Fic: let's not kill the karma
Title: let's not kill the karma
Pairing: Rafa/Novak
Rating: PG
Wordcount: ~420
Summary: "There's a she-wolf in your closet, Rafa, and sometimes you have to let it out so it can breathe." Crack and terrible, terrible jokes based on Shakira lyrics ahoy.
Novak's known about the Shakira video for months already by the time the blogs get hold of the news and sneak previews of the video itself, but that doesn't stop people from flooding Novak's inbox with daily doses of capslock (although, to be fair, most of the emails are from Jelena, with subject lines like 'omg', 'OMG', and 'OMGGGGG' depending on Rafa's state of undress in the most recent teaser).
He texts Rafa, do you know how many people have emailed me about how you're sleeping with shakira? i hate you, because baiting Rafa is his second most favourite sport in the world, and because when once-in-a-lifetime opportunities come along like this, they are too precious and beautiful to waste. He counts about three minutes before his phone rings, and when it does, he smiles and answers without even checking the caller. "Hello?"
Rafa's voice comes through, quick and edgy. "You know they are not true, yes? The articles, I mean."
Novak bites back a smile. "Well," he says, on an exaggerated sigh. "At first I was a little upset, but it's fine, you know, I understand. There's a she-wolf in your closet, Rafa, and sometimes you have to let it out so it can breathe."
"I'm serious!"
"I know! This is no joke. This is lycanthropy."
"Nole, for -"
"Just remember not to confuse her breasts with mountains. I hear that doesn't go down well."
"Sometime I wish I did not even know you," Rafa says, defeated.
"Yeah, but honestly," Novak says, "you have to be just a little bit impressed at how I know all these lyrics, right?"
Rafa makes a hmphing sound, and Novak can hear the scrunched-up bitch-face expression that goes with it. "Using the internet to - ah, google? - that is not impressive. For serious, Nole, this does not bother you?"
Novak laughs. "Are you joking? My boyfriend is rolling around half-naked with Shakira. It's like Christmas came ten months early for me."
"You are a bad man," Rafa says.
"You love me," Novak says, with relish, because they both know it's true. "I can tell. Your hips don't lie."
"Go defend a title, maybe," Rafa says.
"And you get your ass in shape. I miss you," Novak admits, and then he tries, he really does, but it's just too perfect. "Although, don't you think it's actually sort of lucky you were born that far away? It's like we can both make fun of distance. Rafa? Hey - are you still there?
Pairing: Rafa/Novak
Rating: PG
Wordcount: ~420
Summary: "There's a she-wolf in your closet, Rafa, and sometimes you have to let it out so it can breathe." Crack and terrible, terrible jokes based on Shakira lyrics ahoy.
Novak's known about the Shakira video for months already by the time the blogs get hold of the news and sneak previews of the video itself, but that doesn't stop people from flooding Novak's inbox with daily doses of capslock (although, to be fair, most of the emails are from Jelena, with subject lines like 'omg', 'OMG', and 'OMGGGGG' depending on Rafa's state of undress in the most recent teaser).
He texts Rafa, do you know how many people have emailed me about how you're sleeping with shakira? i hate you, because baiting Rafa is his second most favourite sport in the world, and because when once-in-a-lifetime opportunities come along like this, they are too precious and beautiful to waste. He counts about three minutes before his phone rings, and when it does, he smiles and answers without even checking the caller. "Hello?"
Rafa's voice comes through, quick and edgy. "You know they are not true, yes? The articles, I mean."
Novak bites back a smile. "Well," he says, on an exaggerated sigh. "At first I was a little upset, but it's fine, you know, I understand. There's a she-wolf in your closet, Rafa, and sometimes you have to let it out so it can breathe."
"I'm serious!"
"I know! This is no joke. This is lycanthropy."
"Nole, for -"
"Just remember not to confuse her breasts with mountains. I hear that doesn't go down well."
"Sometime I wish I did not even know you," Rafa says, defeated.
"Yeah, but honestly," Novak says, "you have to be just a little bit impressed at how I know all these lyrics, right?"
Rafa makes a hmphing sound, and Novak can hear the scrunched-up bitch-face expression that goes with it. "Using the internet to - ah, google? - that is not impressive. For serious, Nole, this does not bother you?"
Novak laughs. "Are you joking? My boyfriend is rolling around half-naked with Shakira. It's like Christmas came ten months early for me."
"You are a bad man," Rafa says.
"You love me," Novak says, with relish, because they both know it's true. "I can tell. Your hips don't lie."
"Go defend a title, maybe," Rafa says.
"And you get your ass in shape. I miss you," Novak admits, and then he tries, he really does, but it's just too perfect. "Although, don't you think it's actually sort of lucky you were born that far away? It's like we can both make fun of distance. Rafa? Hey - are you still there?