Smallish fic
Title: none
Rated: R
Pairing: Roger/Rafa + Tio Toni (wtf??)
Disclaimer: Fabrications and alterations of real life events to suit my twisted purposes.
Toni opened the door to his nephew's hotel suite. It was dark, but he could hear noises from the bedroom and he saw the light was on. Rafa must be watching TV. The door was slightly ajar and he thought nothing of opening it and walking right on in.
Rafael was naked and bent over the hotel desk, his hands and ankles secured and immobile. Beside him, an equally naked Roger Federer was in the middle of repeatedly smacking Rafa's round, firm ass with a tennis raquet.
"Mios Dios!", Toni exclaimed, taking in the sight before him.
"Tio Toni! No! Is not what you think!" Rafa spluttered and stammered, craining his neck around to see his Uncle.
Roger was frozen in place, raquet held out and ready to swing again, eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights. "Toni, let me explain..."
Toni strode over to the pair, a scowl on his face. "You!", he said, pointing at Roger. "Show me the forehand!"
"Wha... what?" Roger was confused.
"The forehand. Show me. I see you swing forehand when I come in the door. Show me again!"
There really wasn't any arguing with Toni Nadal. Rafa whimpered and Roger assumed his position behind the young Spaniard once again. He raised the raquet and landed it squarely on it's target. The pattern from the strings made lovely little squares on Rafa's soft flesh. Roger caught himself half smiling and reaching out to run a finger over them.
"No! The grip, move the grip here." Toni had stepped up behind Roger and was adjusting his fingers slightly on the raquet handle. "Si! Good. Now try again."
"Tio Toni, por favor!" Rafa let out a string of Spanish, while his face turned a pretty shade of pink. Toni responded by admonishing the boy to be quiet.
Roger swung again. And again. And again. Toni watched carefully, stroking his chin, eyebrows drawn in concentration, nodding in approval.
Roger smiled broadly.
"Yes! Yes, I see what you mean!" Roger was clearly excited (in every sense of the word). "I can feel the difference!"
"Me as well," moaned Rafa. "Is enough training already, Tio!"
Toni smacked his nephew's ass. "He complains too much, yes, Roger? He need more discipline, I think." He stepped back a few paces and looked at Roger.
"Now. Show me how you can serve."
Roger fainted.
Rated: R
Pairing: Roger/Rafa + Tio Toni (wtf??)
Disclaimer: Fabrications and alterations of real life events to suit my twisted purposes.
Toni opened the door to his nephew's hotel suite. It was dark, but he could hear noises from the bedroom and he saw the light was on. Rafa must be watching TV. The door was slightly ajar and he thought nothing of opening it and walking right on in.
Rafael was naked and bent over the hotel desk, his hands and ankles secured and immobile. Beside him, an equally naked Roger Federer was in the middle of repeatedly smacking Rafa's round, firm ass with a tennis raquet.
"Mios Dios!", Toni exclaimed, taking in the sight before him.
"Tio Toni! No! Is not what you think!" Rafa spluttered and stammered, craining his neck around to see his Uncle.
Roger was frozen in place, raquet held out and ready to swing again, eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights. "Toni, let me explain..."
Toni strode over to the pair, a scowl on his face. "You!", he said, pointing at Roger. "Show me the forehand!"
"Wha... what?" Roger was confused.
"The forehand. Show me. I see you swing forehand when I come in the door. Show me again!"
There really wasn't any arguing with Toni Nadal. Rafa whimpered and Roger assumed his position behind the young Spaniard once again. He raised the raquet and landed it squarely on it's target. The pattern from the strings made lovely little squares on Rafa's soft flesh. Roger caught himself half smiling and reaching out to run a finger over them.
"No! The grip, move the grip here." Toni had stepped up behind Roger and was adjusting his fingers slightly on the raquet handle. "Si! Good. Now try again."
"Tio Toni, por favor!" Rafa let out a string of Spanish, while his face turned a pretty shade of pink. Toni responded by admonishing the boy to be quiet.
Roger swung again. And again. And again. Toni watched carefully, stroking his chin, eyebrows drawn in concentration, nodding in approval.
Roger smiled broadly.
"Yes! Yes, I see what you mean!" Roger was clearly excited (in every sense of the word). "I can feel the difference!"
"Me as well," moaned Rafa. "Is enough training already, Tio!"
Toni smacked his nephew's ass. "He complains too much, yes, Roger? He need more discipline, I think." He stepped back a few paces and looked at Roger.
"Now. Show me how you can serve."
Roger fainted.