Fic: Say Something
Title: Say Something
Rated: G
Characters: Roger/Rafa, Nole
Warnings: none
Note: I have absolutely no reason to be angry with Nole for winning Basel today. But I am, none the less. XD This is my way of feeling a little bit better about it. Told from Nole's POV and set directly after the Basel 09 final.
Nole showered quickly. He wanted to be out in the locker room when Roger came in. He wanted to speak to him. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say. "Hey, I'm sorry I won today in your home town, at the tournament that you've won three times in a row. Oh, and by the way, I love you." He shook his head as he wrapped his towel around his waist. He was stupid. Just stupid to think that Roger Federer would ever see him as anything other then a rival.
His feelings for Roger had been simmering for months. He took every opportunity he could to seek him out, at whatever tournament they were attending together. Just to speak to him a few minutes, one on one. To look into Roger's beautiful eyes. To tease one smile out of the man. Those moments were all Nole could think about sometimes.
Just when he thought maybe, maybe he was getting a bit closer to Roger, his parents had made those horrible remarks about the king being dead. He had been furious with them for weeks. He had tried to apologize to Roger. All he got was an icy stare and then a tight smile. "It's ok. We can't help what our parents do and say."
And then there had been Miami. During their match, Roger had broken a racket in frustration. The tennis world was up-ended by it. He was sure Roger hated him afterward. Instead, Roger had been his usual polite, business-like self.
Lately, though, there seemed to be some softening of his attitude with Nole. Roger would speak first, offer him congratulations on winning, encourage him on if he lost. It had given Nole hope for something more. Today he was going to talk to Roger. To see if he could get a hint from Roger that there was any chance of something more coming out of their relationship.
He walked out to the locker room and saw Roger sitting on a bench. He had his phone out and was dialing. Nole held back slightly, moved back a bit behind the bank of lockers. It was wrong to eaves-drop and he wasn't sure why he was doing it.
"Hello Rafa?" Roger's voice was low and had a seductive tone to it. "Yes, I got your text message, but I was a bit busy with a trophy ceremony, you know?"
Roger was smiling. "Yes, I know I lost. I was there, remember? Djokovic played well, nothing exceptional. I just blew it."
That stung.
Roger laughed a little. "Yes, well, when I get to Paris later tonight you can show me exactly how disappointed you are with me, ok? What room are we in? I'll phone you when I land."
Roger... and Nadal? Fuck! This would explain why Rafa was always so cold to him. Had his flirting with Roger been so obvious that Rafa had picked up on it? He felt sick to his stomach.
He could hear Nadal speaking, but couldn't make out what he was saying.
Roger's smile broadened. "Yes, I do expect you to wait up for me."
Nole felt his chest tighten, felt his face flush. He came out from behind the lockers and stood in front of Roger.
Roger looked up at him and held his gaze. He smiled, "Hey Raf, I have to go now, ok? I need to shower and do my presser."
There was a pause, while Roger listened to whatever it was Nadal was saying. He never looked away from Nole.
"Yes, soon. I love you too." He closed his phone.
"Hey Nole, great match. You played fantastic."
Nole opened his mouth but couldn't find the words. He walked over to his locker.
He stood for a moment with his back to Roger.
"So, you and Rafa, huh?"
"Yeah, me and Rafa. It's always been Rafa, you know? My biggest rival. My best friend on the tour. And now..."
Nole turned to face Roger. He wanted to smile, couldn't find the strength for it.
"Well, that's good. I'm glad for both of you."
Roger smiled and nodded "Well, I'm going to shower. Congratulations, again." He turned and walked away.
Nole had won the tournament, but realized that he had lost something even more important along the way.
~ fin ~
Rated: G
Characters: Roger/Rafa, Nole
Warnings: none
Note: I have absolutely no reason to be angry with Nole for winning Basel today. But I am, none the less. XD This is my way of feeling a little bit better about it. Told from Nole's POV and set directly after the Basel 09 final.
Nole showered quickly. He wanted to be out in the locker room when Roger came in. He wanted to speak to him. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say. "Hey, I'm sorry I won today in your home town, at the tournament that you've won three times in a row. Oh, and by the way, I love you." He shook his head as he wrapped his towel around his waist. He was stupid. Just stupid to think that Roger Federer would ever see him as anything other then a rival.
His feelings for Roger had been simmering for months. He took every opportunity he could to seek him out, at whatever tournament they were attending together. Just to speak to him a few minutes, one on one. To look into Roger's beautiful eyes. To tease one smile out of the man. Those moments were all Nole could think about sometimes.
Just when he thought maybe, maybe he was getting a bit closer to Roger, his parents had made those horrible remarks about the king being dead. He had been furious with them for weeks. He had tried to apologize to Roger. All he got was an icy stare and then a tight smile. "It's ok. We can't help what our parents do and say."
And then there had been Miami. During their match, Roger had broken a racket in frustration. The tennis world was up-ended by it. He was sure Roger hated him afterward. Instead, Roger had been his usual polite, business-like self.
Lately, though, there seemed to be some softening of his attitude with Nole. Roger would speak first, offer him congratulations on winning, encourage him on if he lost. It had given Nole hope for something more. Today he was going to talk to Roger. To see if he could get a hint from Roger that there was any chance of something more coming out of their relationship.
He walked out to the locker room and saw Roger sitting on a bench. He had his phone out and was dialing. Nole held back slightly, moved back a bit behind the bank of lockers. It was wrong to eaves-drop and he wasn't sure why he was doing it.
"Hello Rafa?" Roger's voice was low and had a seductive tone to it. "Yes, I got your text message, but I was a bit busy with a trophy ceremony, you know?"
Roger was smiling. "Yes, I know I lost. I was there, remember? Djokovic played well, nothing exceptional. I just blew it."
That stung.
Roger laughed a little. "Yes, well, when I get to Paris later tonight you can show me exactly how disappointed you are with me, ok? What room are we in? I'll phone you when I land."
Roger... and Nadal? Fuck! This would explain why Rafa was always so cold to him. Had his flirting with Roger been so obvious that Rafa had picked up on it? He felt sick to his stomach.
He could hear Nadal speaking, but couldn't make out what he was saying.
Roger's smile broadened. "Yes, I do expect you to wait up for me."
Nole felt his chest tighten, felt his face flush. He came out from behind the lockers and stood in front of Roger.
Roger looked up at him and held his gaze. He smiled, "Hey Raf, I have to go now, ok? I need to shower and do my presser."
There was a pause, while Roger listened to whatever it was Nadal was saying. He never looked away from Nole.
"Yes, soon. I love you too." He closed his phone.
"Hey Nole, great match. You played fantastic."
Nole opened his mouth but couldn't find the words. He walked over to his locker.
He stood for a moment with his back to Roger.
"So, you and Rafa, huh?"
"Yeah, me and Rafa. It's always been Rafa, you know? My biggest rival. My best friend on the tour. And now..."
Nole turned to face Roger. He wanted to smile, couldn't find the strength for it.
"Well, that's good. I'm glad for both of you."
Roger smiled and nodded "Well, I'm going to shower. Congratulations, again." He turned and walked away.
Nole had won the tournament, but realized that he had lost something even more important along the way.
~ fin ~