Sean
It’s still nice weather, so I don’t mind the walk. It’s not so bad going back to the Uni either, even though I have enjoyed the holidays. But there’s that familiar tingle of a new term starting and it feels good, even though I’ll probably be bored with it within a few weeks. I know myself well enough for that. But for now it’s a good feeling.
I know I look good. The three weeks in Spain have given me a tan and lightened my hair, and it got me quite a bit of attention over there. I hope it will work out the same here. It’s nice being popular, it gets you invited to parties, and hopefully it will get me a lot of sex.
It's not that I haven't had plenty in the last year. I still live at home, and even though my parents wouldn’t mind me bringing girls home, they would expect me to go steady with that girl. I don’t want any kind of relationship though, I just want to have sex. The girls from other places in the UK live on the campus mostly, and I've seen quite a few of those rooms from the inside, and shagged on quite a few of those small single beds.
It's all good, but not really as hot as I imagine it could be. At night in bed I often think about hot things like having my cock sucked, but so far I never got any further than fucking. I can only hope I’ll be luckier this year, and get up the nerve to ask for what I'd like.
And then there was that one time in the showers of course.. I push away the thoughts about that very swiftly, I don’t want to think about it any more, it was just a bit of a grope, that’s all, and I am glad that bloke isn’t around any longer.
First thing to do today is go to the Sports Hall, and apply for the swimming team like last year. I have no doubt the coach will take me back, even though I am a bit late in applying. It’s not like there’s much competition, and I was the best on the team last year.
I like sports, and I am crazy about football and my home team, but I’d rather watch than play it myself. I am a bit too lazy to train a few evenings a week. Swimming comes a lot easier and it has done wonders for my body. I used to be a bit skinny, but the training has given me a much more muscular build, and I plan to keep it that way.
Coach Davis chides me mildly for being this late, but still puts me on the list. There’s a slight smirk when he turns around to look at me.
“There will be a bit more competition this year, Sean, you will have to practise more and push your limits a bit. We have a new guy on the team, an American exchange student. I made him swim to see if he’s any good, and he is certainly fast. I don’t think you’ll be able to beat him.”
“We’ll just wait and see, Coach,” I say as calmly as I can, but I am pretty much irritated really. A bloody American, why the fuck do they have to come here? Let’s just hope the bugger is as ugly as hell. I know the girls here, and how they feel about anything coming from America, and I don't want him grazing my turf.
So, he'd better be ugly for his own sake.
Viggo
Pretty much the first thing I did, when I got here, was to sign up for the swim team.
This is my first trip to the UK and I am here as an exchange student from my Uni in New York State. I am used to travelling around, as although I was born in the US, my parents went to work in South America before I was potty trained and they moved around a lot. I also spent most school vacations in Denmark, with my Dad’s family and am fluent in Spanish and Danish, as well as English.
It made me very self-sufficient as a kid, but there was never really time to make friends, because we were forever on the move. I spent a lot of time alone, either riding my horse or with my camera or sketch-pad and when we returned to New York after their divorce, I found the culture shock a challenge. For a teenager I was pretty uncool, plus quiet and shy, which could have been a recipe for a tough time in school, but my salvation was my innate talent for swimming and tennis.
You are forgiven many things if you excel at sports and can help your school win trophies, as I quickly found out. That’s why, when I came to Sheffield on a year’s exchange, I lost no time in getting my name down and trialling for the team.
Because of my background, I am relaxed about travelling abroad and am looking forward to my time here, but having an advantage doesn’t hurt. The coach seemed pretty impressed by my times and seemed confident of my getting a place in the team.
I have already made friends with my immediate neighbours in the Hall of Residence, who seem like regular guys and welcomed me nicely, dragging me to the bar last night, with very little resistance.
Tonight will be the first training session at the pool, when I will meet the rest of the swimming squad. I can’t help speculating about the possible talent and I am not primarily thinking of swimming skills. One thing to be said for swimming is that it tones the body well and the costume you wear to participate leaves little to the imagination. There are many times, when I have been thankful for cold water.
Being keen, I am early, which clearly impresses the coach and I get the opportunity to talk with the others as they arrive. They are a friendly and encouraging bunch and I begin to have a good feeling about this. There are a couple of really hot girls, who seem interested in furthering Anglo-American relations. It seems that we are waiting for the star of the team, but he is late, which seems to surprise nobody.
Finally, the coach decides to start the warm-up stretching exercises and we are just getting into them, when this guy arrives .Well, “arrives” is maybe not adequate. ”Makes an entrance” would better describe it.
All eyes turn toward him and fuck, he is beautiful.
Maybe I should explain that I have continued taking photographs and drawing, which has given me a heightened appreciation of the human body. Well, that’s what I tell myself, when my interest is aroused by a particularly attractive guy and I am uncomfortably aware that more than my interest is being aroused right now.
It’s confusing, as the hot chicks didn’t have this immediate effect on me, even with the high-cut swimsuits.
This guy is lean, but with well-defined musculature, his broad shoulders and smooth chest tapering to slim hips. His skin is golden with a light and even tan and I drag my eyes up to his face, hurriedly. It’s a strong face, with a determined jaw and biggish nose. He is blond, with green eyes and an arrogant half-sneer, as he coolly regards the rest of us.
“So pleased you could join us, Sean,” says the coach with heavy sarcasm. “this is our new squad member, Viggo. I want you both in lane one, as you’re well – matched. Now everybody, line up by the lanes as I call your names.”
Sean curls his lip with apparent contempt, as he looks me slowly up and down. With a hurried, “Hi”, I turn and dive into the water, before he can see the bulge in my Speedos.
“Hey”, shouts the coach, “wait for the whistle !”
I tread water and shake water droplets from my hair, squinting up at Sean on the poolside.
Shit ! From the smug smirk, I guess he did see !
Sean
Today is the first swimming training session, and I am ready for it. I worked out a little at home, something I usually never do, but I want to be prepared for everything.
I haven’t met or even seen the American yet, but I did hear about him. This morning two girls I know – I shagged them both last year – were talking and giggling about him. Okay, so he’s not ugly. That will only complicate things for him I tell myself.
I am on my way to the Sports building much too early, but I don’t want to seem too eager, so I walk around the building twice before I go in. I take my time in changing into my swimming trunks. As expected everybody is there already and they turn round when I step in.
Well there he is. The first thought I have is, I have never seen a guy my age with that amount of body hair, except perhaps in Spain where the men are so much darker than we are. This guy is blonde though, but his chest is covered in a thick dark pelt of hair. Thinking about my mostly hairless torso, I know I must look like a boy compared to him.
Most of the girls have their eyes upon him, and when I look at his face I can clearly see why. It’s the kind of face that will attract a lot of attention, but I still don’t like him. I glare when the coach introduces him – Viggo, what kind of name is that ? – and tells us to share lane one, because we’re matched.
I look at the guy openly now, trying to unnerve him with my stare. I can’t help noticing the unusual tight red swimming trunks he’s wearing, and the very prominent erection pushing up against the fabric. Our eyes meet just before he says “hi” in a shy way, turns around and dives into the water.
Of course he gets chided by the coach for not waiting for the whistle, but I know that look – and perhaps the erection too – was for me, and he jumped in to hide it. I can’t help grinning a little at him, as he looks up at me. “You can’t hide, you bastard,’ I think, ‘not wearing something like that.’
He pulls himself out of the pool and stands next to me, water streaming down his body. A well-honed body it is, the chest hair now flattened and revealing two perked nipples. I tear my eyes loose from him, very much surprised by my own thoughts. I force myself to concentrate on the swimming, in order to re-establish my position in the team.
When my body hits the water I feel better, swimming with long, forceful strokes, and I know I am making a good time. My fingertips touch the tiles on the other side, and I go down to turn, when I feel something brushing my thigh. Fuck, he must be really close ! Determined not to let my concentration falter, I focus on my strokes and speed up a little more. I emerge on the other side, gulping for more air.
The bloke – Viggo – is next to me, and I can’t tell which one of us was here first. He smiles at me shyly, but I ignore him, and turn around to look at the coach.
The coach looks at the stopwatch in his hands, his face one big smile.
“You both made a great time boys, and I was right you are pretty well matched. Hard to tell which one of you was faster, but if I had to chose, I would say it was Viggo.” He smirks at me, and then turns around to the other team members.
Bloody fucking hell !
I am about to pull myself out of the pool, to get ready for the next dive, when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn around reluctantly ; I swear I’ll hit him if he mocks me. But he just looks at me warily, the blue eyes unguarded.
“Hey, you’re a great swimmer. It’s really cool to be able to work with someone who’s matched. It will be good for the team too.”
I recognise it for the peace offer it is, but I just grumble a “yes” before I turn round and get out of the pool. I am not that easily charmed, not even by a good looking bloke in tight fitting trunks like that. Very tight fitting, I might say.
Not that I care about that, I tell myself sternly.
Viggo
I pull myself out of the pool, evidence now nicely deflated by the shock of the cold water and apologise to Coach Davis.
Sean is checking me out, but I avoid eye contact and also avoid looking at his body. We have clearly got off on the wrong foot. He is used to being cock of the walk and sees me as a threat. I am not looking to make enemies here and like to get along with people. I would very much like to be his friend, anyway.
I focus on the coach - no danger of any embarrassing reactions to him - and prepare to follow his instructions to swim two lengths freestyle against Sean. Although I am not anxious to antagonize him further, I won’t pull any strokes to let him win. Quiet I may be, but I am also fiercely competitive, as he will find out.
On the coach’s whistle, we hit the water simultaneously and get to the tumble turn at pretty much the same time. We are so close that our bodies brush underwater, then I am cutting through the water again on the home leg and I touch the side at the same time as Sean, or maybe a fraction of a second earlier.
When Sean realizes I am beside him, he snaps his head round to look at me disbelievingly. I venture a smile as a peace offering, but he ignores me and looks up at the coach, who confirms what I thought.
He is clearly pleased, but Sean is just as clearly furious. As he puts his hands on the pool surround and tenses his back muscles, ready to heave himself out, I touch his shoulder. He slides back into the water and turns to me, his face inches from mine. He certainly looks pissed and his hand, still resting on the poolside clenches.
I smile, cautiously,
“Hey, you’re a great swimmer. It’s really cool to be able to work with someone who’s matched. It will be good for the team too.”
There is no answering smile, but at least he unclenches his long fingers and growls “yes” at me, before he turns away and hauls his ass out of the pool. I watch transfixed as it flexes under the tight, wet lycra, moulding itself to his butt cheeks, like it has been sprayed on.
Swallowing hard and willing my body to behave, I sigh and pull myself out of the pool. This is going to be an uphill struggle.
The coach tries us out against each other in the other styles. I have the edge over him in backstroke, but he just beats me in breast stroke and ‘fly. It is still very close, though and our times are much better than the others.
After the trials, you could cut the air between us with a knife. I have complimented Sean on his wins, but he hasn’t commented on mine and his jaw is set in a stubborn line.
The fact that the girls are showing an interest in me doesn’t help his mood and I am relieved, when we are instructed to get back in the water and run training lengths. We dive in at intervals and I am ahead of him, but I know that he will be going flat out to catch me up and overtake me.
Well, fuck him ! I am determined that he won’t and confident I can hold him off on my best strokes. In fact, he makes me so mad that I even hold him off on his best strokes and he doesn’t manage to pass me once.
I end the session totally exhausted, but with the grim satisfaction that the asshole didn’t beat me. As I just about manage to haul myself out of the pool on my aching arms, I can see that he is just as tired, although he tries to hide it.
We join the other guys and head for the showers. They are talking about the girls and I come in for a load of ribbing about how they fancy me and which one will I choose?
Sean doesn’t join in, just has his shower and stalks into the locker room, gloriously naked to get his clothes.
I wrap my towel around my waist and follow, but find myself incapable of doing anything, but stare at him, as he stands at his locker. Suddenly everyone seems to have gone and we are alone in an eerie silence.
Sean jerks round and catches me, before I can look away.
“What the fuck are you staring at, you prick ?”
Sean
Even though I manage to beat him on two of the strokes, he beats me with backstroke. It’s all close and I have to grudgingly admit – be it just to myself – that we are in fact very well matched. But training isn’t done yet, and I am determined to show him who’s the best in the end. It is my country and my city after all.
But the bastard doesn’t flinch and he makes me work like crazy and I still bite the dust. By the end of the training my muscles are protesting, and I am more tired than I am willing to admit. Worst of all is he seems to have made an even bigger impression on the girls now, and they are swarming around him and his tight American trunks. Practically begging to get their hands on it, I think bitterly.
But he can’t fuck them all at once, I try to assure myself. There’ll be plenty left for me. When we are finally off I can’t help noticing the way he walks to the showers. He’s probably just as tired as me, and the whole competition thing suddenly strikes me as slightly ridiculous. But when showering off he gets questioned by the other blokes about which girl he will be fucking first, and that pisses me off again.
I don’t join in, just shower as quickly as I can, and then go to the locker room. For a moment I close my eyes before I open the door and wonder why the fuck this image of him and his straining erection keeps popping up before my eyes. Okay, so he’s not the first guy I’ve been attracted to, but I don’t even like him. Meeting him has been easily the worst experience I’ve had in months, but still the image lingers. and I hate it.
Suddenly, in the silence of the locker room I hear the sound of a light gasp and I turn around on my feet swiftly. Viggo stands frozen to the spot, and I am very much aware I am stark naked, and aware of where his eyes were too. It’s all pretty annoying and I snap at him, trying to ignore the way the towel he has wrapped around his waist is tenting.
“What the fuck are you staring at, you prick ?”
He doesn’t answer right away, but just stares at me for a minute. When he speaks his cheeks are flushed, and his voice wavers a little, but his eyes are steady on mine.
“I just.. well I thought we might have started off all wrong Sean, and perhaps we could be friends..”
For a moment I feel a slight pang of guilt, but then I snort derisively. “Why is that ..Veegoo ? Haven’t you made friends enough for one evening ?”
I turn around and dress quickly, then when I look again he’s gone. I walk home which seems a better option than waiting for the bus I could stay at the Uni of course, go to the bar, chat up a girl and get laid, but I don’t feel like it. Too tired I guess.
I get home early and watch the telly, drinking a beer. My parents seem to pick up the vibes and leave me in peace, but I am still edgy. When my younger sister comes home from a friend and slumps next to me on the couch, expecting me to be her big brother I barely restrain myself from lashing out at her. I really do love her, but tonight I need to be alone, so I just go up to my room.
I try to read a little, but I can’t keep my attention on the book. I put on some music, which usually does do the trick, but not tonight. Finally I relent, lock the door and undress. I lie on my back naked, replaying the events of this evening, wondering why the fuck I behaved like such a prick.
Again, the image of Viggo emerges, the one I’ve tried to push away all evening. His body, the hair on the chest, two erect nubs peeking out, the canting erection, and most of all those hungry eyes.
My head drops back when I finally give in and take my cock in my hand. I moan when I think about the way he looked at me in the locker room, and how it would feel to drag my hand through that thick pelt of hair.
I cry out sharply when I come, thankful for the loud music still playing.
Summary: Sean and Viggo are University students competing on the swimming team.
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: AUChallenges:
Series: Changing LanesChapters: 3 Completed: Yes
Word count: 10658 Read: 2807
Published: 05 Aug 2009 Updated: 05 Aug 2009