#swim lessons

“No, no, no, no. Please, this can’t be happening right now.” You whine as you try to pull the two torn edges along one hip back together, only for the strap on your opposite shoulder to give as well. “Oh come on.” 

The sound of your name being called by Remus echoes through the woman’s changeroom and you close your eyes in horror. 

“Alright? We’re ready for you whenever.” He calls casually. You have to count down from five in order to stop your voice from coming out all pitchy. 

“Yep! I’ll, erm, I’ll be right out!”

You were only half successful. 

“Alright.” He replies, and you can hear the smile in his voice. 

Fuck, you couldn’t exactly go out in these scraps of nylon. You dump your tote bag over hoping for a spare set of clothes but – typical of your luck – the only outfit you brought with you today is the one you wore, the one you’ll have to wear home. 

“Can’t exactly swim in those…” You mutter to yourself, shaking out your towel to see…

“No.” You murmur as you pinch a thin, skimpy string between your thumb and forefinger. “I can’t…”

“You need a hand in there, doll?” Sirius calls then. “You’re worrying the masses out here.” 

“I’m coming!” You let out, shrill. 

“Wait, do you actually need a hand in there?” He continues, levity seeping from his tone at your obvious stress.

“No! No,” you correct, clearing your throat, “I’m fine, I’ll- I’ll be there in a minute.” 

He makes a noncommittal sound and slaps the door frame before retreating back into the pool, and with one more steadying breath, you change out of your tatters and into your downright indecent two piece sunning ensemble. 

You’re hit with the humidity of the pool room immediately as you step out of the changeroom, the quiet hum of the three instructors' conversation coming to a halt as Sirius spots you, nodding at you in greeting and causing the other two to look your way. 

“We were worried you got lost!” James greets enthusiastically as he slides off of the rather precarious stack of flutter boards he was sitting on. “Ready to swim?”

You shift your weight awkwardly from one foot to the other, chancing a peek at the water as you hold your towel against your body like you might risk indecency charges should you drop it. 

You honestly might. 

Remus – ridiculous, clever, insightful Remus – tilts his head at you in ask.

“I, erm, well…I- I was wondering…do you lot think you could turn around while I get in?”

With this, the other two boys’ heads go the way of Remus’; three heads tilted at you like a litter of inquisitive puppies. 

“You’re feeling brave enough to jump in today?” Sirius teases, though the furrow of his brows suggest he’s still trying to sniff you out. 

“Are you naked under there, love?” Remus asks, chuckling when your face scrunches in embarrassment. 

“No, I’m not…naked.”

“But…” James encourages. 

“But I- well…my swimsuit tore and…and I don’t have any extra clothes that I could spare to get wet, so- so I had to settle for…”

“Well come on doll, spit it out. You’ve got us on the edge of our seats.”

You scowl at Sirius but soften at Remus’ elbow jutting into his friend’s ribs. 

“I’ve had to settle for my bikini and it’s…well, it doesn’t exactly leave a lot – or anything – to the imagination.” 

The three boys share a look before Remus speaks up. 

“Well, I mean…we’re hardly strangers to articles of swimwear.”

“Or the female form- agh.” 

You and Remus turn to see Sirius glaring at James as he rubs his sore ribs. 

“Angel, we close our eyes and let you slip into the water, and then what?” James continues, shooting Sirius one more impenitent look over his shoulder as he approaches you. “We can’t exactly do our jobs if we can’t look at you.” 

“If you’re really uncomfortable, these two can leave.” Remus offers, gesturing towards the two others. You have to give them credit for their ability to pretend that the idea doesn’t disappoint them. 

“It’s not…you guys that make me uncomfortable, I just…”

“Feel a little too exposed for lessons.” Sirius guesses, earning him a nod of agreement from you. 

“Do you wanna borrow a t-shirt?” Remus offers, causing James to perk up.

“I have a few extras in my gym bag! Would that help?”

You feel your brows migrate up your head as you look between the three of them. 

“Would that…be okay?”

“It might make it a bit harder to swim but if that’ll make you comfortable, we’re not going to let anything happen to you.” Remus agrees readily, seeing James hurry towards the office, slipping in a small puddle of pool water.

“Oi! No running by the pool!” Remus hollers after him, Sirius snickering before he turns his attention back to you.

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” The long-haired bloke asks you then, and you figure – in for a penny, in for a pound – shrugging your shoulders and letting your towel drop. 

James exits the office right at that moment, looking up only to come to a skidding stop and slipping in the exact same spot that he nearly wiped out in moments before. Remus snorts a laugh as he looks down at his feet instead of you and folds his lips between his teeth to keep him from smiling, Sirius nods with a salacious smirk as he gives you an appreciative once over, and James openly gapes at you.

It’s probably misleading to refer to what you’re currently wearing as any type of swimwear at all, really. It’s a few measly triangles of fabric held together by a sinfully thin string, one gentle wave away from public indecency charges. Great for catching rays, terrible for…well, anything else. 

“James?” Remus taunts, chancing a quick peek up at you to shoot you a wink, “are you gonna give the lass your shirt?”

“I-right, yeah, yes. Sorry.” He fumbles, hastily making his way over and handing you his extra t-shirt.

You silently thank James for his body-building physique, seeing his t-shirt wide enough and long enough to cover you comfortably enough. 

“Thank you, James. I feel better now.”

“Yeah?” Remus asks, smiling uninhibitedly at you. “Ready to swim?”

And for the first time, you find yourself nodding your head yes; you really are ready to swim.

You’re just lowering yourself into the pool when you hear Sirus whisper “fuckin’ hell, Jamie; that’s almost worse than the bikini.”

“M’gonna have to hold a flutter board in front of my crotch for the rest of the evening like a fuckin’ teenager.”

It was long overdue, I was supposed to start learning at four years old like everyone else, but no, here I am, putting on my one piece swim suit and getting ready for my first ever swim class at, well…let’s just say not four years old.

The class starts at seven and only lasts for an hour. It’s 6:47 and I’m ready, waiting on one of the benches beside the pool till our coach arrives. The pool is empty besides some others waiting as well, and a few little girls, finishing up their own swim class. I fuss over my towel, placing it on my legs. I wonder if I chose the appropriate swim suit to wear…it didn’t seem right to wear a bikini to swim class. Most of my bikinis wouldn’t stand a lot of swimming action.

It’s only a few minutes when I notice a man walk in, with his swim trunks on and a T-shirt and most importantly a whistle around his neck. He talks to a red haired guy and they shake each other’s hands in a familiar way. He takes a few steps towards the centre of the pool, and he takes off his shirt from the bottom, sliding it over his head. Oh…my…he is ripped. He is so ripped. I think I can see eight abs and his biceps are huge. 

He flings his T-shirt on a chair, and I have the urge to go over and scream like a fan girl. He stretches his neck a little side to side, and then his arms up over his head. His swim trunks lower just a bit, enough to see a V-line. He then elegantly plunges into the pool with an Olympian style dive without so much of a splash into the water. I’d think he was a show-off if he wasn’t so gorgeous. Maybe he’s both.

When he surfaces, he pushes his wet hair out of his face in one fluid motion. A hear a few snickers from beside me, and it’s a little girl, probably finishing up her class just before us, chuckling at me. That’s when I realised that my mouth was so shamefully open. I slam my mouth shut, my teeth clattering against each other. A whistle blows throughout the pool, the sound bouncing off the walls. 

“Alright, everyone my name is Coach Wood and let’s not dilly dally any longer, everyone start getting into the pool from the shallow side over there and don’t try to come to close, the pool gets deeper with every step you take, if you take to use the ladder, please do,” he says, pointing over to the left side of the pool. I stand up and firmly place my towel where I was sitting, properly folded. 

I walk over to the shallow end and take a peek to try to see how far down I’ll have to go. I nod my head seeing that it’s maybe a few feet in. I sit down on the walls surrounding the pool and I put my legs in, trying not to shiver when I feel the cold water. I take a breath and hop in. The water reaches the space between my hips and belly button, and it is freezing. I take a few deep breaths and try to withstand the temperature. 

Wood claps his hands, quieting down the chatter especially of a couple that joined this class together. I take a look at the crowd of eight other people and that’s when I notice that everyone is coupled off. Maybe I should’ve brought a friend of my own. We each walk a few steps till the water is just a little bit higher for each of us. I notice some people on my left shivering at the temperature of the water. 

I guess we should take it as a good sign that none of the little girls peed inside the pool. 

Wood announces, “Why don’t we start off the ice breaker of sorts while our bodies adjust to the water’s temperature. Everyone, say your name and why you decided to learn to swim.” 

His eyes pass everyone, one by one, until they land on me. He grins and motions for me to start, saying, “Why don’t you go ahead first?” 

“Hello, you can call m-me Birdie,” I stutter, noticing the beautiful, encouraging grin on Wood’s face. I flush harder, if it’s possible to even grow hot when the water is this cold. I look away, deciding to look at anyone but our coach. 

“I- uh, I guess I thought about it first when my friend was out with my other friend on a vacation last month that I couldn’t go to cause work and my friend, she doesn’t know how to swim but she promised she’d stay in the shallow end, but the ocean isn’t very intent on keeping anyone’s promises and well, she’s okay now, but really gave my other friend and herself a scare,” I take a deep breath and the ramble continues, “Then I saw the flyer for this class online and thought, well, okay I guess maybe it’s time to learn.” 

“That’s a good reason, though by the time you’re all done with these classes, you should be able to navigate through these situations well,” he says, with a lot of confidence. The introductions continue, a father says he wants to learn in case his daughter gets stuck in a tough situation, another saying that it’s just for fun and another myriad of reasons. 

“Let’s start! Everyone go over to the wall, walk please, and face it and grab one because we’re going to start with some kicks,” Wood says, and I stare a little bit too long after he’s finished his sentence, hypnotised by his thick accent. When everyone turns to head over to the wall, the water splashing loudly, that’s when I unfreeze and make my way there too. 

Wood gives us all instructions and I follow them to a T. I grab the wall firmly with both my hands and I let my body rise up to the surface with its natural buoyancy. I wait till I’m comfortable enough and start to kick my feet, keeping my legs as straight as I can. Wood passes by everyone and I simply focus on the action, trying not to freak out with the water this high, and put my face down, staring into the pool’s bottom. 

“Ahh-hhhhhh,” I squeak when I suddenly feel a hand on my back, I lose my grip on the wall and my balance over the water’s surface, and suddenly my face plunges inside the pool. I sputter, and feel my body be oriented by something other than my kicks. I take a deep breath as soon as my feet touch the pool’s bottom and cough out some water. Wood apologises, “Sorry if I started you there, lass, you alright?” 

I sniffle and nod my head, I can’t believe that I nearly drowned in the shallow end of the pool while doing absolutely nothing. My body heats up quickly when I notice Wood’s large hands encompassing each of my forearms. His large hands with slender fingers and- “I’m alright, sorry.” 

I move my hands away, pushing the stray hair away from my face, and off the skin. He clears his throat and he takes a step back. His voice is low, and difficult to fully hear with everyone focused on kicking the water with all their might, “your back was arched, you should try to keep it as straight as you can when kicking.” 

I nod my head again, feeling the cool droplets of water drip from my hair onto my hot cheeks. He leans in closer to me and instinctively I move a little backwards. He asks, voice even lower, “Are you uncomfortable with me touching you-”

Touch me all you want, everywhere you like-

“Because if you are we can find another way or another coach,” 

“No!” I exclaim, loudly, too loud actually, it echos a bit, and I look down before quickly replying, “No, I’m not uncomfortable. I was just startled, that's all.” 

“Good, now, keep going, you were doing a good job. Just remember to keep your back straight, Birdie,” he says one last time before heading to the others giving them feedback. I try not to swoon at the way he says my name. I turn around, facing the wall again before getting on with the exercise. A man with red hair beside me chuckles before saying, “He’s single by the way.”

“I-what?” I ask, confused, though the knowledge is valuable. I can’t be that obvious, can I? I bit my lip and the man re-explains, “I’m Percy, I’m Oliver’s friend. I happen to be very good at noticing and understanding social cues and I noticed that you looked interested and I noticed that he didn’t look too put off by you, so, I’m telling you, he’s single.” 

I scrunch my face up in embarrassment and look to the side mumbling some sort of thanks, dunking my face in the pool while grabbing onto the wall tightly, trying to cool off my red face. After a few minutes of this exercise we head to the centre of the pool a bit more shallow, till the water is up to our chests. The instructions were to put our feet firmly on the ground and then take in a deep breath, place our face into the water and blow out the air, whichever way we liked. 

I start doing the exercise, breathing in above water through my nose, clenching my fist at my sides and then placing my face into the water only a little bit, till it reaches my ears and letting out a bit of air through my mouth, bubbling reaching the surface by the time I’m up as well. I repeat it many times, slowly, my fists don’t clench every time and I take in deeper breaths, spending a longer time letting them out underwater. 

“Try to take even deeper breaths, and really feel it in your chest,” Wood instructs, and I nod my head, adamant on taking in all the air that I could. He shakes his head, tutting, biting his sexy lip between his teeth. He says, “Try to really feel it, right here.” 

He points to a place a little lower than at the centre of his chest and he demonstrates, taking in a deep breath till the place that he’s pointing to rises, and then he lets it out slowly. And my nightmares become reality when he repeats the action again, but this time, grabbing my finger-no my entire hand and placing it in the same place his hand was. My breath hitches in my throat, and he presses my hand more firmly into his defined chest. He takes a deep breath in and stops halfway to say, “Come on, take a breath with me.”

I nod my head along and start to inhale the same time as he does and it’s an exceptionally long time. Maybe it just felt that way because of his eyes staring deeply into mine. Such a mesmerising shade of hazel. He starts to let the breath out and I do the same, my breath scratching in the middle. 

“Did you get that?” 

No. “Yes.” 

“Okay, lass, keep going, I’ll go see what the rest of them are doing,” he says, and walks away, lowering my hand slowly off his chest, so slowly that my finger tips touch his stomach. He walks-swims off and it takes me a few minutes to catch my own breath. I look at the clock that’s hanging on the wall only a little bit away, only fifteen minutes left till the end of class. I subtly lift my hands up to my face and feel the heat emanating from them. Ohhh, I don’t think I’ll survive to the end of class. 

Worst of all, I think I may have a crush on my swim coach. 

a/n: I hope you enjoyed reading! If you think this didn’t completely suck, feel free to check out my other masterlists. You can also support the blog or buy me a coffee here.

Birdie Masterlist here

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