which caused even the back of the younger swimmer’s neck to flush red with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. “You heard the man--” Ryan’s smile was broad and showed all his teeth, “strip and get in the pool, or you’ll go in fully dressed.”
All around them the other swimmers sat up to watch, which set off Michael’s nerves. “Um…”
“Now,” Ryan added, then took Michael by the wrist and dragged him a step closer to the pool. The hand was warm around his wrist and Michael felt the heat of the touch even through two layers of fabric.
“Okay, okay,” Michael snapped out of his stupor and grounded his feet so he couldn’t be pulled any further. He was almost disappointed when Ryan released his hold on Michael’s arm, but the older swimmer’s gaze never strayed. Even as Michael loosened his tie and dropped his jacket over a chair he felt Ryan’s eyes on him, which made it far more difficult to get undressed and hide his arousal at the same time.
Michael hadn’t been self-conscious in the locker room in years, not since he worked out and filled out in high school, but as he stripped down on the patio of the fraternity house in front of the entire men’s swim team, he was more than a little unnerved. The matter of his body’s strong reaction to Ryan’s did not help the situation - he wanted to avoid the reputation of pervert or exhibitionist, because neither would bode well to survive four years on the swim team.
With his future reputation with the team at stake, he got himself under control until he was naked except for a pair of blue briefs-he had some sense of self-preservation, but also knew he would drop them if it was required of him.
The air was cool on his skin and goose bumps sprung up immediately on his arms and chest, so he was forced to rub them awkwardly. Berens and Peter were no better off as they stood awkwardly in their own underwear; Peter hopped up and down a few times to keep warm, and Berens had his arms crossed uncomfortably across his chest.
“In the pool, bitches,” Ryan tipped his head toward the back part of the yard and the illuminated pool. “Two lengths of each stroke, IM order. Let’s see what you pledges are made of!”
A cheer went up from the upperclassmen who were gathered around and chatter started about who they thought would win of the three freshmen, as if they were a spectacle expected to perform on demand. Michael wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but swim was one thing he was always prepared to do.
The three, Michael, Peter, and Berens glanced at one another and shuffled forward to the edge of the pool. It was just a home pool with no lanes or lines, which always makes racing more difficult. Michael groaned inwardly as he analyzed the pool and expected that it was a disaster in the making. There was a huge chance to crash into the other two swimmers, the side, or bottom of the pool, and the fact that it was not even twenty-five yards across would make it impossible to count his strokes for help.
“Whichever of you wins gets to keep his clothes,” Ryan informed them gleefully, a grin on his face. “The other two go home the way you are after the race. Last place means you leave your phone and keys here, so don’t lose.”
Shit. Michael watched in dismay as his clothing was taken hostage and moved inside the house. There was no way out of it, but at least the other two looked as resigned as he felt.
“Line up,” Cullen stood at the edge of the shallow end and waited impatiently for the three to approach the pool. “Quickly. You don’t want to swim four laps of each in this pool, trust me. Ryan ended up in the hospital last year with brain damage. Let’s not have a repeat of that.”
“Hey!” Ryan shouted, obviously offended by the accusation of brain damage. “It was just a concussion!”
Cullen ignored him and continued, “That means pay attention on your backstroke. Figure out how you want to manage it, but get to the wall or it doesn’t count. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” they chorused and lined up on either side of Cullen at the pool’s edge. Michael took to the older swimmer’s right, while Peter and Berens stayed to his left, which would give Michael a slight advantage if everyone swam straight.
“On your marks,” Cullen intoned as spectators drew closer, packed in all around the pool for the best view of the race.
Michael tried to close out the sounds and distractions in the yard, but he hadn’t warmed up and he was in his underwear so the conditions were less than ideal anyway. He leaned forward for the best start position he could manage without a block and waited for the signal from Cullen.
“Go!” Michael was in the air as soon as Cullen shouted to take all the distance he could before he hit the water. The fly was Michael’s best stroke, but his long arms were actually a hindrance in a backyard pool as he had to adjust his stroke to avoid the side of the pool with his hand, which left him with a minor handicap in the water. He was ahead of the other two at the turn, but by the time he switched to a strong backstroke the other two had made up some ground. Michael’s eyes searched out Cullen when he returned to shallow water on his back so he would not hit the wall. The change in stroke was difficult due to the shallow water, and he lost a lot of time while he adjusted his position for the breast stroke. He was barely off the wall when Berens and Peter reached it.
If Michael had a weak stroke, he would be the first to admit that it was the breast. The pool was short, which worked to his advantage during the third stroke when he kicked his way three-quarters of the way across the pool with the momentum off the wall. A decent turn in the deeper end of the pool meant he saw just how close Peter was to him, but then Michael fell slightly behind on the return trip. Freestyle was quicker than any other stroke, but even at that, Michael was forced to throw an extra burst of speed into his final strokes with the hope that it would be enough to close the distance. There was no way he intended to loose his clothes!
He stood in the shallow end once he touched the wall and wiped the water from his eyes to see where the other two were. A hand through his hair spiked it up messily as Cullen announced, “Phelps is first!” to a huge cheer.
The other swimmers congratulated Michael and ruffled his hair further when Cullen added, “And it looks like Berens will be the one taking the long walk home with no clothes, no keys, and no phone. I wouldn’t want to be him tonight!” The laughter was good-natured, but Michael was extremely pleased he had finished first.
“Tough break man,” Michael overheard Peter say to Berens, but he was quickly pulled away by the older swimmers before he could offer his own condolences.
“Knew you’d do it, MPeezy!” That was Ryan with a hand on Michael’s shoulder and his legs in the water while he sat at the edge of the pool. “Nice kicks out there.”
Michael blushed at both the cheesy nickname and the compliment before he dropped his gaze to the water to hide his reddened cheeks. Ryan took the opportunity to ruffle Michael’s hair as the others had, but it was obvious his fingers lingered in the wet locks of hair. While he was uncertain of Ryan’s intentions, it felt nice and he was in no hurry to move away from the light touch.
Michael was rarely one to be physically affectionate, but there was just something in the way Ryan touched him-he didn’t even know the guy, but it was easy to crouch down in the water next to him and just stop the thoughts and worries that filled his head. For a few minutes his thoughts were blissfully blank and relaxed as conversation carried on around them, Ryan included as he talked to one of the other brothers while he petted Michael’s hair.
“Ryan,” Cullen’s voice had an slight edge to it and the unspoken reprimand drew Michael’s attention upward to the older two. “Leave him be. You don’t need to scare the boy off on Rush Night.”
“He’s fine dude, aren’t you Mikey?” Ryan pulled his hand away and dropped it on the edge of the pool instead, which left Michael mildly disappointed and confused at the defensiveness in Ryan’s voice.
“Excuse us for a moment, Michael. Ry, I need to talk to you,” Cullen’s request was polite but firm, and left no question that it was a demand not a request. Michael made a mental note not to have that tone directed at him anytime soon.
“Just let me have some fun before you get mad at me,” Ryan complained, but got to his feet and followed Cullen to the far side of patio where they had a rather animated conversation that was complete with hand motions and facial expressions. Michael could not hear a word that was said, but he watched as much as he was able. Cullen looked worried and Ryan was upset, and they both glanced his way often so he looked away quickly and hoped that he wasn’t noticed.
“I can see why you were recruited. Good race, Michael.” Peter’s voice broke his attention away from Ryan and Cullen and brought him back to the conversations in the pool.
“Oh, um, thanks,” Michael stumbled over his words. “You too… I thought you were going to get me after the breast.”
“I probably would have, but Ricky and I got tangled up on the turn and I kicked him in the head on accident,” it was said as fact, though his sheepish smile was accompanied by a shrug so he didn’t come across as arrogant to Michael.
“Ouch,” Michael grimaced in sympathy. That was the exact reason he had kept close to the wall to avoid a tangle with the other two. “How is he?”
“He’ll survive. It wasn’t hard enough to cause any damage,” Peter explained quickly.
“It happens sometimes,” he shrugged in an attempt to make Peter feel better. “Don’t worry about it.”
When Michael glanced back to the patio, Ryan was no where to be seen, and Cullen was already back at the poolside. “Everything okay?” he tried for indifference, but his voice was too eager to convince anyone.
“Yeah, Ryan needed to deal with something in the house, not a big deal,” Cullen brushed the question off for the most part. “I wanted to be the first to welcome you to Kappa Gamma, if you all want in?”
“Yes!” Peter and Berens, who had approached from behind Michael, agreed quickly and only left Michael with the opportunity to nod his assent. To join the swim team’s fraternity house was the reason he had come here in the first place, right? Whatever had just gone on with Ryan wouldn’t change that. Shouldn’t, anyway.
***
“D’you think he’s okay out there?” Jon leaned into Chris’ side on the couch. “I hope he doesn’t hurt himself drooling over that guy.”
Chris chuckled and wrapped an arm around the smaller man, “He’ll be fine, babe. He’s out there with the other fish boys, probably in the pool by now.”
Jon was really cute when he worried, which was impossible for Chris to resist so he leaned in to for a light kiss. His boyfriend really was the mother hen who looked out for them, and had been that way as long as they’d known one another. It wasn’t that he fretted over them, because Jon was often the one who suggested they do crazy things, but he always promoted responsibility and pushed his teammates to be their best and grow. It was one of the things Chris loved most about him.
“He’ll probably stay here when we move on to Delta Pi, don’t you think? I don’t want to just assume that and leave him here though.” Jon paid very little attention to the game-it was the Colts and the Steelers though, so Chris wasn’t too concerned about his inattentiveness.
“He has his keys and he knows his way back to the dorms. He’ll make it home at some point tonight,” Chris squeezed him in reassurance. “But if it makes you feel better, we can stop by here on our way back to make sure he’s gone home.”
“Okay,” Jon sounded appeased for the moment and settled in with his head on Chris’ shoulder, his attention finally on the television.
Around them he noticed a few members of their Rush group gave them weird looks, but he ignored it for the most part. People had always judged them for being gymnasts, so when they came out in high school nothing changed. Even now, all he needed to do was drop his hand possessively on Jon’s thigh and smirk, and they all turned away uncomfortably.
The game did nothing to hold Chris’ attention because he wasn’t into football the same way Jon and Mike were, so he spent most of his time at the Kappa Gamma house watching the backyard through the window.
The window was behind Jon, so if he sat just right (albeit rather uncomfortably) he could see most of what happened out there. All the brothers gathered around the pool to watch Mike, Peter, and that other guy swim. Chris sniggered when he realized they were all in their underwear and the rest of the brothers were in speedos at most. How was it that gymnasts had the reputation of queer when they wore so much more clothing and touched each other much less than swimmers?
His boyfriend glanced up at him questioningly then followed his gaze out the window. “At least his clothes aren’t messed up-I would hate to hear when he had that phone call with his mom.”
Chris laughed quietly, aware that the game was on and he didn’t want to interrupt it. “You ready to do whatever they ask us to at our house? I bet they’ll make us try something.”
“I doubt they’ll have an H-bar at the house, so you’re already better off than I am if they ask us to show off our tricks,” the smaller gymnast teased. “We’re not all lucky enough to just stand there and impress people.”
“Says the one who flies and lands like he was born doing it,” Chris added with a smile. Jon was small, but in Chris’ eyes he was the strongest gymnast he had ever met and knew how to use that strength to his advantage in every event.
“That’s because I was, just ask my mom.” Jon smirked and nudged his side.
“I talked to your mom last night--” Chris shot right back. Sure Jon had handed him the phone and laid on top of him while he talked to Jon’s mom, but still.
“What are we, in middle school?” Jon laughed at him for the bad ‘your mom’ comeback until they were interrupted by someone who seemed to be faintly annoyed.
“Can you guys move over?”
Chris looked up to see the guy from before, Ryan, he thought his name was. “Uh, sure,” he scooted closer to Jon so he was half-seated on top of his boyfriend, which left just enough space where Ryan squeezed in next to the other guy on the couch.
“What’s the score?” he asked, arms crossed over his bare chest. The guy on the other end of the couch looked uncomfortable and mumbled something Chris didn’t catch as he retreated and moved away from Ryan’s state of near-nakedness. Suddenly there was a lot of space on the couch.
“Wasn’t really watching man, it’s a lost cause for the Colts,” Chris shrugged apologetically as they readjusted their positions to account for the new space.
“Sounds right,” Ryan looked over at them and caught Chris’ gaze.
He may have stared at Ryan until he was noticed, but who could blame him when the swimmer was extremely tanned and attractive?
Recognition lit up clouded blue eyes and in an instant Ryan was more interested in them than the game. “Hey, you two came in with the Phelps kid, right? How well do you know him?”
Jon was the one that answered, and leaned across Chris to reply quietly, “He’s my roommate, but we’re all friends. What does it matter?”
Chris could tell by the defensiveness in his tone that boyfriend was in protective mode, and it made him wonder if Jon had noticed the looks after all. There wasn’t much reason for one of the brothers to talk to a pledge’s friends unless they were concerned about something.
“I was just asking,” Ryan held a hand up as if to swear his innocence. “He seems like a cool dude to have around.”
The shorter gymnast studied Ryan for a long minute that made the swimmer squirm, even though he had fifty pounds and more than a foot on Jon. It amused Chris, but eventually he took pity on the swimmer and rubbed Jon’s knee. Whether it was his influence or Jon came to his own decision about Ryan, Chris didn’t care too much, but Jon was less defensive when he replied, “He is a good guy. Your house would be lucky to have him.”
“He’s already in,” Ryan shared quietly so they wouldn’t be overheard. It wasn’t normal for a brother to share someone’s pledge status with other rushees. “He was in the minute he picked Cypress.”
Chris looked to Jon, one eyebrow raised in question. He knew Michael was at the university on an athletic scholarship, but he hadn’t realized he was that good.
“In that case, I hope you actually get to know Mike, since you’re just rushing him for the fact he’s Michael Phelps,” Jon was less than impressed by Ryan’s botched attempt at reassurance.
“We’re a team, dude. He’s a cool guy. It isn’t just about his name or the fact he’s the best swimmer in the country right now,” the older man sighed and crossed his arms again.
“Is everything okay?” Chris tried to change the subject. “You’re the only one from the house in here…”
“Its fine,” Ryan shrugged and gave a half-hearted attempt at cockiness that Chris saw right through, “the brothers thought my sexy manliness was too much for the pledges.”
Chris laughed anyway because he was pretty sure Ryan was the only one unaware that Mike had practically drooled over him. “Too much for Peter probably. He’s a little weird about that kind of stuff…”
Ryan let out a genuine laugh, “You know PVK then too?”
“He’s my roommate,” Chris shrugged and grinned. “The university had fun pairing off swimmers and gymnasts for roommates this year.”
“You’ll join D-Pi then?” the swimmer seemed genuinely interested. “They really only take gymnasts and divers.”
“That was our plan,” Jon spoke up again. “Coach says it’s the best way to get to know the rest of the team, since we haven’t trained with them yet.”
“You should probably head over to the house,” Ryan pointed to where the rest of their rush group was gathered to move on to the Delta Pi house. “I’ll have someone tell Mike where you went.”
“Thanks,” Chris stood and offered a hand to pull Jon to his feet. “We didn’t want to just ditch him.”
“It was nice meeting you,” Jon shook Ryan’s hand, to the amusement of the swimmer.
“You too.”
Chris had intended to talk to Jon about what had just happened in the Kappa Gamma house, but never had the chance because they were hurried to their last stop of the night, the Delta Pi Lambda house. The moment had finally arrived to meet the rest of the team they would compete with for the next year.
***
Michael lost track of time while he was in the pool that night, which wasn’t uncommon for him in the slightest except that he socialized during that time rather than swam laps. Most of the guys on the team were easy to talk to; even if they were extremely different from Michael there was always the safe topic of swimming to fall back on.
After a while, however, it became obvious Ryan wasn’t going to come back out. He heard stories about Ryan’s antics and exploits from the other swimmers, but eventually they began to notice Ryan’s absence too. A few asked Cullen about it, but he stayed tight-lipped on the matter and told them all Ryan had gone to bed early because he didn’t feel well.
It made Michael a little uncomfortable to have been part of it, however small a part, but not to understand the situation or what happened. He knew instinctively that he wouldn’t get an answer from the pledge educator, but he needed to know why Ryan had been told off and sent inside. Without Cullen’s help, that left only Ryan as a source of information.
One of the actives had come by earlier and told him his friends had gone on to the Delta Pi house, so he wasn’t worried that Jon or Chris waited for him and he had enjoyed his time with his new teammates. When Peter and a few of the actives started to make excuses and head to bed he realized it was much later than he had anticipated, so his time was limited.
“Hey Brendan, think I could get my clothes and use the bathroom? I really should get back and finish my problem set tonight,” Michael asked the current president because he was closest, and accompanied the question with a sheepish smile that usually got him what he wanted.
“School before parties,” Brendan nodded in approval and clapped a hand on his back. “Sure man, your stuff should be in the kitchen. Bathroom is upstairs, second door on the left.”
“Thanks,” Michael was relieved by how easy it had been to get access to the upstairs of the house and quickly said his goodbyes before he went inside. True to Brendan’s word, his clothes were folded neatly on the counter to wait for him. With the fabric bundled against his chest he found his way back to the front door and the staircase.
At the top of the staircase was the newest composite of the active brothers, which stopped Michael for a moment to look at it. He recognized a lot of the faces, even if he didn’t remember their names, but there were still a few he hadn’t met. He searched out Ryan’s picture, where the older swimmer had made a silly face for the camera even while in his suit and tie that matched the rest of the brothers. It definitely fit his image of Ryan and who he was on the team.
After a minute he turned left from the photograph and found the right door, but his movement was halted when Ryan himself exited from the bathroom to the hallway.
“Hey Mikey,” Ryan smiled easily, though his eyes were more guarded than they had been before. “Did’ya get lost?”
Ryan had changed at some point so he was dressed in loose pajama pants with cartoon dinosaurs all over them. The fabric sat low on his hips so it exposed just as much skin had his speedo had below the navel. He had the lightest trail of hair that led down and disappeared below the waistband, which told Michael it had been a few weeks since he had swam in a competition.
“I was, erm--” Michael mumbled distractedly as he tried not to stare. “You disappeared.” Smooth Phelps. That had definitely not been what he intended to say.
“So you came looking for me?” Ryan sounded pleased and Michael risked a glance at his face to see him beam.
“Well…” would he sound like a stalker if he said yes? “Maybe? I was going to change,” he added by way of explanation.
Ryan seemed to debate over his next words. “Want to hang in my room? Cullen will freak if he knows you’re up here.”
“Sure,” Michael replied without a second thought, but it was the easiest decision he had made all night.
“Sweet, come on,” Ryan headed down the hallway to the last door as if he expected Michael to follow. Each door had a name or two above it, so when they reached Ryan’s door it announced that the room was shared with Cullen.
“Isn’t he…” Michael started to ask but trailed off when Ryan tapped the white board on the door.
‘Fuck off Cul.’ It said in sloppy handwriting. ‘Hope the couch is comfy!’
Michael bit back a snort of laughter and ducked into the room so Ryan could lock it behind them. Suddenly he was a little nervous to be so close, and so very alone, with the attractive swimmer.
“Here, get dry,” Ryan tossed him a towel and rummaged through a drawer for what turned out to be another pair of pajama pants, a tame blue plaid, which he passed to Michael.
“Thanks,” Michael dried his hair first before he wrapped the towel around his waist to drop his underwear with the practiced ease of a deck change. With anyone of the other guys he wouldn’t have bothered with the towel, but here he needed some level of cover to keep his lower body in check.
“You guys got off easy. Last year we had to do the swim naked-it made things a lot more interesting when they had to take me to the ER.” Ryan chuckled and flopped onto his bed. “They were talking about hazing and all that, but we don’t do that shit here.”
“That’s reassuring,” Michael smiled shyly, finally dressed in Ryan’s clothes. Ryan’s pants were too big for Michael’s narrow hips, so the waistband sat dangerously low, even with the drawstring pulled tight.
“Come on, get comfortable,” Ryan grinned and patted the blanket next to him with one hand, his other occupied as he flipped through songs on his ipod. Michael made it as far as the bed before a Lil’ Wayne song filled the room with sound.
“Good music,” Michael grinned back and laid on the bed next to him. The mattress was wide enough that they had space between them so they didn’t touch, so they just laid there side-by-side and it didn’t seem weird at all. Laying next to someone wasn’t something Michael was particularly used to, he wouldn’t even imagine spending his time next to Jon or even one of his friends from back home, so it should have been uncomfortable or strange. It wasn’t.
“I knew you were cool, man. Cullen can appreciate Wheezy, but everyone else is boring.” Ryan didn’t look at him, so Michael followed his cue and looked up at the ceiling instead. It wasn’t anything spectacular, it was just a ceiling, but it had those little glow-in-the-dark star stickers in clusters all around the room. “The guy who had this room last year was into astronomy or something. We thought they were kinda awesome so we left them up.”
Michael smiled to himself. It felt nice to have someone answer his questions before he asked them. “Do you know what they’re all called?”
“Not a clue,” Ryan’s grin was obvious even in his voice. “But I do know the big spoon and the little spoon.”
The younger swimmer laughed in reply. “I hope you never use that as a pick-up line,” he teased.
“Why not? Are you saying it wouldn’t work on you?” Ryan turned to look at him, his blue eyes darker than Michael had seen them yet, but it was impossible to tell if he was serious or not.
“Why did you come inside earlier?” Michael asked, rather than answer the question. “I felt like I did something wrong because we were having a good time. Well, I thought we were anyway.” He felt his cheeks color when he shared far more than he planned to, and turned away in embarrassment to hide the blush.
The room fell silent as the song came to an end, and though it was only a few seconds before the next one started, it felt like a lifetime passed. The mattress shifted and he felt Ryan move closer behind him. Cautiously Ryan’s hand moved over Michael’s hip and rested on his stomach, and the younger man could not hide the way his breath caught in his throat.
When Michael didn’t push him away Ryan moved closer and tucked his body behind the younger swimmer’s. His nose brushed the back of Michael’s shoulder before he spoke. “We were having a good time,” Ryan whispered. “I’m hoping I didn’t get you wrong earlier…”
Michael found it hard to breathe with Ryan so close, his breaths shallow and nervous, and he shivered when the older swimmer’s thumb brushed over his hipbone. “You have it right,” Michael whispered back, as if a normal volume would break whatever had happened in the last few minutes. Michael hadn’t understood Ryan’s intentions while they were in the pool, but he did in that moment, however it still didn’t answer his question. “So why did you leave?”
“Cullen is like, my bro. He could tell I was totally into you… but there’s like the house, and he thought I’d fuck it up and we’d lose you for the team,” Ryan’s breath was warm on his neck and made him want to be even closer to the older swimmer.
“What does that mean?” Michael wondered aloud.
“He wants me to drop this-whatever this thing is. He thinks it’s like, an I-wanna-fuck-you-until-you-forget-your-name thing, but I dunno if it is… I mean I don’t even know you, but I want to, you know?” Ryan’s face was tucked against Michael’s neck as he rambled. It was actually kind of cute really.
“So… you want to try dating me?” Michael was nervous even when he asked, still a little confused by what Ryan wanted. “Or be friends with benefits?”
“Yeah, something like that. I think.” Ryan’s reply was muffled by Michael’s skin. “I can’t promise I’m any good at this. I’ll probably fuck it up, and we’ll both have like, blue balls or something before Cullen is convinced that I’m not taking advantage of you or something like that. And PVK and Ricky might think I’m treating you special or whatever, but I’m not like, trying to get you to sleep with me so you’ll get in the house--” It all spilled out of Ryan’s mouth in an awkward jumble of words and semi-formed arguments that both defended and attacked whatever could develop between them.
“Ryan, shhh,” Michael interrupted and laid a gentle hand on the older swimmer’s hip. It was all a bit much to talk about that stuff so soon. “Do we need to worry about all of that right now? Let’s just enjoy it right now, okay?”
“Jeah, Mikey,” Ryan sounded less panicked than before and rubbed his nose against Michael’s shoulder affectionately. “Jeah, let’s just do that. Cul can hold his own cows, or horses, or whatever.”
Michael smiled and closed his eyes, content to just lay with Ryan. The team’s reaction, Cullen’s worries, and even his statistics problem set could be dealt with in the morning.
***
Jon received a text message later that night. He had been almost asleep with his head on Chris’ chest when his phone buzzed on his bedside table, but he reached for it just in case it was important.
2:17am Michael Phelps
Stayed at the house. Help me with stats 2morrow?
Jon smiled sleepily in the soft blue glow of his cell phone screen.
2:18am Jon
Good 4 u MP. I want details in the morning.
“I think they would be hot together,” Chris mumbled and tightened his hold on his boyfriend.
The phone was set aside again and Jon kissed his chest lightly. “I don’t want to hear about how hot you think my roommate is, babe.”
Chris laughed quietly and laid his hand possessively on Jon’s ass. “You know you’re the only one I want, but you can’t fault me for looking.”
“No, I guess not,” Jon yawned and snuggled closer. “But… maybe you’re right… would be hot…” his words trailed off as he fell asleep, heard by only deaf ears as Chris drifted to sleep moments before.