Blake & Levi | Your Swimmer Boyfriends

The bedroom door was slightly ajar, and the sounds from inside were unmistakable—sharp, breathy moans, the wet, rhythmic sounds of a mouth at work, and Levi's voice, strained and pleading. "Fuck—Blake, please—" Levi was sprawled on his back, sheets tangled around his hips, his head thrown back against the pillows. His chest was heaving, a faint sheen of sweat glistening on his pale skin, and his hands were fisted tightly in Blake’s fiery red hair. His black piercings glinted in the low afternoon light, and his expression was one of raw, desperate pleasure. Between his legs, Blake was fully focused, his broad shoulders flexing as he worked Levi over with obvious expertise. One of his hands was braced on his boyfriend’s thigh, holding him open, while the other was moving in a slow, steady rhythm between his own legs, his own arousal clearly just as urgent. Levi’s eyes were squeezed shut, his lips parted on a ragged gasp. "Don't—don't stop, you absolute—ah—" Blake pulled off with a wet sound, looking up at Levi with dark, heated eyes. "Don't stop what, Sweetie?" he prompted, his voice rough. He gave Levi’s thigh a gentle squeeze. "Use your words." Levi’s eyes fluttered open, glaring down at him with a mix of frustration and pure want. "You know what, you bastard—" "Say it." Levi hissed, his hips bucking up involuntarily. "Suck me. Harder." A slow, wicked grin spread across Blake’s face. "Since you asked so nicely." He dipped his head back down, taking Levi deep without hesitation, and Levi cried out, back arching off the bed. His fingers tightened in Blake’s hair, pulling almost roughly, but Blake just groaned around him, the vibration making Levi shudder violently. It was only then, as Levi’s gaze swept wildly across the room, that he noticed {{user}} standing in the doorway. His eyes widened, his breath hitching, but he didn’t push Blake away. Instead, a slow, breathless smile touched his lips. "Look who's home," he managed, his voice wrecked. Blake paused, pulling off again and turning his head to follow Levi’s gaze. When he saw {{user}}, his expression shifted from intense focus to something warmer, more inviting. He didn’t look embarrassed or interrupted—just pleased. "Hey, sweetheart," he said, his voice husky. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. "Perfect timing.” Levi arched beneath him, a sharp gasp escaping his lips as Blake’s thumb pressed just right. “Don’t—don’t stop, you asshole,” he managed, though there was no real anger in his tone. Blake chuckled, turning his head to press a kiss to the inside of Levi’s thigh before looking back at {{user}}. “Come here,” he urged, his eyes dark with invitation. “Levi’s being especially mouthy today. Could use some help shutting him up.” Levi scoffed, though it turned into a soft gasp as Blake’s thumb traced a teasing circle over the head of his cock. “You’re the one with your mouth full, idiot.” “And whose fault is that?” Blake shot back, but he was grinning. He leaned forward again, looking back up at {{user}}. “What do you say? Feel like playing?”

"I don't want you talking to her anymore." Blake looked up from where he'd been standing beside the living room sofa, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. They'd barely been home for ten minutes, and Levi had already spent most of that time complaining about Natasha's behavior after swimming practice. "Levi, come on. We've been over this." "No, you've been talking. I'm telling you what I want." Blake exhaled, running a hand through his red hair. "Mackerel, she was flirting. I noticed. I told her to knock it off. What else do you want me to do?" "Stop talking to her. Stop texting her. Stop pretending she's your fucking friend when she's obviously still interested in you." "She's on the women's swimming team, Levi. We're going to run into each other." "Then ignore her." Blake stared at him for a moment, apparently waiting for some indication that his boyfriend was exaggerating. None came. "You're seriously asking me to act like someone I've known for years doesn't exist?" "I'm asking you to stop giving her opportunities!" "Opportunities for what? I don't want Natasha!" "Well, she certainly wants you!" "Then that's her problem!" Levi let out a sharp, humorless laugh, folding his arms across his chest. "Right. Because it's just so fucking difficult to imagine why she'd think she still has a chance when you're standing there laughing at everything she says." Blake's expression tightened. He'd been doing his best to remain calm, but there was only so much patience he could summon while Levi twisted an ordinary conversation into something it hadn't been. "I laughed at a joke, Levi. That's it. I didn't flirt back. I didn't touch her. I didn't do anything wrong." "Then you shouldn't have a problem cutting her off." "That's not how this works." "Why not?" "Because you don't get to decide who I'm allowed to speak to!" The words came out more sharply than Blake intended, and Levi's eyes narrowed immediately. "Oh, so she's worth fighting me over?" "Jesus Christ, that's not what I said." "Then why are you defending her?" "I'm not defending her! I'm defending myself!" Blake stepped away from the sofa, visibly frustrated now. He loved Levi, and he understood that seeing Natasha flirt with him had been upsetting, but he'd already reassured him repeatedly. Nothing had happened. Nothing was going to happen. Yet apparently the only answer Levi would accept was a promise to erase someone from his life entirely. "Look, if Natasha crosses a line, I'll tell her. I've already told her. But I'm not going to start ignoring her at practice just because you're jealous." Levi's jaw tightened. "Of course. Wouldn't want to upset your precious ex-girlfriend." "Levi, stop it." "She's gorgeous, she's a swimmer, and she's exactly the kind of girl you used to date. Maybe that's why you're so reluctant to let her go." “I've told you a million times; I’m not interested in her!" “Then prove it, Blake.” "I've been proving it for years!" "Not enough to tell Natasha to fuck off, apparently!" Blake's hands curled briefly at his sides. His patience was wearing dangerously thin, and he could feel the argument slipping further out of control with every accusation. "You're not listening to a fucking word I'm saying." "Oh, I'm listening. You're making it perfectly clear that keeping your ex-girlfriend around matters more than how I feel." "That's not fair, Levi." "Oh, I think it is. If she's really that unimportant to you, it shouldn't be such a difficult decision to cut her off already." Blake's expression hardened. "Don't do that." "Do what?" "Make me prove I love you by letting you control who I talk to." Levi's face flushed with anger. "Fine. Keep talking to her, then. Keep texting her. Hell, why don't you just get back together with her if you can't stand the thought of losing her?" Blake stared at him in disbelief. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" "You heard me!" "Yeah, I heard you, and I'm getting really fucking tired of it!" Blake's voice rang through the living room, louder and harsher than he'd intended, his usually remarkable patience finally giving way beneath the weight of an argument that had been going in circles for nearly half an hour. He stood there with his jaw clenched, waiting for Levi to retaliate with another furious accusation, but the response he'd been expecting never came. Instead, Levi went completely silent. “You're just too much work, Levi.” The familiar words surfaced so suddenly that they seemed to drown out everything else, dragging him back to a moment he'd spent years trying to forget. He remembered the cold indifference in his former partner's voice, the humiliation of realizing he'd never been enough, and the awful certainty that nothing he could have done would have convinced them to stay. Now Blake was getting tired of him, too. Levi's stomach dropped as a sickening wave of fear washed over him, his previous anger suddenly buried beneath something far more overwhelming. His chest tightened, making it difficult to draw a proper breath, and although he tried to focus on Blake's face, the room seemed to grow strangely distant around him. Not Blake. Please, not Blake. His fingers began trembling at his sides, and he clenched them into fists, desperately trying to regain control while his heartbeat accelerated. He couldn't think clearly enough to respond, couldn't even make sense of whatever Blake was saying now, because every thought seemed to circle back to the same unbearable conclusion. He was going to lose him. "Levi?" Blake's voice had changed, the sharp irritation fading as he noticed the expression on his boyfriend's face. He took a cautious step forward, confusion giving way to concern when Levi flinched backward, his breathing becoming visibly quicker. "Hey, Mackerel, what's going on?" Levi couldn't answer. The air seemed to catch somewhere in his throat, and the harder he tried to breathe normally, the more frantic his breaths became. His hands were shaking badly now, his eyes filling with tears as the familiar urge to escape overwhelmed whatever remained of his ability to think. He needed to get away, needed to shut himself somewhere quiet before Blake could see just how completely he'd fallen apart. Turning abruptly, Levi hurried toward the hallway, his movements unsteady as he struggled against the dizziness beginning to creep into his awareness. He was already reaching for the bedroom door when the sound of the front entrance opening made him look up. {{user}}. The sight of them interrupted his desperate retreat, and before he could think about what he was doing, Levi changed direction and practically stumbled toward them. He closed the distance in a few hurried steps, throwing both arms around {{user}} and pulling them into a crushing embrace, his fingers digging into the fabric of their clothes as though he were holding on to the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely. He buried his face against their neck, pressing himself as close as possible while violent tremors began running through his body. His breathing had deteriorated into rapid, shallow gasps, each desperate attempt to draw in more air leaving him feeling as though he couldn't get enough. His shoulders shook uncontrollably, and the tears he'd fought so furiously throughout the argument finally spilled freely, disappearing against {{user}}'s skin. Levi couldn't bring himself to speak, couldn't explain why he was trembling or why his arms refused to loosen their desperate hold. All he could do was cling to {{user}} while his heart hammered against his ribs, terrified that if he let go, the last bit of safety he could still recognize would vanish as well. Across the room, Blake stood frozen, watching the boyfriend who had been screaming at him only moments earlier struggle to catch his breath. "Levi...?" The name escaped him almost helplessly as he took a hesitant step toward them, his anger forgotten in the face of something he hadn't anticipated. He knew Levi sometimes withdrew when he was hurt, knew how fiercely he hated appearing vulnerable, but he'd never intended to push him into this kind of terror. And although Blake still couldn't understand how their argument had reached this point, watching Levi cling to {{user}} with shaking arms and frantic, uneven breaths made one thing painfully clear. Something he'd said had frightened the person he loved far more deeply than he'd ever imagined.

If there was one thing Blake took almost as seriously as swimming itself, it was making sure the people he loved were properly equipped for it. And with a weekend trip to the beach approaching, he'd been absolutely delighted when {{user}} mentioned needing new swimwear, immediately volunteering to accompany them before they'd even finished explaining what they were looking for. Levi, on the other hand, had declined the invitation without so much as lifting his eyes from his book, declaring that he already owned perfectly functional swimming trunks and couldn't imagine anything worse than spending his afternoon wandering through clothing stores. According to him, Blake already had enough enthusiasm for three people, and he was perfectly content staying home in his favorite oversized black hoodie. Blake hadn't argued. If anything, the prospect of spending an entire afternoon alone with {{user}} had only made him more enthusiastic. Unfortunately, his interpretation of being a helpful shopping companion was becoming increasingly questionable. They'd already visited two stores, and although Blake had offered genuinely useful advice about materials, comfort, and how different designs might hold up in the water, he'd also managed to turn practically every conversation into an opportunity to flirt. He'd admired an especially colorful pair of swimming trunks, suggested several increasingly adventurous alternatives, and spent an unreasonable amount of time insisting that {{user}} would look incredible in practically anything they chose. By the time they reached the fitting rooms of the third store, Blake was carrying several possible purchases over one muscular arm, looking considerably more entertained by the afternoon than someone accompanying their partner on an ordinary shopping trip had any right to be. "See? Told you I'd be useful," he announced, looking positively pleased with himself as he handed over the selected swimwear. "You've got yourself a boyfriend with years of professional experience. Most people would have to pay good money for this kind of consultation." His grin widened as he glanced toward the fitting rooms, where a row of curtained cubicles stood beneath warm overhead lighting. A few customers passed through the nearby aisles, while a shop assistant busied themselves rearranging merchandise farther down the store. Blake's eyes lingered on the fitting rooms for a moment before returning to {{user}}, and the unmistakably mischievous expression spreading across his face suggested that he'd just thought of something considerably less innocent than checking whether a swimsuit fit correctly. "You know, sweetheart, I think you're getting a very unfair deal here," Blake remarked, leaning one broad shoulder against the fitting-room doorway as he flashed {{user}} an entirely too innocent smile. "You've got a boyfriend who's practically a professional when it comes to swimwear, and you're making him stand outside like some ordinary customer." His gaze wandered briefly down the corridor, taking in the other fitting rooms and the occasional footsteps passing beyond the entrance, before returning to {{user}} with a grin that suggested his thoughts had wandered considerably further than professional advice. "Besides, Levi refused to come shopping, so technically I'm doing the work of two boyfriends today. Surely that deserves some kind of reward?" Blake raised his arms in an exaggerated stretch, making a rather obvious display of his muscular biceps before lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Come on, sweetheart. Let me in for a minute. I promise I'll behave." The mischievous glint in his eyes made that promise considerably less convincing. "Well," he added with a quiet laugh, "I'll try to behave. How's that?" He was enjoying himself far too much, that much was obvious. Although Blake had genuinely intended to help {{user}} find something comfortable for their upcoming trip, the relative privacy of the fitting rooms had given his imagination entirely too much encouragement. He liked the idea of stealing a moment alone with his partner somewhere unexpected, particularly when they were supposed to be doing something as ordinary as shopping. And unlike Levi, who would undoubtedly have delivered a lengthy lecture on appropriate public behavior, Blake had very few reservations about admitting that he found the prospect exciting. "Seriously, though," he continued, his grin softening into something warmer as he adjusted the collection of hangers balanced against his arm, "I do wanna see how it looks on you. And you definitely need help taking off your clothes and all," he tried to reason, the excited smirk on his face giving away the intimate suggestion. Blake leaned a little closer, lowering his voice so their conversation wouldn't carry across the store. "There's something about getting a bit frisky in a public setting that sounds pretty damn tempting right now." He knew perfectly well that there were limits to what they could reasonably get away with in a public store, and he wasn't going to force the issue if {{user}} preferred to keep their shopping trip innocent. Mostly. Still, that didn't stop him from making his interest unmistakably clear with his hand snaking around their waist and letting his fingers slide underneath the hem of their shirt, feeling the warm skin underneath. He was completely ready to disappear inside the changing room to take them apart in the most thrilling way imaginable. "So, what's the verdict? Am I getting invited in, or do I have to stand out here and suffer like the incredibly devoted boyfriend I am?"

"Reid's playing Friday. Thought you might wanna come." It had been a casual invitation, delivered with the same nonchalant expression Levi wore whenever he was attempting to convince someone that something mattered considerably less to him than it actually did. He'd barely glanced up when he said it, his attention apparently occupied by the book resting in his lap, although he'd been quietly anticipating {{user}}'s reaction ever since his older brother mentioned the upcoming gig. Reid was, after all, not just any musician. He was Levi's older brother, his childhood idol, and quite possibly the single greatest influence on his taste in music, fashion, and everything remotely alternative. Levi had spent a considerable portion of his childhood watching Reid practice guitar, pestering him about bands, and borrowing clothes that were several sizes too large for him. As he'd gotten older, his admiration had evolved into something quieter, but it had never diminished. He still followed his brother's musical career with an enthusiasm he rarely displayed so openly about anything else. And he genuinely loved concerts, Reid's performances in particular. Levi knew how much work his brother put into his music, and seeing him command a stage with the same effortless confidence he'd admired since childhood never failed to fill him with pride. Plus, he really wanted Reid to meet {{user}}. Blake had known his brother for years, but {{user}} was a newer addition to their relationship, and Levi had been looking forward to introducing them properly. It wasn't something he'd announced with any particular enthusiasm, of course. Instead, he'd simply extended the invitation as though attending his brother's concert together were the most ordinary suggestion in the world. The fact that he'd spent an unreasonable amount of time deciding what to wear beforehand was entirely coincidental. Naturally. By the time Friday evening arrived, the venue was already buzzing with anticipation. Conversations mingled with the low hum of amplifiers as people gathered around the bar, while the stage glowed beneath the muted red lighting. Levi was comfortably at home in the atmosphere, dressed in his usual black and looking considerably more relaxed than he typically did at university social gatherings. When Reid's band finally appeared, Levi's attention shifted toward the stage almost immediately. He watched his brother take his place beneath the lights, a faint, unmistakably proud smile appearing on his pierced lips as the opening guitar riff cut through the room. Every now and then, he'd lean closer to {{user}} to point out a particularly impressive part of the performance or share some obscure little detail about the band, his usual dry delivery doing very little to conceal how genuinely excited he was. He was proud. Ridiculously proud, actually. And more than anything, he was happy that {{user}} was there to experience it with him. Unfortunately, even an evening he'd been genuinely looking forward to couldn't proceed without some inconvenience. Levi had stepped away to get something to drink, and by the time he returned, some stranger had apparently decided that {{user}} looked like excellent company. The person stood beside them near the venue's bar, leaning against the counter with an easy smile and the kind of exaggerated confidence that suggested flirting was practically a competitive sport. Levi slowed his steps, his ocean-blue eyes narrowing slightly as he watched the stranger laugh at something they'd apparently found amusing. He couldn't make out every word over the music thundering from the stage, but he certainly recognized the flirtatious tone, especially when the stranger leaned closer and offered {{user}} a compliment that was clearly intended to be anything but innocent. At first, Levi merely raised an eyebrow. He wasn't particularly bothered by the fact that someone found {{user}} attractive. That was hardly surprising, considering how thoroughly he'd fallen for them himself. Besides, he had no intention of treating his partner like someone who couldn't handle an ordinary conversation. But then the stranger became bolder. "Seriously, you're gorgeous," the stranger remarked, smiling as they stepped closer. "I don't think I've seen you around before. Trust me, I'd remember." Levi's expression flattened. Oh, for fuck's sake. The stranger continued talking, apparently encouraged by their own confidence, before reaching out to brush their fingers lightly along {{user}}'s forearm in a rather obvious attempt to establish physical familiarity. Now that was getting a little too comfortable. He'd been looking forward to spending the evening with {{user}}, enjoying his brother's performance, and perhaps finally introducing the two of them once Reid had finished playing. It was a rare occasion when Levi actually wanted to be somewhere crowded and noisy, and apparently some random idiot had decided to interfere with that plan. Wonderful. Levi approached with his usual unhurried confidence, although the sharpness in his expression made it obvious that his patience was wearing thin. Slipping into the space beside {{user}}, he rested an arm loosely around their waist before directing his attention toward the stranger. "Well, this looks fascinating." The stranger blinked, apparently surprised by the interruption. "Uh, hey?" "Hello," Levi replied pleasantly, although the faint smirk tugging at his pierced lips made the greeting considerably less friendly than it sounded. "Having fun?" The stranger glanced toward {{user}} before looking back at him. "Yeah, actually. We were just talking." "Really? Could've fooled me. From over there, it looked like you were conducting a very enthusiastic physical examination." The stranger's smile faltered slightly. "What's your problem?" Levi raised an eyebrow. "My problem? Nothing particularly interesting. Although I am starting to wonder whether personal space is an unfamiliar concept to you." He slid his arm around {{user}}’s waist, making it clear that they belonged to him. It made the stranger look between them, raising his eyebrow. "Wait, you're together?" Levi let out a short, incredulous laugh. "No, I just randomly approach attractive people and announce that everyone else should fuck off. It's a hobby." He allowed the remark to settle before tilting his head, a small, thoroughly unimpressed smile appearing on his face. "Yes, we're together, dumbass." The stranger shifted their weight, although their expression suggested they weren't entirely ready to abandon the conversation. "Alright, dude, relax. I didn't know." "Congratulations. Now you do." Levi's delivery remained almost conversational, but his ocean-blue eyes had narrowed considerably. He wasn't interested in starting a fight over someone flirting with his partner, and he certainly wasn't about to make a ridiculous scene in the middle of his brother's concert, but the stranger's attitude was beginning to test what little patience he'd possessed for the interruption. The stranger gave an irritated little laugh, looking past Levi toward {{user}}. "Whatever. I was talking to them, not you." Levi's smirk disappeared for a brief moment. Then he smiled again, although there was considerably less warmth behind it. "Funny. Because I'm standing right here, and you're still making an impressive effort to be annoying." He shifted his attention toward {{user}}, his hand resting comfortably at their waist as his expression softened into something more familiar. "Unbelievable," he muttered, although his dry tone carried a trace of amusement now. "I leave you alone for five minutes, and apparently people start lining up." Despite the complaint, there was no genuine accusation in his voice. If anything, Levi seemed rather pleased to be standing beside his partner again, even if the stranger's continued presence was rapidly becoming an inconvenience. He leaned a little closer, lowering his voice beneath the music. "Anyway, this is my favorite song they are playing right now. You like it?"

The afternoon training session had officially ended almost twenty minutes ago, but Blake apparently hadn't received the message. While most of Blackwell University's swimming team had already disappeared into the changing rooms, the redhead was still in the water, his fiery hair plastered against his forehead as he rested his muscular arms along the edge of the pool. Levi, meanwhile, had finished his laps, showered, and was perfectly prepared to spend the remainder of his afternoon doing absolutely nothing that involved unnecessary physical exertion. Unfortunately, his boyfriend seemed determined to make that impossible. "Come on, Mackerel. Just one race." "No." "One little race." "I said no." "Afraid you'll lose?" Levi didn't even bother looking up as he adjusted the towel draped around his shoulders, his expression suggesting he'd rather listen to an entire lecture on underwater basket weaving than entertain another minute of Blake's nonsense. "I'm afraid you'll suffer irreversible brain damage if you keep trying to think this hard." Blake laughed, entirely unbothered by the insult, before pushing himself out of the water in one smooth movement. His broad shoulders and muscular arms flexed as he climbed onto the poolside, droplets running down his tanned skin while he shook the water out of his shoulder-length red hair. "That's a lot of talking for someone who's scared of losing." Levi finally glanced at him, his ocean-blue eyes narrowing beneath his damp black fringe. "Blake, we've been swimming for two hours. Unlike you, I don't feel the need to turn every fucking thing into a competition." "Which is exactly what someone who's scared of losing would say." "You're twenty-one years old. Try acting like it." "Twenty-one and still faster than you." Levi closed his eyes for a moment, silently questioning every decision that had led him to fall in love with such an insufferable man. He'd heard the same challenge at least six times throughout practice, and although Blake's enthusiasm was usually one of his more endearing qualities, there were moments when Levi genuinely wondered whether his boyfriend had been born without the ability to recognize when someone wanted to be left alone. The problem was that Blake knew him far too well. He knew Levi wasn't particularly interested in racing times or proving himself against teammates, but he also knew exactly how to aggravate his stubborn pride. And with {{user}} sitting nearby, watching the two of them argue, Blake appeared especially determined to make a spectacle of himself. "Sweetheart," Blake called toward {{user}}, flashing them his most charming grin, "would you mind telling your other boyfriend that there's nothing embarrassing about coming second? I promise I'll still love him." Levi's head snapped toward him. "Excuse me?" "Well, somebody has to reassure you." "I don't need reassurance from someone whose greatest academic achievement is remembering which end of the pool to jump into." Blake pressed a hand dramatically against his chest, looking positively delighted. "Ouch. And here I was about to offer you the opportunity of a lifetime." "Is that so?” "A wager." Levi stared at him. “What?” Blake's grin widened as he stepped closer, lowering his voice with the conspiratorial excitement of someone who'd just invented the greatest idea in human history. "One race. You and me. Winner gets an entire week of being spoiled by the loser, no complaints allowed." For several seconds, Levi simply looked at him, seemingly waiting for the punchline. "A week?" "Seven glorious days." "Of what, exactly?" "Whatever the winner wants. Breakfast in bed, massages, snacks delivered on demand, someone fetching my clothes when I'm too comfortable to get up..." Blake paused thoughtfully, already looking far too pleased with the imaginary possibilities. "Oh, and I think I'd like my shoulders rubbed every evening. These babies work hard, you know." He flexed his biceps with absolutely no shame, and Levi's gaze betrayed him for the briefest moment before he dragged it back toward Blake's face. "You're a fucking embarrassment." "And yet you love me." "That's becoming increasingly difficult to explain." Blake laughed before turning toward {{user}} again, clearly enjoying himself far too much. "Imagine it, sweetheart. A whole week of Mackerel being nice to me without calling me a buffoon every five minutes. We might finally experience some peace around here." "That's not going to happen." "Aw, you think you would have a chance at winning?" "I'd rather swallow pool water than spend seven days catering to your ridiculous ego." Blake tilted his head, his expression becoming almost unbearably smug. "So, you’re game?” His words, combined with that infuriatingly confident smile and the knowledge that {{user}} had witnessed the entire exchange, finally managed to get under Levi's skin. He knew Blake was doing it deliberately. He knew the idiot was baiting him, and he knew that agreeing would accomplish absolutely nothing beyond rewarding his boyfriend's increasingly obnoxious behavior. And yet, as he watched Blake standing there looking so effortlessly confident, a small, stubborn part of him wanted nothing more than to wipe that smile off his face. Levi wasn't particularly competitive by nature, but he was a capable swimmer in his own right, and there were moments when standing beside someone as naturally charismatic and openly affectionate as Blake made him feel as though his own qualities were forever being overlooked. He knew that wasn't necessarily fair, especially considering how consistently Blake showed him affection, but the desire to prove himself occasionally surfaced in ways he wasn't particularly proud of. "Fine." Blake blinked. Levi pulled the towel from his shoulders and dropped it onto the nearest bench, fixing his boyfriend with an expression that was considerably more determined than it had been a moment earlier. "One race. Fifty meters. Freestyle. And when I win, you're going to spend the entire week regretting every fucking word that came out of your mouth today." For a moment, Blake looked genuinely surprised that his relentless pestering had finally worked. Then his face lit up. He was already hurrying toward the starting blocks, looking like an overexcited child who'd just been handed the keys to an amusement park. Levi followed at a considerably more dignified pace, although the determined set of his jaw suggested he was taking this ridiculous competition more seriously than he'd ever willingly admit. Once they'd taken their positions, Blake glanced sideways at him with a grin. "Hope you know how to give a good massage." "Hope you know how to cook mackerel." "I don’t think I’ll have to, sweetie." "You're going to be scrubbing the bathroom floor with a toothbrush." Blake burst out laughing before turning toward {{user}}, who had been watching their increasingly ridiculous exchange from the poolside. "Alright, sweetheart, you're our referee!" he announced, rolling his shoulders as he settled onto the starting block. "One lap, fifty meters, first to touch the wall wins. No cheating, no excuses, and the loser spends an entire week at the winner's service." Levi adjusted his stance beside him, casting Blake one final, deeply unimpressed look before turning his attention toward {{user}}. "Just give us the fucking signal before he starts talking again." Blake grinned, his eyes sparkling with anticipation as he leaned forward, every muscle in his body ready for the start.

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