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Last Swim	By : jai Category: Individual Celebrities > Athlete/Sports Misc Views: 8134 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the people written about in this fanfiction. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Aground

January 5, 2005 Ann Arbor, Michigan.

“I don’t want you to go.” Michael burrowed his head in Ian’s chest and slung his leg over Ian’s. Ian had finished packing two hours ago and they'd been cuddled on the couch ever since.

“I don’t want to go either.” Ian tightened his arms, laying a kiss on Michael’s head.

“I’m sorry I’m being such a baby about this.”

“You’re not being a baby. I was the one trying to figure out how to fit you in my suitcase in hour ago.”

Michael chuckled weakly. “I could have fit.”

“But I would have gotten a hernia trying to carry you around.”

“I wish we could have worked things out for Spring Break.”

“Me too, love. But I’ll be in New York and you’ll be in Tokyo, which is actually kind of ironic.”

“Stupid Tokyo, stupid New York. How long now?”

“About an hour.”

“I could quit school, move to Australia and be your pool boy.”

“Oh, that would be nice. You could lounge around nude and really spiff up the place.” Michael looked up at Ian. “What? It’s your turn to be the sensible one.”

Michael sighed. He hated being the sensible one. “Okay, okay. It would be a shocking waste of my talents.” He said, mechanically.

“Oh, I used that one earlier. No fair parroting my words back. ”

“I don’t want to play anymore. I just want to lay here and wallow.”

Ian rubbed Michael’s back. They were both taking this hard but Michael was feeling the additional stress of starting college tomorrow and being left alone in a still strange-to-him city.

Yesterday, they’d both been aware that time was running out and they’d spent the day in the house making love as many times as their bodies allowed before finally collapsing into sleep around 2 am.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the airport?”

“I’m sure. You’d just be letting me off at the departure area anyway and I wouldn’t be able to kiss you goodbye.”

“Stupid airports. Stupid people.”

“Yes, love. I know.”

All too soon, the horn of Ian’s taxi sounded in the driveway. Ian stepped outside, gave the driver his bags and told the man he’d be right back.

Ian closed the door behind him and took Michael in his arms. He could tell Michael was trying to be strong and he didn’t want to prolong the inevitable.

“You’ll call me every Wednesday night, right?” Michael nodded.

“And I’ll call you on Sunday mornings.” Michael nodded again.

“Goodbye, love.”

“Bye, Ian.”

It was a small closed mouth kiss, filled with pain and sorrow. Ian stepped back, grabbed his coat and slipped his sunglasses over his suddenly blinking eyes. With a short nod of his head, he walked out of the door and quickly got into the taxi before he could change his mind.

Unable to watch the taxi disappear, Michael closed the door, walked upstairs, stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed. He could do this. He’d managed to live for nineteen years without Ian, he could manage a few months. He rolled over and pulled Ian’s pillow to him, inhaling the unique scent of his lover's cologne. The bed was suddenly much too big.

Latitude

February 22, 2005 Four Seasons Hotel Tokyo, Japan

Michael entered his hotel suite, let the bellboy do his thing, tipped him, closed the door and flopped into a chair. He’d left Detroit at six am on the twenty first, changed flights in Dallas and had landed in Tokyo at four pm this afternoon.

The plane in Dallas had been delayed which meant that he'd spent the entire flight to Tokyo fretting because he was going to miss his connection to Fukuoka.

As his plane was landing in Tokyo, the pilot announced that an earthquake had struck near Fukuoka and that all non-essential flights into that airport were cancelled until further notice.

The airport had been a madhouse and Michael figured he’d get a hotel room and try to get a hold of Mr. Saito, his contact, in the morning.

He was quite frankly exhausted and after he dialed down for room service, Michael turned the television on and found the English all news channel. The scenes of devastation rolled across the screen and Michael jolted when the reporter’s words finally sunk in.

“. . . An earthquake measuring 6.3, struck at three pm near the Fukuoka Airport and the resulting tsunami has damaged or wiped out many of the structures along Hakata Bay. We’ll have more news as it becomes available. The Tokyo Stock Market . . .”

Oh fuck. Michael was pretty sure that the Marine Messe, the swim facility he was visiting, was near Hakata Bay. God. Had Mr. Saito been there?

Michael pulled out his phone and tried to make a call but realized he’d forgotten to turn it back on after getting off the plane. He pushed the on button and immediately the phone began ringing.

“Hello?”

“Goddammit, Michael! You’d better answer the damn phone and you better be okay or I’m going to come up there and kill you myself.”

“Ian?”

“Michael?”

“Yeah. Hi.”

“Where the hell have you been? Are you okay? God, are you safe?”

“Ian! Wait. Calm down. I’m fine. My plane was delayed in Dallas, we landed late in Tokyo and I never got to Fukuoka. I’m okay, really.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“Then why weren’t you answering the phone, damn it!”

“Uh, I forgot to turn it back on?”

Ian’s response to that went on for several minutes ending with “and you’re never to worry me like that again, do you understand?”

“Yes, Ian. I promise.”

“Good. Now, how long were you supposed to be in Fukuoka?”

“Through the thirtieth. Guess that’s a bust now. God, I need to call Mr. Saito and see if he’s alright.”

“Yes and you need to call your mother. She’s worried sick about you.”

“You called my mom?”

“Your mom called me.”

Michael dropped his head back and tried to pound his brains out on the back of the chair but it was too well upholstered.

“I’ll call you back after I talk to my mom and try to track down Mr. Saito and we’ll discuss how my mother got your phone number.”

“Okay.” Ian sounded almost cheerful at the prospect. “And Michael, I’m really glad you’re all right.”

Michael stared at the now dead phone. Damn that man.

An hour later, Michael put down the phone and ate the last bite of his dinner. His mother was relieved and Mr. Saito, although bruised and shaken up, was fine but very busy trying to track down his loved ones. Michael had wished him well and made a mental note to look into any charitable efforts for the victims of the earthquake.

He took a shower and got into bed, although it was early according to local time, it was close to midnight for Michael. Once he was comfortable, he picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number.

“Thorpe.”

“Phelps.”

“Michael.”

“Ian.”

“You can stop now.”

“Okay.”

“So, tomorrow you’re going to get up and head to the airport. There’s a ticket waiting for you at the Air Pacific counter. Your flight leaves at eight-twenty so you’ll need to be there by seven.”

“Okay, but where am I going?”

“Nadi International Airport. From Nadi, we’ll be taking a helicopter to Wadigi Island.”

“We? I thought you were in New York.”

“I was at the airport when your mom called and told me about the earthquake. There was no way I was getting on a plane until I knew you were okay.”

“But what about your meetings?”

“I spent three hours wondering if you were dead. Do you think some meetings are more important to me than you are?”

Ian could hear the sound of a nose being blown and a throat being cleared. “Damn allergies.”

@@@

Ian sat in the waiting area of the Wadigi Island heliport, flipping through a magazine. He’d arrived after two pm and had been waiting for Michael’s flight to arrive for a couple of hours..

“Ian?”

Ian looked up to see his lover at the door and tossed the magazine aside to stand. Michael dropped his bags and ran over before remembering and coming to dead stop.

Ian closed the gap and took Michael in his arms not caring who saw them. He simply held the other man for several minutes before pulling back a little and resting his forehead against Michael’s.

“Hi. You made it.”

“Yeah and you’re here too.”

“Pardon me, Mr. Thorpe.” Ian and Michael turned in the direction of the voice. “The helicopter is ready, sir.”

Ian reluctantly stepped away from Michael but slid his arm around his lover’s waist. “Michael, this is our host and pilot, Jim Tracy. Jim, this is Michael Phelps.”

Michael shook Jim’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, sir.”

“Shall we, Michael?” Ian waved his hand at the exit.

“Sure.” Michael looked down to pick up his bags and then realized they weren’t there.

“Mr. Phelps, I’ve already loaded your bags.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Jim led them out to the heliport and quickly secured them aboard the helicopter. Within a few minutes they were lifting off and flying over the crystal blue water. Michael had never ridden in a helicopter and was peeled to the window while Ian looked on indulgently.

Ten minutes later, the chopper was landing on the pad of a small island edged by pristine beaches. They disembarked and Jim led them up a short path to the largest building on the island, pointing out the various features along the way.

Jim ushered them in the front door and introduced them to his wife, Janna.

“Welcome to Wadigi, gentlemen. Your suite is right this way. I’m sure you’d both like a chance to freshen up.”

Janna led them down a hall and into a spacious room overlooking the water with the largest bed Michael had ever seen.

“Wow!”

“When you’re ready for dinner, please ring down to the kitchen and it will be served in thirty minutes. Did you still want use the table on pool deck, Mr. Thorpe?”

“That will be fine, Janna. Thank you.”

“Then I’ll leave you to settle in. There’s a map and phone directory on the desk. Please ring if you need anything.”

As soon as the door closed behind her, Michael pounced on Ian, knocking him onto the bed and rained kisses all over Ian’s face.

“Oh, my god, this place is fantastic. You’re a genius!”

“I’m glad you approve, love.” Ian smiled up at Michael, “But was there any doubt?”

Michael sat up and put his hand over his heart. “I, Michael Fredrick Phelps, do solemnly-“

“Michael Fredrick Phelps the third.” Ian added helpfully.

Michael rolled his eyes and started again. “I, Michael Fredrick Phelps the third, do solemnly swear that I will never doubt the genius of Ian James Thorpe.”

“And you will never forget to turn on your phone,” Ian prompted.

“And I will never forget to turn on my phone.” Michael obediently repeated.

“And that you will try your very best to never worry Ian James Thorpe.”

“And I will try my very best to never worry Ian James Thorpe.”

“Because he loves you and you should never worry those who love you.”

“Because he loves me and . . . wait. You love me?” Michael looked deliciously surprised.

Ian nodded. “Yes, I do.”

Michael bent down, kissed Ian and pulled back to whisper, “Can I tell you a secret?”

Ian nodded again.

“I love you too.”

Longitude

February 24, 2005 Wadigi Island, Fiji

One would think that after a couple had made their first mutual declaration of love, they’d be ripping each other’s clothes off and making mad passionate love but such was not the case.

Beraaaaaaaaawouberaaaa.

Ian broke their kiss, lifted his head and looked down at Michael’s stomach. “Love, by chance did you swallow some sort of alien vessel while in Japan?”

Michael pressed a hand flat against his abdomen as his stomach growled again. “I hate airline food.”

Ian eased off Michael and sat down beside him, gently rubbing a finger on Michael’s hipbone and looking concerned. “You’re not sick, are you?”

“No. I just don’t like eating airline food.” Michael’s stomach complained about that fact again, gurgling even louder than before.

Ian, torn between amusement and a healthy dose of frustration reached for the phone and after checking the directions written on the base, dialed a three digit extension.

“Hello, Janna. Would you please let the chef know we’re ready for dinner? Excellent and is there…” Ian looked over at the desk under the window and spotted a fruit basket. “Oh, never mind. Yes, everything is wonderful. Thank you.”

Ian hung the phone up and walked over to the basket and picked out two bananas. He brought them back over to the bed and then jumped back a bit as they were snatched from his hands. Michael rapidly unpeeled one, ate it in two bites and then started on the other.

Ian sat back down on the bed, careful to keep all appendages out of Michael’s way. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Moo oomoo ogga wawah.”

“Come again?”

Michael swallowed and flopped back down on the bed. “You made me forget to eat.”

Ian blinked rapidly and wiped a fake tear away. “Why, Michael Phelps! That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.”

Michael raked his eyes over Ian’s body and stroked his chin. “You know, I’m still hungry and you’re still kind of young so with enough barbeque sauce, I’m sure with a little tenderizer, oof!”

Ian picked up a pillow and whacked Michael in the chest. “’Kind of young? (whack) Take that back.”

Michael rolled around, trying to avoid Ian’s deadly pillow whacking skills. “Okay, okay. You’re as fresh and dewy as a new born baby.”

“Humph! That’s better. I’m only twenty-two. Now, stop lolling about. Let’s get a shower and go find dinner.”

They showered with their normal quick efficiency and Mil tul turned to his suitcase to find something to wear. He’d been packed for winter in Japan so he wasn’t finding much for the hot tropical weather outside.

“What are you looking for?”

“Something to wear.” Michael looked over his shoulder and then did a double take. “That’s what you’re wearing to dinner?”

Ian was dressed in a thin white t-shirt with a long dark blue swatch of silk tied sarong style at his hips. “Sure, I’ve got my suit on underneath.” Ian flipped the material back to show his Speedo. “I figured we’d take a dip after dinner.”

“Don’t they have some kind of dress code?”

“Michael, we’re the only ones here.”

Michael’s jaw dropped. “Just us?”

“Aside from the staff, yes. And they’re very discreet.”

Ian suddenly found himself with an armful of very appreciative naked Michael. “You’ve just shot right over any level of genius known to mankind. Have I told you how much I love you?”

“Um hum.” Ian kissed his lover before pushing him gently way. “Now, put your suit on and I’ll lend you one of my scarves. I’ll lose my boyfriend license if I don’t get some food into you.”

Michael dug out his own Speedo and slipped it on while Ian found a red silk scarf in his bags. Michael tugged a t-shirt over his head and with Ian’s help soon had the scarf securely tied.

“Oh, that feels a little weird.” Michael shimmied his hips a little, letting the silk swirl around his thighs.

“Come on, dinner’s probably ready by now.” Ian opened the door to the veranda and stepped out. As the other man joined him, Ian reached down and took Michael’s hand and said, “We can do this here,” before leading Michael down the stairs.

Smiling happily, Michael swung their hands a little. “How did you find this place?”

“Grant’s cousin came here on her honeymoon a couple of years ago. She really raved about it and I’ve always wanted to check it out for myself. Luckily, this is the tail end of the off season so they didn’t have a booking for the week.”

“Ian, this must be costing you a fortune!”

Ian shrugged. “It’s actually very reasonable. I promised you a beach and our anniversary is coming up.”

“But our anniversary isn’t until August.”

“Yes, but our sixth month anniversary is later this month. Ah-ah.” Ian wagged his finger to forestall Michael’s comment. “Before you start thinking I’m hopelessly romantic, I’m hoping that one day, when I’m old and crabby and I forget your birthday and our anniversary in the same year, you’ll look back on this and not give me too much guff.”

Michael slung his arms around Ian and gave him a tiny sweet kiss. “I’ll always think you’re hopelessly romantic.” A little nibble. “And I’ll never give you a hassle for forgetting my birthday or our anniversary.” A nip to the earlobe. And then Michael’s stomach decided to remind them both of its presence.

Laughing, Ian smacked Michael on the ass and took his hand again. “Come on, before you shish kabob me.”

Around the next corner, they found a large wooden deck perched over a pool that seemed to lead into the horizon. A table, already set with candles and dinnerware, and two chairs were placed to best take advantage of the views.

“I have the best boyfriend in the known universe.” Michael said as he turned around and admired the scenery.

“Pshaw.”

“Pshaw? Did you just say ‘pshaw’?”

“You must have misheard me. Shall we sit?”

A moment after they sat down, a man in a white chef’s uniform appeared with a wine bottle in his hand. “Good evening, Mr. Thorpe, Mr. Phelps. You’ll be starting with-“

The man began to pour when Michael placed his hand over the mouth of his champagne flute. “Oh, sorry. I don’t drink.”

“Ah, yes.” The chef removed to towel from around the bottle to expose a label which was clearly marked ‘Sparkling Cider.’ “Mr. Thorpe was quite explicit about your dietary requirements and we will not be serving alcohol during your stay, except in dishes that allow the alcohol content to cook off.”

“Oh. Thank you. And thank you, Ian.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Phelps. The appetizer is Rice paper rolls of marinated seafood with Japanese salmon skewer on lime & mango sambal. Followed by Pacific oysters with lemon, pickled cucumber, shallot vinegar and whole bread. Your main course this evening is pan fried snapper filets on a summer vegetable parcel with mascarpone, red pepper coulis and micro greens. For dessert, there are marbled chocolate cylinders with Kahlua mousse layered with chocolate brownie. Does that meet with your approval?”

Ian nodded while Michael looked rather bemused.

“I’ll be right back with your first course.” The man disappeared as quickly as he’d arrived.

“Ian, what is some of that stuff?”

“I told them when I booked that we’d like our meals to be a little adventurous but not too bizarre and that they should fix enough for four people.”

Before Michael could reply, their first course was served and they proceeded raze their way through the meal.

Michael pushed away his dessert plate and demurely wiped his mouth.

“Do you think that will hold you for a couple of hours?”

“Like you left anything on your plate?”

Ian surreptitiously tossed his napkin over the plate he’d practically licked clean and sat back. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Their waiter emerged to light the torches stuck about before beginning to clear the table. “Will you be requiring anything else tonight, sirs?”

“No, thank you. Please convey our gratitude to Chef Andre, the meal was delicious.”

“Il bel be pleased to do so. There are snacks in your suite in case you’re hungry later. Enjoy the sunset and please ring if you need anything.” The waiter vanished, leaving them alone.

Ian stood and held out his hand, “Do you want to take a walk on the beach?”

Michael nodded and took Ian’s hand, standing up himself. They walked down to the beach in silence, holding hands and continued to the edge of the surf before Ian turned them towards the left.

After a few hundred feet, they came across a double lounge chair with the thick cushions stuck halfway between the tree line and the water, a line of lit torches around it. A round table sat next to the chair with two fruit juice filled glasses and a small covered basket. Michael could just make out the white clad staff member slipping into the trees.

He turned to Ian who just shrugged. “So I had a little time to kill before you arrived and chatted with Jim.”

Michael smiled at him, knowing that Ian’s idea of a ‘chat’ was a list of detailed instructions with every event of their stay orchestrated.

Ian sat down and patted his lap but Michael had other ideas. He spread Ian’s legs and climbed in between them, turning around and slouching down until he was facing forward with his back resting on Ian’s chest and his head on Ian’s shoulder so they would both have a good view of sky just beginning to turn red.

Ian and Michael enjoyed the spectacle in a comfortable silence, Michael idly playing with Ian’s fingers. As with all tropical sunsets, the show didn’t last long and they were left with a starry sky and the sounds of the surf.

“Michael?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Will you make love to me tonight?”

“You mean…”

“Yes, I need to feel you inside of me.”

Michael twisted around, carefully, and looked into Ian’s eyes. “We’ve never done that before. I’ve never done that before.”

“I know but you don’t mind do you?”

“That’s a silly question. Of course I don’t mind. I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t, because you love me.”

Michael bowed his head and began kissing Ian, running his hands over the other man’s body slowing bringing them both to arousal. He began to remove Ian’s swimsuit when he stopped.

“Ian?”

“Yes, love?”

“I’m thinking that we’re going to need to move this inside.”

“Why?”

“You said this was the tail end of the off season?”

Ian propped himself up on his elbows, looking a little annoyed. “Yeah, so?”

“Would the off season include, oh you know, rain?”

Ian looked up and realized that the stars had disappeared behind a thick covering of clouds and that the wind was starting to pick up.

“Okay, new game plan. You grab the drinks, I’ll grab the basket and we’ll run like hell.”

They both jumped up and began running towards the lights of the house, thankful that the path was well lit. Twenty feet from their veranda, the deluge began and they hit the wooden deck breathing heavily and soaked to the bone.

Michael looked down at the now empty glasses he’d been carrying. Oh well, at least the rain had washed off the juice he’d splattered all over himself.

“Well, that certainly killed the mood.”

Gazing at Ian, Michael observed the air of disappointment surrounding his lover. Michael leaned over, put the glasses down and put his arms around Ian’s waist.

“Actually this is going to be even better.”

“How so?”

“Now we’ll have that nice big bed right underneath of us instead of trying to drag ourselves up here afterwards.”

“We could have just slept on the beach.” Ian let himself pout a little, unwilling to let go of his plan just yet.

“True but this way,” Michael sucked on Ian’s sulky bottom lip for a moment before continuing, “You’ll be that much closer to coffee in the morning.” Michael stepped back and walked through door.

^^^^
Ian lay on his stomach, one leg canted out with a pillow under his hips, his arms underneath of him with his elbows bent as he arched his back trying to bring Michael’s fingers deeper into his anus.

When those long fingers vanished, he moaned and dropped his head onto his arms. “Michael, don’t tease!”

“Hush, baby. I’ll take care of you.” Michael stretched out over him, laying his chest on Ian’s back and guided himself into Ian with one hand, smoothly driving in until his cock was totally engulfed and he could feel Ian’s scrotum gently bumping into his. The sensation was so intense that Michael trembled for a minute and had to rest his damp forehead on Ian’s nape.

He rested one hand on Ian’s hip and extended the other until his hand was entwined with his lover’s, trying to think of anything but where his cock was and who was under him when Ian, impatient with the lack of movement began to rock back into him.

“Ian, stop.”

“Michael, please move damn it.”

Michael stifled a chuckle. That was his Ian, so polite and so bossy all at the same time. Taking a deep breath, Michael began to move his hips back and then forward, changing his angle a little each time and trying to find Ian’s prostate. He knew he’d been successful when Ian cried out and clenched his hand around Michael’s.

Now that Michael knew what he was looking for he was able to hit the spot with every stroke and began to put his back into it. Sliding his hand over Ian’s hip, he pulled a little trying to get the other man to raise up so he could reach Ian’s cock when Ian suddenly pushed up and rose to his knees.

“Oh, please Michael. Harder!”

Michael quickly adjusted to the new position, stroking Ian’s penis and thrusting progressively harder until Ian shouted hoarsely and abruptly began to come, his ejaculate spilling out over the sheets. Michael, feeling the throbbing of Ian’s channel around his cock for the first time, was undone by the sensation and could only hold on as his orgasm tore through him

“Michael?”

“Mmph?”

“You need to move, love.”

“Um. Hang on.” Michael secured the condom before easing out and sliding away from Ian. “You okay?”

Ian nodded and stretched out his arms, rolling his shoulders. “Yes, I’m fine.”

Michael dropped a kiss on Ian’s shoulder and slithered to the edge of the bed. Ian turned his head and watched as Michael semi-waddled into the bathroom, still holding the condom onto his penis. Sniggering at the sight, Ian rolled out of bed and headed into the bathroom himself.

“Why didn’t you just tie it off?”

“Because somewhere there’s a girl named Sara who will always remember me as the guy who smacked her in the face with a used condom as I was attempting to tie it off. I figured I’d spare you that trauma.”

Ian winced. “Oh, that must have hurt.”

“Yeah, she was pretty pissed too.”

“So I take it you didn’t part friends?”

“You could say that.”

They showered and returned to the bedroom, only to find that the bed had been remade with fresh linens.

“Whoa. That’s kind of weird.”

“Yes, but now neither one of us has to sleep in the wet spot.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

They climbed in between the sheets and twined around each other.

“Michael, thank you for tonight.”

“Are you sure I didn’t hurt you? I was kind of rough there at the end.”

“Yes, you were rough but that’s what I needed tonight. It’s a good kind of pain, it means you’re here and not laying in some hospital in Japan or worse.” Ian’s voice shook and he buried his head into Michael’s neck.
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Last Swim