Re: [Capital University: Misha & Damian]
Damian did not like the chlorine pool, as far as bodies of water went. He preferred fresh water lakes and ponds, then saltwater, then rivers and streams, then manmade pools altered by extreme chemicals. He did not like the taste or smell of it, and he held no nostalgic memories. But, even this was better than nothing, yes? Worse than even the chlorine was having nothing at all to swim in. And Damian did find the water peaceful in its way. (That said, he was heavily biased as he had spent a decade floating, and the mere action of this was enough to be soothing to him.)
Misha came out to the pool, sat upon the edge, and slid in. Damian watched him unblinkingly, bobbing there, feet far from touching the ground. He spectated as Misha wet his hair and he spectated as blond was pushed back slick and sticking to the shape of Misha's skull. His own hair was coiling and dripping. "I am not worried about it." He did not care if the pants were tight. He desired them all the same.—Stupidly, he treaded nearer to Misha as the boy leaned against the floating devices between lanes. The fingers in his waistband drew him closer still and he lifted his chin from the water. "We will go on three, yes? It is not complicated." He pulled the fingers from his waistband, lifted them above the water to kiss them, then released Misha and centered himself in his lane.
He held onto the lip of the pool and twisted to press feet against the wall, hands holding him, reaching behind him. "Like this." He waited for Misha to do as instructed. And if and when the boy did, Damian counted down, and on three, he sprang forward, propelled by the shift of muscle in his legs and feet, and he was not slow. He was a strong swimmer and fast, all tight muscle and a near-instinctual ease in the water. He was not merciless in this race, as it had been Misha's bet.