fic: grow a pear
grow a pear
ryan lochte/michael phelps
nc17, 3221 words
warnings for barebacking, raunchy sex, curse words
i - i'm just so sorry. there's no excuse for this crack, NONE AT ALL.
Michael blames Tyler Clary for this because Clary’s a dick.
A dick who fucks with voodoo witches while they’re at a meet in New Orleans. Michael wasn’t even fucking there when Clary decided he wanted to be an asshole, but Michael’s still paying the consequences which is so fucking unfair.
“It’s not that bad,” Conor says and who the fuck said he was allowed to have an opinion on this matter?
Nathan nods. “You have really nice tits,” he says, still somehow looking like a Disney prince.
“Thank you,” Michael replies because as much as he hates to have them he does have some really nice tits. He’s not a DD but he’s somewhere between a B cup and almost a C, and despite never wearing a bra they’re still sort of nice and perky.
“Okay,” Matt says and closes the book he was previously reading. “According to the book the spell should wear off by some time tomorrow.”
“Should?” Michael repeats and Matt nods, pushing his glasses up his nose with his thumb. “I’m not an expert Michael,” he says and throws the book atop of a pile of them Nathan found in an antique shop in the French Quarter.
“If not I’ll drown Clary for you,” Cullen says, ever the gentleman. Cullen’s friends with everyone on the team. Clary will know he’s about to die if Ryan or Matt approach him but he’ll never suspect an attack from Cullen. Not, sweet, fashionable, Cullen who is the only one who hasn’t stared at Michael’s chest. Cullen’s a fucking gentleman, unlike Michael’s shitty boyfriend.
“Stop that!” Michael yells when Ryan’s fingers sneak under his shirt.
“Ryan Steven Lochte,” Matt says in his best dad voice. “Stop trying to touch Michael’s tits.”
Ryan’s fingers slip away. “Dude,” he says, “stop cock blocking me.”
Matt rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He picks up another book and flips through it. “Hey, do you think we could turn Clary into plankton?”
“That’s not very nice,” Nathan says but he’s already crawling across Michael’s bed to lean over Matt and squint at the book.
“I took French,” Conor says. “I could totally figure out what this says.”
“I don’t think these books are written in French,” Nathan says, incredulous. “But…”
“No,” Michael says and snatches the book out of Matt’s hands. “Don’t you three fuck anything else up.”
Conor tries to get the book back. “Mike, it’s revenge!”
“Cullen already said he was going to drown him,” Michael replies, kicking all the books under his bed. “Right Cullen?”
“Right!” Cullen says, a little too happy.
“Fine,” Conor pouts, looking like a kicked puppy. Michael clicks his tongue and sighs, really irritated with himself because he has a soft spot for the boy. Ryan’s basically adopted the fucking kid and refuses to give the Dwyer’s their parental rights back so by default Michael’s kind of adopted him too. “Here,” he says, and hands Conor an innocent looking book. “Just don’t try anything extreme.”
Conor lights up and snatches away the book. “Come on,” he says to Nathan and Matt. Nathan immediately follows after Conor and Matt sighs, slowly getting up.
Michael eyes Matt and says, “I expect you to be the responsible adult here, Matthew.”
“Fine,” Matt whines and then follows after the two younger swimmers.
Cullen hangs around for another hour, just in case Conor and Nathan fuck something else up and Michael gets an extra limb. Ryan is shit in crisis situations, Michael too, so without their friend there’d be a whole of screaming and cursing, much like what happened when Michael was suddenly crippled by searing pain and grew boobs and lost his dick.
(Michael isn’t sure what it says about all of them that after the screaming and initial stages of a panic attack that Michael having boobs and a cunt was oddly fascinating, not mortifying.)
Michael assumes they’re safe from anymore mishaps. By now Conor and Nathan have probably ruined someone else’s life or given up on getting the voodoo to work, so Michael feels safe enough to go to sleep, even with his pervert of a boyfriend hanging around.
“I’m going to take my shirt off,” Michael tells him, “and you’re going to keep your hands to yourself.”
“Phelps I’m a fucking gentleman,” Ryan says but crawls into bed with Michael as Michael takes off his shirt. He eyes Michael’s tits but doesn’t touch them, just settles down next to the wall.
“Nathan was right,” he says, “you do have nice tits.”
“Thanks,” Michael replies, because it’s sort of sweet. Michael’s had three hours to process the fact that he has a set of tits and a pussy and Matt’s not a voodoo expert, so if Michael stays a girl for the rest of forever at least he knows he has nice tits and that Ryan likes them. Maybe he’ll have a somewhat good life before him. His career would be ruined and officially over and he’d have to disappear off the face of the Earth, but at least he’d have nice tits.
“Hey,” Ryan says suddenly, eyes mischievous. “Lemme see it.”
“See what?” Michael asks and tries to cross his arms against his chest but his tits are in the way. Eventually he gets his arms against his chest, his tits resting on top of his wrists.
“You know what,” Ryan says, fingers on the waistband of Michael’s sweats and Michael slams his legs closed and hisses, “no.”
Ryan has the nerve to look offended. “Michael,” he says, “lemme see your pussy.”
“No,” Michael says and tries to push Ryan off the bed with his knees. “It’s my pussy and I don’t want you to see it.”
“Why not?” Ryan whines and tries to wiggle his way between Michael’s legs. Ryan is like a fucking puppy - you kick him off the bed and he just hops back on, more persistent than before. Michael finally just gives in and spread his legs, Ryan settling between them. He reaches up and grabs one of Michael’s boobs and Michael says, “excuse you,” and Ryan says, “what?” like a total tool.
“You can’t just touch my tits when you feel like it you dick,” Michael huffs. It sucks having girl parts, he realizes. Not that girl parts suck, it just sucks to have them because douches like Ryan Lochte think they’re entitled to touch them whenever they want.
Michael has a newfound respect for women.
“Dude I’m your boyfriend,” Ryan says and squeezes and it doesn’t - it doesn’t like hurt, not really but Ryan’s palm is rubbing against Michael’s nipple. Michael twitches and then Ryan opens his hand up and just rolls his palm against Michael’s chest, and when Michael makes an involuntarily noise Ryan grins like a madman.
“Fuck you,” Michael says and bites his lip. His nipples have always been sensitive and Ryan knows that, the son of a bitch. “I’m not -” Michael tries to get out but Ryan’s licking at his neck, “you’re not going to… to see it, son of a bitch!”
Ryan’s mouth is on Michael’s nipple, tongue flicking against the bud. Michael’s hips arch up and he buries his fingers in Ryan’s hair, as short as it is. “Fuck,” Michael breathes, “Ryan… fuck you,” and then Ryan bites down and Michael moans.
Michael can feel his pussy throbbing and he’s pissed at his newfound vagina because if Ryan finds out his sex ego is going to become bigger. Michael shouldn’t be turned on just from Ryan playing dirty and sucking his nipple, damn vagina.
Michael’s hips arch up again when Ryan moves to his other nipple, and he can feel Ryan’s hard dick through the other swimmer’s sweats. Michael gasps and then sobs when Ryan gently twists the nipple he was just torturing. Michael’s hips keep moving on their own, and when Ryan starts to move his hips too they’re dry humping like desperate teenagers.
Ryan’s fingers creep back to Michael’s waistband and Michael lets him work his sweatpants off but won’t let him touch his boxers. Ryan pulls his own shirt off and his sweats too until he’s naked in all his tan glory. Michael suddenly just really wants Ryan’s cock.
He reaches out and wraps his fingers around the thick shaft and Ryan moves, thrusting his cock into Michael’s grip and Ryan says, “fuck, yeah, just like that.”
They’re done with the meet, which was lucky for Clary because if they hadn’t been Michael would have drowned him, or he would have convinced someone else to do it for him if he couldn’t manage to hide his tits. Usually the end of a meet means a whole night of fucking for Michael and Ryan, but now Michael has a vagina which, for the time being, puts a stop to that.
Ryan fucks into his hand some more and then he’s pushing Michael back against the pillows and touching at his thighs, not really at his cunt but his knuckles sometimes run over his lips and Ryan says, “sorry,” and draws his hands away because he isn’t a total douche. Michael said no and Ryan respects that, because he always does, cunt or not.
Ryan pushes his hips down, humping against him, but it’s not enough. Michael literally aches between his legs and he keeps shifting, pussy constantly seizing up and then relaxing like it’s begging for Ryan’s cock.
“Shit,” Michael says, a little bit on the edge of desperate. “Ry, fuck, Ry fuck me.”
Ryan makes a gasping noise against Michael’s ear. “MP I’m gonna have to,” but he doesn’t finish his sentence, fingers back on Michael’s thighs and slowly, slowly working the material of his boxers down.
“It’s ugly,” Michael whines and Ryan pauses to look at him, face confused and sort of looking like he’s trying not to laugh.
“Fuck you,” Michael hisses and tries to get off the bed but Ryan just kind of pins him back down, looks him dead in the eye, and says, “there’s no such thing as an ugly vagina.”
Michael blinks. Ryan says, “Michael Phelps, you do not have an ugly vagina.”
Michael stares because this has become his life.
Ryan smiles and then kisses him. “Just let me see,” he says quietly and Michael nods shakily before he pulls his boxers off. Ryan fingers sneak down and tentatively touch and Michael gasps as Ryan says, “told you so.”
“You haven’t looked at it,” Michael mutters and then chokes on a moan when Ryan’s thumb starts rubbing his clit. Ryan’s thumb feels good, but Michael feels like everything is swollen down there, and overly sensitive, more than how his cock feels when he’s hard. And he’s fucking wet, so fucking wet.
Ryan moves his fingers away and Michael whines at the loss of contact but then Ryan is wiggling down the bed, away from Michael and towards his thighs, and Michael says, “Ryan,” because he knows what Ryan’s thinking.
“Just getting a better look,” Ryan says, grin mischievous, and then Michael’s legs are up on his shoulders and Ryan’s breath is ghosting over his cunt. Michael shudders and sobs when Ryan’s mouth is on him, licking and kissing at him like a dirty French kiss, reminiscent of the way he rims him.
“Ryan,” Michael sobs as Ryan licks over his clit and then trails his tongue down, pushing it in inside when he can and then pulling away to spread Michael open with his thumbs. “Oh god,” Michael gasps and then says it again when Ryan moans against his cunt and gently sucks on his clit.
Michael fingers dig into Ryan’s hair and he arches up, pressing his cunt against Ryan’s face, keeping him there as he rocks against Ryan’s mouth, and then he comes, so sudden that he doesn’t even have time to process it.
Michael just kind of goes boneless after that, his legs dropping off of Ryan’s shoulders. Ryan climbs up him and then kisses him, long and deep. His dick rubs over Michael’s cunt and Michael makes little hitching noises that seem to go straight to Ryan’s cock because Ryan starts to rock his hips.
“You can… you know,” Michael says because Ryan’s already made out with his cunt, why not just let him fuck it.
“You sure?” Ryan asks, breathless.
Michael nods and Ryan pulls back. He jacks his dick a few times and then he hitches Michael’s leg up, getting him in place. Michael just kind of lets his leg stay there until Ryan is pushing in so easy, Michael still so wet and slick, and then he’s in and Michael lets his leg hitch up on Ryan’s hip.
It feels strange, like Ryan’s dick shouldn’t be there. Michael is used to having a cock up his ass, not in his cunt that shouldn’t be there. Ryan starts to move and then it starts to feel less strange. Ryan bottoms out and - oh. Michael gasps and Ryan rocks a little before he pulls out and slams back in and it’s so fucking good.
Ryan pushes Michael’s legs up against his chest, making it easier to go deeper. Michael whines, “too deep,” and Ryan stops moving to kiss at Michael’s jaw and say, “sorry sweetheart, sorry,” pulling out and thrusting back in, not so deep this time.
Ryan moans against his mouth and Michael wraps an arm around his neck, clinging to him. He sneaks a hand between their bodies and starts to rub at his clit, momentarily freaked out by the fact that he has to do that to come again, not jack at his dick, and Ryan’s hips speed up.
“Fuck,” he says, “fuck Mikey baby, so wet, fuck,” and then Ryan slams in and comes, holding himself there. Michael keens, working his finger faster, but it doesn’t seem to be doing anything.
“Don’t you dare,” he breathes out, “don’t you dare leave me like this Lochte.”
“I’ve got you baby,” Ryan says, pulling his dick out only to shove two fingers in. Michael cries out, finger working in tight little circles as Ryan curves his fingers and starts to thrust them in out, hitting something inside Michael that makes Michael’s hips arch up.
“Fuck,” he says, “fuck, fuck, fuck!” And then he comes again, Ryan’s fingers still pumping in and out of him. He sucks in a deep breath and has to wrap his fingers around Ryan’s wrist to make him stop. “I can’t - ” he tries to say but Ryan just kisses him and pulls his fingers out.
Michael’s pussy feels wrecked. It hurts a little, but in a good way. Ryan flops down next to him and says, “dude, I totally just popped your cherry,” and Michael smacks him on the chest.
“You’re a dick,” Michael says and Ryan grins into his skin, one arm around Michael’s waist. “You have a beautiful vagina.”
Michael makes a face and Ryan laughs. “No, trust me,” he continues, “you have a beautiful vagina. I’ve seen a lot of pussy in my life Mike, but none like yours.”
“You’ve been sucking my dick for the past eight years Lochte,” Michael replies hotly. “You better not have seen a lot of pussy.”
“You know how it is Phelps,” Ryan says, settling in. “Girls just drops their panties around me.”
“What if I don’t get my dick back?” Michael asks seriously, eyes on his vagina like it’s its fault that it’s there.
Michael can’t pass for a chick. He didn’t magically grow long luscious hair and he doesn’t have the soft curves that most girls do. It’s still his hard body, just with boobs and a cunt, and even if he wrapped his chest to go out and buy milk there’s no way he could still swim. He couldn’t just pose a as a woman; his face is too recognizable. His career is over.
“Hey,” Ryan says, getting in Michael’s face. “Hey, don’t think like that. You’re going to get your dick back.”
“But what if I don’t?” Michael questions. “Ryan, my fucking career is over.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Ryan says, yawning. “Reezy’s got you. I’m a fucking provider Mike. You can just chill out in the G-Spot while I cash in on your sudden disappearance and all you’ve got to do is make me a sandwich once in a while and suck my dick.”
Michael snorts and rolls his eyes. He’s been thinking about retirement and he wouldn’t mind moving in with Ryan, especially if all he has to do is sometimes make him food and suck his dick, which Michael doesn’t mind the last part and he could always just order takeout when he gets lazy.
It just sucks that the reason he might have to retire is because of his awesome rack, not because he really wants to.
“Go to sleep,” Ryan says and Michael does.
Michael gets his dick back the next morning.
He wakes up to Ryan leaning over him, frowning down at his chest.
“Listen you dick,” Michael says, half awake. “They’re mine and I don’t give a fuck if you’re my boyfriend you can’t just touch them when you want.” When Ryan doesn’t reply Michael adds, “I’m going to tell Matt if you don’t stop.”
“They’re gone,” Ryan says.
“What?”
“Your tits Mike,” Ryan says, frown deepening. “They’re gone.”
Michael’s suddenly awake. He touches his chest all over but can’t find any sign of his boobs, just the regular slight hump of muscle that’s always there. “Oh my god,” he says and shoves his hand under the sheet. When his fingers wrap around his half-hard cock he says, “oh sweet fucking Jesus.”
Ryan’s still frowning. Michael says, “Don’t tell me you’re upset that my tits are gone.”
“They were really nice,” Ryan whines with a pout.
Michael opens and closes his mouth, not sure what to say. He’s fucking grateful that he’s got his dick back, so fucking grateful, but a tiny, tiny part of him kind of misses his cunt. It was just really nice to skip the prep part of sex, but he wouldn’t trade his dick for anything.
Ryan sighs and collapses on top of Michael. “Oh well,” he says, hard dick gliding over Michael’s hip, “I guess I’ll just have to deal.”
“I,” Michael says.
“I missed your dick,” Ryan says, fingers wrapping around it.
Michael just gapes like a fish until Ryan kisses him.
The others aren’t as upset that Michael’s got his usually body back, but Conor’s taken to carrying a fish bowl around that has a little pink fleck of something in it, and no one’s seen Clary since yesterday.
“The fuck,” Michael says when he realizes what the pink fleck is. “You two didn’t -”
“We’re fixing it,” Nathan hisses as he frantically flips through a book.
“Oh my fucking god,” Michael says.
“Listen,” Conor says, jumpy. “We got you your dick back, okay? It was either Clary or your dick and we decided that you needed your dick more than the world needed Clary.”
Michael looks at the pink fleck as it swims around its underwater prison desperately. Michael’s never liked Clary, he doesn’t actually think there’s really a person who does except for his family, but being a plankton must really suck.
But.
Michael’s keeping his dick, morals and Clary be damned.
ryan lochte/michael phelps
nc17, 3221 words
warnings for barebacking, raunchy sex, curse words
i - i'm just so sorry. there's no excuse for this crack, NONE AT ALL.
Michael blames Tyler Clary for this because Clary’s a dick.
A dick who fucks with voodoo witches while they’re at a meet in New Orleans. Michael wasn’t even fucking there when Clary decided he wanted to be an asshole, but Michael’s still paying the consequences which is so fucking unfair.
“It’s not that bad,” Conor says and who the fuck said he was allowed to have an opinion on this matter?
Nathan nods. “You have really nice tits,” he says, still somehow looking like a Disney prince.
“Thank you,” Michael replies because as much as he hates to have them he does have some really nice tits. He’s not a DD but he’s somewhere between a B cup and almost a C, and despite never wearing a bra they’re still sort of nice and perky.
“Okay,” Matt says and closes the book he was previously reading. “According to the book the spell should wear off by some time tomorrow.”
“Should?” Michael repeats and Matt nods, pushing his glasses up his nose with his thumb. “I’m not an expert Michael,” he says and throws the book atop of a pile of them Nathan found in an antique shop in the French Quarter.
“If not I’ll drown Clary for you,” Cullen says, ever the gentleman. Cullen’s friends with everyone on the team. Clary will know he’s about to die if Ryan or Matt approach him but he’ll never suspect an attack from Cullen. Not, sweet, fashionable, Cullen who is the only one who hasn’t stared at Michael’s chest. Cullen’s a fucking gentleman, unlike Michael’s shitty boyfriend.
“Stop that!” Michael yells when Ryan’s fingers sneak under his shirt.
“Ryan Steven Lochte,” Matt says in his best dad voice. “Stop trying to touch Michael’s tits.”
Ryan’s fingers slip away. “Dude,” he says, “stop cock blocking me.”
Matt rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He picks up another book and flips through it. “Hey, do you think we could turn Clary into plankton?”
“That’s not very nice,” Nathan says but he’s already crawling across Michael’s bed to lean over Matt and squint at the book.
“I took French,” Conor says. “I could totally figure out what this says.”
“I don’t think these books are written in French,” Nathan says, incredulous. “But…”
“No,” Michael says and snatches the book out of Matt’s hands. “Don’t you three fuck anything else up.”
Conor tries to get the book back. “Mike, it’s revenge!”
“Cullen already said he was going to drown him,” Michael replies, kicking all the books under his bed. “Right Cullen?”
“Right!” Cullen says, a little too happy.
“Fine,” Conor pouts, looking like a kicked puppy. Michael clicks his tongue and sighs, really irritated with himself because he has a soft spot for the boy. Ryan’s basically adopted the fucking kid and refuses to give the Dwyer’s their parental rights back so by default Michael’s kind of adopted him too. “Here,” he says, and hands Conor an innocent looking book. “Just don’t try anything extreme.”
Conor lights up and snatches away the book. “Come on,” he says to Nathan and Matt. Nathan immediately follows after Conor and Matt sighs, slowly getting up.
Michael eyes Matt and says, “I expect you to be the responsible adult here, Matthew.”
“Fine,” Matt whines and then follows after the two younger swimmers.
Cullen hangs around for another hour, just in case Conor and Nathan fuck something else up and Michael gets an extra limb. Ryan is shit in crisis situations, Michael too, so without their friend there’d be a whole of screaming and cursing, much like what happened when Michael was suddenly crippled by searing pain and grew boobs and lost his dick.
(Michael isn’t sure what it says about all of them that after the screaming and initial stages of a panic attack that Michael having boobs and a cunt was oddly fascinating, not mortifying.)
Michael assumes they’re safe from anymore mishaps. By now Conor and Nathan have probably ruined someone else’s life or given up on getting the voodoo to work, so Michael feels safe enough to go to sleep, even with his pervert of a boyfriend hanging around.
“I’m going to take my shirt off,” Michael tells him, “and you’re going to keep your hands to yourself.”
“Phelps I’m a fucking gentleman,” Ryan says but crawls into bed with Michael as Michael takes off his shirt. He eyes Michael’s tits but doesn’t touch them, just settles down next to the wall.
“Nathan was right,” he says, “you do have nice tits.”
“Thanks,” Michael replies, because it’s sort of sweet. Michael’s had three hours to process the fact that he has a set of tits and a pussy and Matt’s not a voodoo expert, so if Michael stays a girl for the rest of forever at least he knows he has nice tits and that Ryan likes them. Maybe he’ll have a somewhat good life before him. His career would be ruined and officially over and he’d have to disappear off the face of the Earth, but at least he’d have nice tits.
“Hey,” Ryan says suddenly, eyes mischievous. “Lemme see it.”
“See what?” Michael asks and tries to cross his arms against his chest but his tits are in the way. Eventually he gets his arms against his chest, his tits resting on top of his wrists.
“You know what,” Ryan says, fingers on the waistband of Michael’s sweats and Michael slams his legs closed and hisses, “no.”
Ryan has the nerve to look offended. “Michael,” he says, “lemme see your pussy.”
“No,” Michael says and tries to push Ryan off the bed with his knees. “It’s my pussy and I don’t want you to see it.”
“Why not?” Ryan whines and tries to wiggle his way between Michael’s legs. Ryan is like a fucking puppy - you kick him off the bed and he just hops back on, more persistent than before. Michael finally just gives in and spread his legs, Ryan settling between them. He reaches up and grabs one of Michael’s boobs and Michael says, “excuse you,” and Ryan says, “what?” like a total tool.
“You can’t just touch my tits when you feel like it you dick,” Michael huffs. It sucks having girl parts, he realizes. Not that girl parts suck, it just sucks to have them because douches like Ryan Lochte think they’re entitled to touch them whenever they want.
Michael has a newfound respect for women.
“Dude I’m your boyfriend,” Ryan says and squeezes and it doesn’t - it doesn’t like hurt, not really but Ryan’s palm is rubbing against Michael’s nipple. Michael twitches and then Ryan opens his hand up and just rolls his palm against Michael’s chest, and when Michael makes an involuntarily noise Ryan grins like a madman.
“Fuck you,” Michael says and bites his lip. His nipples have always been sensitive and Ryan knows that, the son of a bitch. “I’m not -” Michael tries to get out but Ryan’s licking at his neck, “you’re not going to… to see it, son of a bitch!”
Ryan’s mouth is on Michael’s nipple, tongue flicking against the bud. Michael’s hips arch up and he buries his fingers in Ryan’s hair, as short as it is. “Fuck,” Michael breathes, “Ryan… fuck you,” and then Ryan bites down and Michael moans.
Michael can feel his pussy throbbing and he’s pissed at his newfound vagina because if Ryan finds out his sex ego is going to become bigger. Michael shouldn’t be turned on just from Ryan playing dirty and sucking his nipple, damn vagina.
Michael’s hips arch up again when Ryan moves to his other nipple, and he can feel Ryan’s hard dick through the other swimmer’s sweats. Michael gasps and then sobs when Ryan gently twists the nipple he was just torturing. Michael’s hips keep moving on their own, and when Ryan starts to move his hips too they’re dry humping like desperate teenagers.
Ryan’s fingers creep back to Michael’s waistband and Michael lets him work his sweatpants off but won’t let him touch his boxers. Ryan pulls his own shirt off and his sweats too until he’s naked in all his tan glory. Michael suddenly just really wants Ryan’s cock.
He reaches out and wraps his fingers around the thick shaft and Ryan moves, thrusting his cock into Michael’s grip and Ryan says, “fuck, yeah, just like that.”
They’re done with the meet, which was lucky for Clary because if they hadn’t been Michael would have drowned him, or he would have convinced someone else to do it for him if he couldn’t manage to hide his tits. Usually the end of a meet means a whole night of fucking for Michael and Ryan, but now Michael has a vagina which, for the time being, puts a stop to that.
Ryan fucks into his hand some more and then he’s pushing Michael back against the pillows and touching at his thighs, not really at his cunt but his knuckles sometimes run over his lips and Ryan says, “sorry,” and draws his hands away because he isn’t a total douche. Michael said no and Ryan respects that, because he always does, cunt or not.
Ryan pushes his hips down, humping against him, but it’s not enough. Michael literally aches between his legs and he keeps shifting, pussy constantly seizing up and then relaxing like it’s begging for Ryan’s cock.
“Shit,” Michael says, a little bit on the edge of desperate. “Ry, fuck, Ry fuck me.”
Ryan makes a gasping noise against Michael’s ear. “MP I’m gonna have to,” but he doesn’t finish his sentence, fingers back on Michael’s thighs and slowly, slowly working the material of his boxers down.
“It’s ugly,” Michael whines and Ryan pauses to look at him, face confused and sort of looking like he’s trying not to laugh.
“Fuck you,” Michael hisses and tries to get off the bed but Ryan just kind of pins him back down, looks him dead in the eye, and says, “there’s no such thing as an ugly vagina.”
Michael blinks. Ryan says, “Michael Phelps, you do not have an ugly vagina.”
Michael stares because this has become his life.
Ryan smiles and then kisses him. “Just let me see,” he says quietly and Michael nods shakily before he pulls his boxers off. Ryan fingers sneak down and tentatively touch and Michael gasps as Ryan says, “told you so.”
“You haven’t looked at it,” Michael mutters and then chokes on a moan when Ryan’s thumb starts rubbing his clit. Ryan’s thumb feels good, but Michael feels like everything is swollen down there, and overly sensitive, more than how his cock feels when he’s hard. And he’s fucking wet, so fucking wet.
Ryan moves his fingers away and Michael whines at the loss of contact but then Ryan is wiggling down the bed, away from Michael and towards his thighs, and Michael says, “Ryan,” because he knows what Ryan’s thinking.
“Just getting a better look,” Ryan says, grin mischievous, and then Michael’s legs are up on his shoulders and Ryan’s breath is ghosting over his cunt. Michael shudders and sobs when Ryan’s mouth is on him, licking and kissing at him like a dirty French kiss, reminiscent of the way he rims him.
“Ryan,” Michael sobs as Ryan licks over his clit and then trails his tongue down, pushing it in inside when he can and then pulling away to spread Michael open with his thumbs. “Oh god,” Michael gasps and then says it again when Ryan moans against his cunt and gently sucks on his clit.
Michael fingers dig into Ryan’s hair and he arches up, pressing his cunt against Ryan’s face, keeping him there as he rocks against Ryan’s mouth, and then he comes, so sudden that he doesn’t even have time to process it.
Michael just kind of goes boneless after that, his legs dropping off of Ryan’s shoulders. Ryan climbs up him and then kisses him, long and deep. His dick rubs over Michael’s cunt and Michael makes little hitching noises that seem to go straight to Ryan’s cock because Ryan starts to rock his hips.
“You can… you know,” Michael says because Ryan’s already made out with his cunt, why not just let him fuck it.
“You sure?” Ryan asks, breathless.
Michael nods and Ryan pulls back. He jacks his dick a few times and then he hitches Michael’s leg up, getting him in place. Michael just kind of lets his leg stay there until Ryan is pushing in so easy, Michael still so wet and slick, and then he’s in and Michael lets his leg hitch up on Ryan’s hip.
It feels strange, like Ryan’s dick shouldn’t be there. Michael is used to having a cock up his ass, not in his cunt that shouldn’t be there. Ryan starts to move and then it starts to feel less strange. Ryan bottoms out and - oh. Michael gasps and Ryan rocks a little before he pulls out and slams back in and it’s so fucking good.
Ryan pushes Michael’s legs up against his chest, making it easier to go deeper. Michael whines, “too deep,” and Ryan stops moving to kiss at Michael’s jaw and say, “sorry sweetheart, sorry,” pulling out and thrusting back in, not so deep this time.
Ryan moans against his mouth and Michael wraps an arm around his neck, clinging to him. He sneaks a hand between their bodies and starts to rub at his clit, momentarily freaked out by the fact that he has to do that to come again, not jack at his dick, and Ryan’s hips speed up.
“Fuck,” he says, “fuck Mikey baby, so wet, fuck,” and then Ryan slams in and comes, holding himself there. Michael keens, working his finger faster, but it doesn’t seem to be doing anything.
“Don’t you dare,” he breathes out, “don’t you dare leave me like this Lochte.”
“I’ve got you baby,” Ryan says, pulling his dick out only to shove two fingers in. Michael cries out, finger working in tight little circles as Ryan curves his fingers and starts to thrust them in out, hitting something inside Michael that makes Michael’s hips arch up.
“Fuck,” he says, “fuck, fuck, fuck!” And then he comes again, Ryan’s fingers still pumping in and out of him. He sucks in a deep breath and has to wrap his fingers around Ryan’s wrist to make him stop. “I can’t - ” he tries to say but Ryan just kisses him and pulls his fingers out.
Michael’s pussy feels wrecked. It hurts a little, but in a good way. Ryan flops down next to him and says, “dude, I totally just popped your cherry,” and Michael smacks him on the chest.
“You’re a dick,” Michael says and Ryan grins into his skin, one arm around Michael’s waist. “You have a beautiful vagina.”
Michael makes a face and Ryan laughs. “No, trust me,” he continues, “you have a beautiful vagina. I’ve seen a lot of pussy in my life Mike, but none like yours.”
“You’ve been sucking my dick for the past eight years Lochte,” Michael replies hotly. “You better not have seen a lot of pussy.”
“You know how it is Phelps,” Ryan says, settling in. “Girls just drops their panties around me.”
“What if I don’t get my dick back?” Michael asks seriously, eyes on his vagina like it’s its fault that it’s there.
Michael can’t pass for a chick. He didn’t magically grow long luscious hair and he doesn’t have the soft curves that most girls do. It’s still his hard body, just with boobs and a cunt, and even if he wrapped his chest to go out and buy milk there’s no way he could still swim. He couldn’t just pose a as a woman; his face is too recognizable. His career is over.
“Hey,” Ryan says, getting in Michael’s face. “Hey, don’t think like that. You’re going to get your dick back.”
“But what if I don’t?” Michael questions. “Ryan, my fucking career is over.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Ryan says, yawning. “Reezy’s got you. I’m a fucking provider Mike. You can just chill out in the G-Spot while I cash in on your sudden disappearance and all you’ve got to do is make me a sandwich once in a while and suck my dick.”
Michael snorts and rolls his eyes. He’s been thinking about retirement and he wouldn’t mind moving in with Ryan, especially if all he has to do is sometimes make him food and suck his dick, which Michael doesn’t mind the last part and he could always just order takeout when he gets lazy.
It just sucks that the reason he might have to retire is because of his awesome rack, not because he really wants to.
“Go to sleep,” Ryan says and Michael does.
Michael gets his dick back the next morning.
He wakes up to Ryan leaning over him, frowning down at his chest.
“Listen you dick,” Michael says, half awake. “They’re mine and I don’t give a fuck if you’re my boyfriend you can’t just touch them when you want.” When Ryan doesn’t reply Michael adds, “I’m going to tell Matt if you don’t stop.”
“They’re gone,” Ryan says.
“What?”
“Your tits Mike,” Ryan says, frown deepening. “They’re gone.”
Michael’s suddenly awake. He touches his chest all over but can’t find any sign of his boobs, just the regular slight hump of muscle that’s always there. “Oh my god,” he says and shoves his hand under the sheet. When his fingers wrap around his half-hard cock he says, “oh sweet fucking Jesus.”
Ryan’s still frowning. Michael says, “Don’t tell me you’re upset that my tits are gone.”
“They were really nice,” Ryan whines with a pout.
Michael opens and closes his mouth, not sure what to say. He’s fucking grateful that he’s got his dick back, so fucking grateful, but a tiny, tiny part of him kind of misses his cunt. It was just really nice to skip the prep part of sex, but he wouldn’t trade his dick for anything.
Ryan sighs and collapses on top of Michael. “Oh well,” he says, hard dick gliding over Michael’s hip, “I guess I’ll just have to deal.”
“I,” Michael says.
“I missed your dick,” Ryan says, fingers wrapping around it.
Michael just gapes like a fish until Ryan kisses him.
The others aren’t as upset that Michael’s got his usually body back, but Conor’s taken to carrying a fish bowl around that has a little pink fleck of something in it, and no one’s seen Clary since yesterday.
“The fuck,” Michael says when he realizes what the pink fleck is. “You two didn’t -”
“We’re fixing it,” Nathan hisses as he frantically flips through a book.
“Oh my fucking god,” Michael says.
“Listen,” Conor says, jumpy. “We got you your dick back, okay? It was either Clary or your dick and we decided that you needed your dick more than the world needed Clary.”
Michael looks at the pink fleck as it swims around its underwater prison desperately. Michael’s never liked Clary, he doesn’t actually think there’s really a person who does except for his family, but being a plankton must really suck.
But.
Michael’s keeping his dick, morals and Clary be damned.