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The Sweet Life	By : jai Category: Individual Celebrities > Athlete/Sports Misc Views: 8241 -:- 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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December 13, 2009 Glenside, PA

Richard Murphy was having a normal Sunday morning. He’d gotten up early and after a simple breakfast, drove up to Arcadia University around nine am to get the pool ready for practice. He knew that he’d be lucky to see six or seven swimmers at a winter weekend practice but he liked the smaller group; it gave him a chance to focus on each swimmer.

By nine thirty, the first club member arrived; it was Gwen Tewksbury, who always arrived first for every practice. She waved on her way to the changing room and was followed by Brent Parker, Keith Yen, Matt Kowalski and Mike Gentry; who always drove up from Chester County together.

Carrie Hughes and Jessica Hayes arrived last and hurried to the changing room with fifteen minutes to spare. The earlier arrivals were already warming up in the heated spa and Richard sat down and started going over his plans for practice.

At precisely ten am, the door swung up and four people entered. Richard squinted and got up, he didn’t recognize any of them from across the pool but it wasn’t unusual to see drop-ins at any practice.

“Oh heaven, look at the hotties that just walked in!” Matt exclaimed as the door closed and it got a little easier to see them. The four men had paused just inside the facility as one of them dug through his bag frantically.

Richard could tell all of them were tall and grinned when the tallest of them put an arm around one of the others. Ah. The chances that these guys were just lost dropped dramatically. He approached them and stopped when he began recognizing them. Any swimmer worth his salt knew those faces and he suddenly wondered if he was still asleep.

“Hello!” Grant Hackett said with a grin as he waved with the hand that was not currently draped around the shoulders of Pieter van den Hoogenband.

Pieter nodded at him and then turned his attention back to the other two men who seemed to be discussing something.

“I’m sure I put it all in here. Did you sneak inside my bag and take it out?”

“Why would I do that Ian? You probably left it on the dining room table.”

Before Ian Thorpe and Michael Phelps could continue, Pieter tapped Ian on his shoulder.

“Ian since when to you use a Team USA bag?”

Looking down, Ian snapped his mouth closed, sheepishly traded bags with Michael and quickly found an envelope. “Oh. Well that wasn’t the least bit embarrassing.” He turned to Richard and smiled charmingly. “Hello, I’m Ian Thorpe and I’m interested in joining your club.”

Richard took the envelope and saw the necessary applications along with a check. “Uh. Hi. I’m Richard Murphy. I guess I don’t have to ask about your swimming history.”

“No but ask him anyway; Ian loves talking about himself.” Grant jibbed and then continued quickly so Ian didn’t have a chance to respond. “I’m Grant Hackett and my short friend here is Doctor Pieter van den Hoogenband.” Grant reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his own envelope to hand to Richard. “That’s our applications and payment.”

Richard took that envelope too as Michael pulled out his wallet and handed over his USA Swimming membership card. “Hi I’m Michael Phelps and I have a copy of that if you need it for insurance purposes. I’ve filled out an application for the club too.”

“Yes, that works. Nice to meet all of you but I’m still in a state of shock.”

“I can only imagine.” Michael said as he pulled out several papers. “There’s a copy of my card in there along with copies of our coaching certifications. Well, mine and Ian’s anyway.”

“When did you guys get those?” Grant asked.

“At Michigan, Bob insisted since we were both volunteering. Is it okay for us to go and change?”

“Oh, sure. It’s down through those doors and-”

“To the right, I know. I go to school here. Come on guys.”

The four men moved off and Richard shook himself before returning to the spa area.

“Are those guys who we think they are?” Gwen asked.

“Yes.”

“I’d heard that Ian and Michael were living in Philadelphia but what about Hackett and the Dutch guy?” Brent asked.

“They filled out applications so maybe they’re staying in town for a while and need a place to swim. Guys, enough conversation; it’s time to get in the pool.” Richard said, not wanting to waste any of their time.

Aside from a few appreciative looks when the new club members came out on the deck, the swimmers settled down and got down to business as they stretched. Richard figured that the four men didn’t need his guidance and that was soon confirmed when they all started swimming their own routines.

Grant and Pieter got out after an hour or so and sat out the rest of the practice in the spa, both looking a bit tired. Ian also got out ten minutes later and stood on the deck watching Michael with a professional eye.

Richard observed for a moment and came over. “I saw the coverage of the US Open last weekend; you’re coaching him now if I remember correctly.”

Ian nodded. “Officially yes but he’s actually doing most of it on his own. He’s almost back in his form too.”

Raising an eyebrow, Richard couldn’t help but comment. “He won all three of his events in Dallas and he’s not in his form?”

“No, he took eight months off after Beijing and then was out of the pool for two weeks at the end of summer for our wedding. He doesn’t have another meet for several months so he’ll probably maintain here. Speaking of meets, do you have a calendar of any upcoming events in the next few months? I’m considering competing at the Gay Games in Paris next summer and I’d like to get to a couple of meets before then.”

Richard closed his mouth and nodded, taking out his schedule. “There’s a short course meet in Virginia next month, the Tropical Spash, then there’s the Winter Classic at Villanova in February. I can get you a copy of the rest of the schedule.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“If you do want to compete in Paris, you’ll probably want to register before the end of the year; the swimming events fill up fast and you don’t want to be wait-listed.”

“Thank you for the tip.”

Michael pulled himself out of the pool, the last swimmer to finish and headed to the spa, falling in beside him.

“Ian, you should have gotten into the spa. You’ll hurt something if you stand around wet like that.” Michael fussed as Brent, Carrie and Keith made room for them.

“I’ll be fine. It’s actually rather warm in here for once.” He extended his hand and introduced himself to the others. “Hi, I’m Ian and this is my spouse, Michael.”

The others all introduced themselves and everyone sat back, enjoying the warm water.

“Do you guys live in the area?” Brent ventured after a few minutes of trying to figure out a good conversational gambit that wasn’t too nosy.

“We’re in Chestnut Hill but I’m going to school here for my doctor of physical therapy degree. Ian’s down at Wharton.”

“Keith and I live in Media. Carrie, are you still downtown?”

“Yes Brent.” Carrie said with a roll of her eyes. “Jess and I haven’t given up and moved to the suburbs yet. Gwen lives in Chestnut Hill I think, somewhere near the Cricket Club.”

“Matt and Mike are the other Sunday morning regu. M. Matt’s in West Chester and Mike’s in Ardmore so we all drive up together. We usually either go to Fresh Fields in Jenkintown or the buffet at the Walnut Inn; would you guys like to join us there?” Keith asked.

“We’ll have to check with Pieter and Grant but if there’s a buffet, I know what Michael’s answer is.”

&&

Their table for twelve as a little crowded but they didn’t mind as they got to know one another over a staggering amount of food. Mike, Matt, Carrie and Keith had all competed at Masters Events and filled Ian in on the various ins and outs of the facilities and other clubs that were likely to attend.

It was after two before they all went their separate ways. Michael took the wheel and headed for Fresh Fields for a little grocery shopping. The others had all recommended it and they all had a little time that afternoon.

Pieter yawned behind his hand and pushed the cart with his other. Ian looked up from his perusal of various breads with a small grin.

“Late night?”

“Long flight after too much drama.” Pieter corrected knowing full well what Ian was getting at but not wanting to give him an opening. He knew he succeeded when Ian’s teasing look changed to one of concern.

“Was it bad?”

Pieter shrugged in that way he always did. “I just reached my limit. I wish I’d seen her more clearly before we married but she was very good at playing the role. I feel badly for her but I could not remain her husband, not after all the lies.”

“Well I’m sorry that it couldn’t work but you’re now dating my best friend, you know what that means.”

“That you will mind your own business?” Pieter asked hopefully.

“No, that you’ll always have me in your life. Isn’t that a nice added bonus?”

Pieter stopped and looked at Ian. “I hope you are joking.”

&&

There were adjustments made over the following week; adding one man to the household shouldn’t make much of a difference but as Pieter’s residency didn’t begin until June, he was at loose ends and spent much of his time around the house.

“Pieter, you don’t have to make dinner every night.” Michael said as he returned home from his final exam on Thursday, December 17th to find Pieter making spaghetti sauce.

“I know but it gives me something to do during the day. I found myself watching a soap opera again this afternoon. Until my finances are straight, we can’t even look for a place to live.”

“What’s the problem?”

“The Patriot Act. I have to have proof that my earnings are not from terrorist activities; my bank is taking care of the paperwork but as I came here earlier than expected it is taking more time on their end.”

“Okay, I’m not even going to get into the whole stupid law but you’ve got money just to live on right now don’t you?”

“Yes, I have plenty of cash but it doesn’t help with a house. We also aren’t sure if we want to buy or rent. It will only be a few years after all and we could lose a lot of money buying the wrong place.”

“You should talk to Ian. He did all the research into the housing market here before we bought this place. There’s no limit on how long you guys can stay here you know so take your time.”

“Thank you Michael. You and Ian are good friends but we don’t want to cramp your style.”

“Well you aren’t but I have an idea. Can you leave your sauce for a minute?”

“Yes, I can turn it down. What are we doing?”

“Come with me to the basement.” Michael said as he opened the door to the stairs.

“All right but Grant will definitely miss me if you have plans to bury me down there.”

Michael stopped and looked at Pieter, laughing a little. “You have been watching too much TV.”

Pieter followed Michael into the lower level and stopped to look around. The basement was as large as the first floor of the house and seemed to sprawl out in two main directions. Off to the right there was a large room filled with various boxes and crates, obviously meant to be workout area if the mirrors were any indication. Ahead there was another set of glass doors Michael opened and walked through.

“We finished this space and reconfigured things a bit to help the resale value. It was a storage area with an office at that end but we made it into sort of a guest suite. We just didn’t bother to furnish it yet.”

Pieter found himself in a surprisingly spacious and bright room. There was a wall of frosted glass on one wall, a wet/bar kitchen, a wood stove in one corner and plain beige walls. “This seems very modern compared to the rest of the house.”

Chuckling, Michael glanced around and grinned at Pieter. “This is Ian’s reaction to living in a Victorian house. He’s gotten used to it now but he was a bit resistant at first. It has a full bath and a separate entrance. The kitchen isn’t much but we can work something out upstairs so no one’s always getting stuck with the cooking.”

“Michael, what are you getting at?”

“You guys need your own space. You can rent from us for a reasonable rate, get to know the area better and move out when you’re ready. That way you don’t feel like your freeloading or cramping our style. We get good neighbors who don’t mind walking the dogs and we aren’t in each others business.”

“What if we never find a place?”

“You have a home with us as long as you want one, Pieter. After everything you and Grant have done for us, you’re like family to me.” Michael laid his hand on Pieter’s shoulder and squeezed gently.

Pieter suddenly found himself in tears as the events of the past few months caught up with him. Michael simply pulled him into a comforting embrace and patted his back.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Pieter said with a sob as he clung to Michael.

“Shh. Its okay, Pieter. Just let it out.”

Michael’s sweatshirt was quite wet by the time Pieter got himself under control and they returned upstairs so he could clean himself up a bit. He felt much better after splashing his face with some water and sat down with a cup of tea as Michael took over the spaghetti sauce.

“You are getting to be like Ian, giving tea out for every occasion.”

“We’ve gone through a lot of tea over the years, so I’m not surprised.” Michael remarked.

“I’m sorry for getting so emotional back there.” Pieter said quietly.

“Do you feel better?”

“Well, yes. I feel lighter somehow.”

“Then don’t be sorry, you needed it. We’ve all been a worried about you, you know.”

“About me?”

“Yes, and I was happy to provide a friendly shoulder. Grant’s your lover and it must be a little awkward feeling sad about your divorce around him. It probably all built up in you just waiting for the right moment.”

“And there you were. I don’t know why I feel sad, I should be glad it’s over.”

Michael pulled out the chair next to Pieter and shook his head. “I think that when you love someone enough to marry them you will always have a part of you that loves them no matter how badly it ends. You’re sad because you’re mourning what could have been. It doesn’t make what you have with Grant any less but you’ll sure appreciate it more.”

“You have no idea how much I appreciate him. After all the commotion of living with Minouche, he makes me feel like I just dove into a cool deep pool. You know how it is when you’re under the water?”

“Everything falls away but the peacefulness of it all.”

“Yes! That’s how I feel around him.”

“Okay, forgive me for asking this but what about sex?”

Pieter froze with his cup half way to his mouth; he thought about lying but Michael asked and he needed to talk to someone.

“We haven’t, uh.”

“Still? You’ve been here over a week and I figured once you had a couple of days to settle in. . . .”

“Did Grant say something to you? Is that how you knew? Is that why you’re talking to me?” Pieter asked, feeling betrayed.

“Wait! Stop!” Michael put his hand up. “We’re going to need something stronger here than tea.” He got up and came back with two bottles of hard cider.

He opened them, passed one to Pieter and took a swallow of his own bottle before he answered. “Grant hasn’t said a word to me about anything. It’s just the way you guys look at each other sometimes. Like you’ve finally gotten what you wanted but you’re not sure what to do with it.”

Taking a swallow of his own, Pieter nodded slowly. “I’m afraid. I love him so much but- Grant really looks at me like that?”

“Yes and he’s probably just as afraid as you are. Are you expecting him to make the first move?”

“I don’t know what I’m expecting anymore and I don’t know how to bring it up.”

“Well, from what I saw in Athens, you don’t mind being on top so why don’t you just push him onto his back and have your way with him?”

“I-” Pieter stopped. “You know, I guess I just assumed that he’d want me to bottom.”

“Ah.”

“Ah? That’s all you say?”

“I think you can figure out what happened from there.”

“He’s waiting for me to make the first move.”

“Very good. You have learned well, little grasshopper.” Michael intoned.

Pieter bowed gracefully in his seat. “Thank you, oh wise one. Now, what is this we’re drinking? It’s not bad.”

“Granny Smith Woodchuck Cider. Do you want another? I’ve got the Amber and the Dark & Dry.”

“No,nk ynk you. One is fine but I’d like to try one of the others later.”

“They’re on the bottom shelf so help yourself. Do you have a salad planned or should I go ahead and make one?”

“No I hadn’t gotten that far. Shall I see what’s in the fridge?” Pieter asked, getting up to wash out their bottles.

“Okay. Is Ian still picking up Grant at the train station?”

“Yes, they should be here in an hour.”

The salad ingredients were found and they stood around the island, chopping up veggies when Pieter stopped.

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to thank you for your help today. I was getting desperate. It’s funny how it all got tangled in my mind and I couldn’t think through it.”

“No worries as our men would say.” Michael said. “I was serving my own selfish purposes after all.”

“You were?”

“Yep, I figure that Grant and Ian are sure to gang up on us at some point and we’ll need to fight them off together. Ian’s already up to something, I can tell.”

“They are both very sneaky like that but we have the advantage over them.”

“How so?”

“They’re Australians, we are not. We’ve already got a head start just based on that.”

“Uh-huh. Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“But of course.”

“What was your first dissection like? In the morgue?”

“I threw up everything I’d eaten the prior week; it the the most horrible thing I’d ever seen.”

Michael put his knife down suddenly. “Oh geeze.”

“I’m telling you this because I wish someone had told me. I also had to force myself to go back in there although everything inside of me was begging me to run far away as fast as possible. But once I was back inside, I realized that if I truly wanted to help people, to make a difference in their lives; I needed to do it.

“I picked up the knife and tried again, to my surprise it was much easier because I knew what to expect. It’s a very unnatural thing, cutting into another human being. Michael, are you okay?”

By that point, Michael was sitting down on the floor. “I’m never going to be able to do it.”

Pieter came around the island and crouched down. “You’ll do fine.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I did it. If you fail out, I’ll be able to hold it over your head for the rest of your natural life.”

“Wow, that’s so supportive of you.”

“You asked for it.” Pieter grabbed Michael’s hands and pulled him up. “Actually you’ll make it through the class because you’re not a quitter. You won’t like it but you’re not going into surgery and it’s only aple ple of months.” Pieter patted Michael’s shoulder and went back to his onions.

Michael thought it over and appreciated the brutal truth over sugar coating. “Okay, I’ll give it my best shot.”

“This is only ten times better than almost anyone’s efforts; except mine of course.”

“Ah, there’s the Pieter we all know and missed.”

“Do you know what I figured out the other day?”

“I’m seriously afraid to ask.”

“How many Olympic medals do we have between us?”

“Twenty three.”

“I meant between the four of us.”

“Forty four.”

“You just know this information off the top of your head? I had to look on the internet.”

“Well it’s not brain surgery. God you really have been bored if you’re looking that stuff up.”

“You have no idea. I’m going to need to find something to do until June.”

“What about volunteering at the hospital down the hill? You can’t practice medicine but its close enough to bike or even walk to.”

“Michael! I could kiss you! That’s a fabulous idea.” Pieter came around and pulled Michael into a big bear hug. “It’s so fabulous that I can’t imagine why I didn’t think of it myself.” Pieter released Michael and danced across the kitchen.

Michael tossed the veggies into a bowl and smirked as he watched Pieter. “Do you want some music because you have a serious lack of rhythm going over there.”

Pieter turned and blew a raspberry at Michael as Ian and Grant walked through the back door.

“Beminde, you’re home!” Pieter threw himself into Grant’s arms, his whole face lighting up.

Grant caught him and hugged him tightly. “I’m home and you’re in an awfully good mood.”

“Because you’re back.”

Ian eased around the embracing couple and sidled up to Michael, kissing his cheek as he stole a carrot. “Hello love.”

“Hi baby, dr’s r’s almost ready.”

“Great, I’m starved. What’s up with Pieter? Did you get him drunk?” Ian asked as he turned to get a soda.

“No, we just had a nice talk this afternoon.” Michael’s eyes widened as he watched Pieter’s hand drift down and squeeze Grant’s ass. “Oh someone’s definitely getting laid tonight.”

“For heaven’s sake Michael I’ve just walked in the door. But I guess I’ll agree just this-” Ian stopped as he turned back to continue teasing Michael. “Whoa.”

“You think we should stop him before he takes all of Grant’s clothes off?”

Ian reached up and snagged Grant’s shirt out of the air. “As we both know from personal experience how cold the floor is in here, I vote yes.”

“Well it’s your best friend, go on.”

“Me?”

“You.”

“Maybe this is something they need to find out on their own like we did.”

“Hopefully, Grant won’t spend the next to weeks complaining about how frozen his ass got.”

“Oh and you didn’t complain about it? It was very distracting I’ll have you know.”

“Ian, Michael? Would you mind putting some dinner aside for us to eat later? Grant and I have some things to do upstairs.” Pieter towed Grant out of the room, the taller man looking rather breathless and dazed.

“Way to go Pieter,” Michael murmured, looking rather pleased with himself.

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing. By the way, I suggested to Pieter that he and Grant could use the basement space if they wanted. There’s a delay with getting his funds transferred and they’re still trying to decide on buying versus renting.”

“Well that’s no problem but there’s not much down there. I guess we’ll have to go shopping.” Ian said, looking rather happy at the prospect.

“Or they can buy their own furniture in their taste so it feels more like a home; they can always take it with them. Would you turn up the burner under the pasta pot?”

“You always take the fun out of things. Not that I’m complaining but why don’t they just keep the guest suite?”

“They’ll have their own entrance in the basement and well, I didn’t want to say anything but Pieter mentioned that you’re a tad loud at night.” Michael snuck a peek over his shoulder and quickly faced forward when Ian whipped around.

“What? I’m not the screamer in this relationship, he must have heard you.”

“I think it’s highly unlikely that I would be screaming my own name, Ian.”

Ian looked closely at Michael and pointed his finger accusingly. “I know that smirk! You little liar.”

“I could just be using the smirk to make you think I’m lying.” That stopped Ian for a moment. “I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll tell you if I’m lying if you tell me what you told Grant to make him look at me like that.”

Thinking it over, Ian capitulated. “I may have suggested to Grant that you have a laundry thing.”

“A laundry thing?”

“A thing verging on a fetish.”

“Oh, well that’s not so bad. And I am lying; I suggested that they move so we all can have some privacy. Do you want garlic bread or garlic and parmesan?”

“The cheese one. Michael, you are getting quite crafty.”

“Well I learned it all from you.” Michael put his arms around Ian’s neck. “So you don’t mind if they move downstairs?”

“No, it’s a good idea.”

“Glad you agree.” They kissed for a minute then drew back and looked up at the ceiling as Grant’s hoarse voice could be heard loudly chanting Pieter’s name.

“Maybe they’ll be willing to move downstairs this weekend.”
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The Sweet Life