by Sean Michael
Mike nodded, rubbed the tip of his nose for the eightieth time. The kid looked like Rudolph. “Yep. The wall. I'm in the seventh lane. I don't like the seventh lane."
"Baby, the wall is the same no matter which lane you're in."
"I know. I know.” Mike nodded. “Is it time yet?"
He chuckled. Mike was like a kid asking if they were there yet every two minutes. “Relax. It'll be—” He was interrupted by the announcer calling the race over the PA system. “Yeah, baby, it's time."
"Cool.” Those dark eyes met his. “I'll do my best."
"That's all I ask, baby.” It was all he ever asked, but it was what he expected, too. Nothing but Mike's best.
Mike handed Jessy headphones and jacket, putting on his cap and padding over, looking good. Strong. Lean.
He didn't think Mike would medal; they took fifth in the 200. Hopefully they'd do as well here. He managed not to pace, but his hands were balled into fists.
This was the hardest part.
The watching. The waiting. The not being able to do a damned thing but throw all his support mentally to his swimmer.
Mike arched into the water, getting good time off the starting block, looking fine. Looking focused.
Jessy nodded, grinning as Mike hit the wall and turned, less than a second off the front runners. The longer they raced, the faster Mike would get, as long as all his swimmer focused on was that wall.
"Come on, baby. Come on."
Mike struggled through the first fifty, just like before. Mike needed that first fifty to focus, still, but then. Damn. Look at his boy go.
After the second turn he changed his mind. Mike was going to do better than fifth. His swimmer might even medal on this one. Christ. “Go, Mike!"
Mike was still in fourth at the third turn, trailing one of the USC boys by half a body length. Mike came off the wall like a man possessed, pouring all he was into the last fifty, eating up the yards. Sure enough, Mike had enough speed and enough room, moving up, making up the distance.
Jessy roared as loud as anyone as Mike's hand touched the wall a moment before the fourth place swimmer.
Bronze.
At his first Open.
Fucking sweet.
Mike's eyes were wide, huge, face as red as a beet.
Jeff was hooting beside him. “Hell, yes. That's the way. Jessy, that boy ever swims a decent first fifty, nothing'll stop him."
"Give him a year, Jeff.” He grinned over and then looked back at Mike, all his attention on his swimmer.
Mike's eyes met his, all lit up, shining. “Personal best!"
He chuckled, nodded. Yeah. Personal fucking best.
Mike pulled himself out of the pool, sneezing twice as he did, that smile not fading a bit.
Jessy watched the other swimmers congratulating his boy, gave them a few minutes, but then he was striding in to give Mike a big hug. “You did it! Bronze. At your first Open. Good for you."
"Yeah? You're happy?” Mike grinned at him. “I did good?"
He laughed. “What do you think?"
"I think so.” Mike laughed. “Pizza for me!"
He nodded, grinning wide. “As much as you can eat."
"Cool.” Mike was bouncing, just absolutely floating.
He backed away a bit, giving the UT kids and other swimmers room to congratulate Mike, letting his baby bask.
Jeff came back up to him, grinning. “When are you both going back? I thought I'd take all the team out. Let UT spoil them rotten."
"You can ask him, but I did promise him a pizza if he won."
Jeff nodded, headed over to talk to Mike, the guys. Mike's head shook, his swimmer chuckling and pointing over at him. He gave Jeff a grin and smiled at Mike. The kid had a good head on his shoulders, knew what was important, knew he didn't have to turn a celebration into throwing up.
Jeff shook his head, patted Mike's shoulder, then frowned. “Your swimmer's running a fever, Jessy."
"Just need some dayquil, Coach."
"Chicken soup and a hot shower. He claims he gets sick every winter.” Jessy was going to break that cycle.
Jeff nodded. “His aunt told me that. Said as soon as the season was up and the pressure was off? Pneumonia city. Happens with a lot of them."
Jessy nodded. “Doesn't have to, though."
Mike chuckled, nose wrinkling. “Come on, Coach. You owe me a pizza."
"I do. You earned it.” He nodded to Jeff and the UT team. “Good job out there today, boys. Mike wasn't the only one who swam personal bests."
A number of hands raised, pinkie and index fingers raised. “Hook ‘Em Horns!"
Chuckling, he returned the symbol and then put his hand on Mike's back. “Come on. The pizza's getting cold."
"That's for breakfast.” Mike grinned as the rest of the guys nodded and laughed, everyone heading to leave or change.
He waited for Mike to change. “You want to go to a pizza place or have it delivered?"
Mike sneezed again. “Can I have a Dr. Pepper either way?"
He laughed. “No."
"Then delivered, I guess.” Mike grinned. “Pizza places are overrated."
He leaned past Mike to open the door. “Well you can't fuck in them,” he murmured.
Mike blushed, grinned. “No. No you can't."
He chuckled. “I know what you want."
Those dark eyes danced over at him. “Yeah?"
"Oh, yeah, baby."
He got a grin, a low chuckle. “Come feed me."
"To start with.” He winked and headed for the elevators.
Mark followed, sneezing a couple times, sniffling.
"Gotta do something about that cold, baby. You're not keeping it."
"'kay.” Mike nodded, agreeing, not even really listening to him.
He took that chin and looked into those dark eyes. “You're not getting sick, baby. It's not on the agenda."
Mike blinked up. “You can't just wish a cold away."
"Why not?"
"Well ... Uh ... ‘Cause germs don't care?"
"Your body does, though. You own it. You keep it healthy. Will-power isn't everything, baby, but it's something."
"Do you think I do it on purpose?” Mike almost looked hurt. “I don't like being sick every Christmas, you know."
"Oh, baby, I'm not saying you do, but you've come to expect it now. It's Christmas, it's time to be sick. And, hey, if you're sick, you won't have to pay attention to the fact it's the anniversary of your parents’ death."
Shocked eyes met his, eyebrows drawing into a frown. “I ... It's not about that."
"No?” He let Mike into their room. “Maybe not consciously."
"I'm going to take a shower, get cleaned up."
"Not talking about it won't make it just go away, baby."
"There's nothing to talk about. They died. I didn't.” Mike headed for the bathroom, arms around his belly.
He sighed. Christ, this was not how he wanted to celebrate Mike's victory. He put off ordering the pizza and followed Mike into the bathroom. The music was playing, Mike stripped bare, standing under a hard, hot spray.
Jessy stripped himself and turned the music down, but not off, letting Mike know that he was there and that they were going to talk. Mike sighed once, but didn't turn him away, didn't say anything. It made him proud, that Mike let him in, even for this.
He wrapped Mike in his arms, letting the water sluice over them both. Mike leaned back into his arms, just like that. He held on, hands stroking, offering comfort and love. Mike's tension faded completely, eyes closing, breath coming slow and steady. He picked up the soap and started to wash Mike, making it a pseudo massage.
"Mmm ... I got a medal, Coach. At a big meet."
"Yeah, baby. And you swam a whole lot of personal bests. I am damned proud of you."
"Thank you. We're good together."
He purred, rubbing his cock along Mike's. “We sure are."
Mike nodded, stepped closer.
"Oh, yeah.” He ru
bbed them together some more.
Mike's cheek came to rest on his shoulder, lips on his throat. Moaning, he slid his hands over Mike's back, down to the kid's perfect ass so he could pull them still closer together.
"Mmm...” Mike's face lifted for a kiss.
Humming, he gave it freely, licking his way into Mike's mouth.
"Oh...” Mike arched, pushing closer, skin hot and slick against him.
"So sexy, baby.” Jessy pushed Mike up against the tiles, mouth sliding over his face, his neck.
"I ... I need, Jess. Please."
"I know, baby. I know what you need.” He licked the length of Mike's collarbone, sucking in the water that collected there.
"A ... always. Always.” Mike's fingers slid around his head, held him.
He groaned, pushing against Mike, sliding them together in a hard, urgent rhythm.
"Oh, Jess. I.” Mike's moans filled the air, needy, low.
He hummed and kept licking, nibbling while his thumbs searched out Mike's nipples, pressing against them, nails scraping along them.
Mike nodded, hips thrusting, rocking. “Yes."
He did it again, this time twisting Mike's nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. Those dark eyes went wide, Mike jerking, come splashing between them.
He purred. “Oh, baby, I love the way you need me."
"W ... with all I am."
He nodded, rubbing against Mike's belly. “Want you with all I am, too."
"Anything.” Mike kissed him, eyes warm.
"Everything, baby.” He wanted it all.
Mike nodded, hand wrapping around his cock, pumping. “All of me."
"Yeah, baby.” He put his hands on Mike's shoulders, pushing his lover down onto his knees.
Mike slid down, lips parted, open, hungry for him. “I love you."
"I love you, baby.” He groaned. Oh, yeah, felt so good.
Mike swallowed him down, taking him easily, eagerly. His moans filled the air. Those dark eyes stared up at him, loving him. Mike's tongue dragged over his cock, lips pulling. He stroked Mike's cheek, purring, hips starting to move.
Mike opened, head bobbing, eyes fastened to his. So lovely, so damned good. Groaning, he moved faster. Mike's hands wrapped around his hips, encouraging, pulling him in deeper and deeper. He just went with it, trusting that Mike could take it, could take him.
It was so damned good, with the water falling on him, Mike's mouth hot around his cock, and it wasn't long at all before he was shouting, calling out Mike's name as he shot. Mike drank him down, moaning around his cock.
"Mmm ... so good, baby."
Mike's hot cheek leaned against his belly.
"Come on, baby. Let's go to bed."
"Nap and then pizza?"
"Nap and then pizza.” And some gentle probing of Mike's psyche if the opportunity presented itself.
"Okay.” Mike nodded, stood and turned off the water. “Sounds great."
He wrapped Mike in a towel, taking his time drying his lover off. “How're you feeling, baby?"
"Okay. Tired, a little.” Mike returned the favor, kissing his skin, his lips.
He hummed, licking Mike's lips, kissing the warmer than usual skin. They slowly moved toward the bed, stretching together, Mike close, snuggly. He got Mike settled and curled around the lean body, stroking the smooth skin.
"Mmm...” Mike's hands slid over his skin, stroking, petting.
"You're hot, baby,” he murmured, broaching the subject cautiously.
"Am I?” Mike kissed his shoulder, eyelashes tickling his skin.
He chuckled, wiggling a little. “Yeah, baby. You are."
Mike grinned, licked. “Cool."
"I meant feverish, baby.” Not that Mike wasn't also sexy hot, but his swimmer had a fever. “I'm going to get you some Tylenol."
"I thought I wasn't allowed to be sick.” Mike gave him a wink.
"You aren't. And dealing with this fever is the first step to making you not sick."
"Oh. Okay.” He got one of those looks that meant Mike was going along because he was Coach, not because he made sense.
Chuckling, he got the Tylenol and handed it over to Mike along with a glass of water. Then he sat on the bed, next to Mike. “You want to talk about it?” he asked quietly.
"Talk about what?” Mike took the pills, finished the water before a warm cheek landed on his thigh.
He stroked Mike's hair. “Your parents,” he said softly. Softly enough that if Mike really wanted to, he could pretend he hadn't heard and Jessy would let it go for today.
"I ... They were good people, Jessy. They loved me."
"I know, baby. And then they left you."
Mike nodded. “No one knows what happened, exactly. They were on vacation with the girl Pop coached."
He nodded. “And there was a boating accident."
It was amazing, really, how much Mike still loved the water despite the fact that it more or less took away his parents.
"Yeah. They didn't find my mom for a few days, but Pop and Ronnie—Veronica—they found them right off.” Mike sighed. “I had been at my Granny's, getting ready for Christmas. We kept hoping they'd find Mom, swimming away."
He squeezed Mike's shoulder and stroked the short hair. “I'm sorry, baby."
"It's okay. I did okay.” Mike closed his eyes, cheeks red as he fought back tears.
"Did you grieve, baby? Or did you hide it all inside and throw yourself into the swimming?"
"I stayed with Granny until school started, then Aunt Kathy took me. I never even saw our house again. They sold it."
"Were you ever asked what you wanted? How you felt?"
Mike laughed softly. “You haven't met Aunt Kathy yet, have you?"
"A force of nature, is she?” He stroked Mike's cheeks, fingers drying the few tears that had been allowed to slip through. “You can't just pretend it didn't happen or that it didn't affect you, baby."
"I don't. It was a long time ago. I ... I was lonely for a long time, but it got better."
"When did it start getting better?” He figured if they just kept talking about it, eventually Mike might spill the reason why he was getting sick every Christmas, year in and year out.
"Hmm ... I guess when I got into high school. There was a swim team there and at the club, so I swam for both of them. All fall, all spring."
He chuckled. “It's always about the water, isn't it."
Mike nodded. “I hated winter break. Aunt Kathy had her kids there; the pools were closed and it was so loud."
He bent and kissed Mike's head. “And it was the anniversary of your folks’ death and your cousins had their parents with them."
"Yeah. Christmases before they died? We went to the beach, just the three of us. It sounds stupid, but that's how they fell in love—during the winter on the beach."
"It sounds romantic and like something you'd miss having, that time for just the three of you."
Mike nodded. “It was neat. We would gather shells Christmas Eve and decorate the tree with them."
"Oh, that sounds like fun. We'll have to do something special to start our own traditions."
Those dark eyes blinked up at him. “You'd want that? With me?"
He frowned. “Why wouldn't I, baby?"
"Well ... because you have family, traditions, a plan. You have a real family."
He chuckled. “Oh, Mike. I show up on Christmas Eve. We go to church. We do presents and the big meal the next day. I go home. It's hardly a big, important tradition. It's more a habit. I want to have a tradition with you, to share the holiday with the most important person in my life."
Mike blushed dark, face hidden against Jessy. “Oh."
He rubbed Mike's shoulders. “If you didn't know that, baby, I obviously haven't been doing a good enough job letting you know."
"No. No, it's not that. I just ... I'm not used to being ... looked at, maybe?"
"You're going to have to get used to it, baby, because not only am I not
going anywhere, but the more medals you win, the more interested people are going to be in you."
"I'm good at being not-noticed, Coach. I just want to swim."
"I know, baby. But I'm never not going to notice you. In the water and out."
"Never?"
"Never, baby.” He bent and kissed Mike softly.
Mike pulled away, just a little. “You might get my cold."
"Somehow I don't think so, baby."
"No?” Mike cuddled in, kissing him again. No, not with the fact that the reason Mike was sick was a depressed immune system stemming from years of routine, not at all. And he was planning on breaking that routine, on making a new one between them.
"I love you, baby."
He got a wide, sweet grin. “I love you, Jess. Honest."
"I don't doubt it, Mike. At all."
He pressed another kiss onto Mike, tasting his lover's mouth. Mike opened wide, rubbing against him, snuggling in. He moaned, hands moving on Mike, just enjoying the sensation of satin skin. So sensual, so eager for sensation, for touch. Sweet, lonely boy.
They were actually a lot alike—both loved the water, swimming was their lives, they were both quiet, loners, alone. Lonely. He pushed Mike back into the pillows, following, need suddenly strong. Mike's hands wrapped around his shoulders, holding on. No. Not alone. Not lonely. Not anymore.
Never again.
He rubbed against Mike, their cocks full, hard and hot, sliding.
"Love you.” Mike leaned up, slammed their lips together. So hungry.
He met Mike's hunger with his own; they were together in this too, in the need shared between them. Mike rubbed beneath him, panting, needing.
"Want you, baby."
"Yours. Take me."
"Yeah, mine.” His fingers moved down to tease at Mike's hole. Mike spread, moaning low, ring of muscles shifting under his touch. He pushed the fingers of his other hand into Mike's mouth. “Get ‘em good and wet, baby."
Mike nodded, sucking hard, making him ache. He moaned, pushing hard against Mike, pulling his fingers out of Mike's mouth with a pop. Mike's head actually lifted up, lips following his fingers.
"Fuck, you're sexy, baby.” He shuddered, Mike making him want so badly.
"I just need you.” Mike drew his legs up and back, making a clear offer.
He just purred, pushing two fingers into Mike, the heat and tightness amazing. Mike moaned, hips sliding, body taking him in. “Oh, baby. Yes.” He groaned, fucking Mike with his fingers, mouth finding a nipple and biting.
