Appetite (Chapter 8)
Title: Appetite
Main pairing: Rafael Nadal/Novak Djokovic
Other characters: Ferrer, Moya, A. Murray, Federer, Tursunov, Nalbandian, Almagro
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and this is a fiction.
Summary: Rafael and Novak play their first doubles match together while David gets dressed for dinner. Roger and Dmitry have a meal with Carlos and their conversation gets interesting.
From the previous chapter:
Novak had noticed that David was interested in his friend Murray so he had set up a dinner with them. Juan Carlos had poured water on Carlos and forced him to take off his shirt in the middle of the players’ lounge and several players had shown their interests.
Chapter 8: Intriguing dinner stories
“Entering Court 1, our number three seed, from Serbia, Novak Djokovic! And, our top seed, the world number one, from Spain, Rafael Nadal!”
The crowd was cheering as if it was almost the last match in the history of tennis and Novak felt himself get nervous by the minute.
“Do you normally have this many people when you play doubles?” He asked while Rafael was busy lining up his water bottles.
“No. I think today’s special, no?”
“Yes, I guess.” Novak answered, still stunned by the presence of so many spectators and photographers. He was getting used to this kind of atmosphere in the singles department but never did he think that he would be playing doubles in similar conditions.
Their opponents today were Rafael’s good friends, Feliciano Lopez and his long-term boyfriend Fernando Verdasco.
‘Well, if we can hide our love just a little better than those two, we’ll be fine.’ Novak put on his game face and grabbed his racquet.
The best chair umpire on the tour as far as both Rafael and Novak were concerned, Mr. Mohammed Layhani, explained the rules to them and the Serb had never been happier to see him. He liked the way Mohammed worked and he trusted his overrules.
‘It’s just another match, no big deal. Rafa won’t kill me even if I don’t play that well. It has nothing to do with our singles rankings, so everything’s fine.’
Almost going into self-hypnosis mode, he started warming up with Feliciano.
“You’re doing okay?” Rafael asked, during their short break after the warm-up. He could tell that the Serb was thinking too much.
“I’m not sure, but once we start playing, I think I’ll get better.”
“It’s okay even if we lose 6-1, 6-0, so don’t worry. I’m with you.”
That was all Novak needed to hear.
“Time. Novak Djokovic to serve.”
The world number three stood at the baseline and took a deep breath.
‘Okay, I did this more than a million times. Just bounce, toss and hit.’
“Fault!”
“Fault!”
Apparently, he needed more than a few soothing words.
“Love, fifteen.”
‘Great. What a start.’
He couldn’t believe that he had double-faulted on the first point of their match together. Rafael held out his hand and told him with his eyes that it was all right. Novak nodded and touched the warm palm.
Bang.
“Fifteen all.”
‘Now that sounds better.’
Happy with his service point, he smiled at his boyfriend.
‘Let’s show them what we can do!’
At first, Rafael and Novak struggled. It was much difficult than they had expected. After all, they were facing players who had bonded on court for almost seven years.
“We’re doing fine.” Rafael encouraged his partner as they lost the first set 6-1.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this bad.” Novak wiped off sweat with his towel.
“Second set will be different, no? It’s just like singles. If something doesn’t work, we try something different.”
They briefly discussed their plan and stood up from the bench as different players.
‘We are going to win this! Rafa has asked me to play with him. How often does that happen? I will not throw chance this away.’
Novak made sure that he was fully focused, and the second set started.
After more than forty minutes of battling, they were playing a tight tie-break. As Rafael pulled off a brilliant passing shot at set point, Novak shouted out.
“Yes!!”
The two high-fived each other, thrilled with joy, with Novak barely able to stop his hands from hugging his partner.
“One more set and we can play together again in the next match.” Rafael knew exactly what would motivate his boyfriend.
“Yeah, how awesome would that be? Second round match together in a Grand Slam!” Novak liked the sound of it. His head hurt from all the stress and excitement but he knew that with such an endearing partner, he could simply not lose.
And, showing tremendous effort, they eventually clenched the third set in yet another tie-break, going all the way to 14-12.
“Yaaayyy!!”
Rafael bent his knees and pumped his fist while Novak beat his heart before pulling his boyfriend into a passionate hug.
“Good job, Nole.”
“You too, Rafa!”
“We should part now.” Rafael gave his boy a gentle squeeze.
“Do we have to?”
“Yes, we always have the locker room.”
“All right.”
The two separated and the sense of sweet victory started to crawl inside the Serb’s mind.
‘So this is why so many players sign up for doubles or mixed doubles to play with their beloved ones. I totally get it now. I totally get it!’
As soon as Feliciano and Fernando disappeared to take a shower, Novak threw himself on his boyfriend in a corner of the locker room.
“We did it!! We couldn’t have much practice, but we still made it!”
Rafael didn’t have time to answer since their feverish kissing started right away but he didn’t mind it that much.
“I really liked that volley you hit in the first game of the second set.” Novak praised his partner between kisses.
“Thank you. I liked that tricky serve in the last tie-break.” Rafael praised back, wishing that he had two mouths so one could keep complimenting and the other one could keep kissing.
“Oh, you served much better than me overall.”
“Haha, you really did well, Nole.”
“You think? Do I get any prize?” Novak twinkled his eyes.
“No sex during Slams, no?” Rafael wriggled his eyebrows.
“Aww, but we have to make an exception!”
“No, we don’t. But as soon as we’re out of the tournament, I promise you that we can stay inside a locked room for a whole day.”
“Really? Do I even get to be on top?”
Rafael blushed at the mere idea of it.
“Come on, it’s been a while. I love it when you blush so much under me!” Novak was not going to drop the subject.
Interestingly enough, Rafael was perfectly fine when he was naked on top of his Serb but it was a totally different story when he was underneath him. He couldn’t even look into Novak’s eyes properly, too busy blushing with his whole body and Novak couldn’t get enough of that unbelievably shy version of him.
The Spaniard thought for a moment but a certain pair of lips were giving his neck too much love that he had no other option than to say yes.
“Okay, you win. If we both have a decent tournament, I’ll let you do whatever you want to.”
“Ah, thank you, Rafa! You’re the best!”
Novak grinned widely and skipped towards the showers.
Meanwhile, David Ferrer had finished his match early and was back at his hotel.
‘Did I eat too much at lunch? Why do I look fatter?’
He had been in front of the mirror for the past half an hour but he couldn’t find anything decent to wear for dinner. He was glad that Carlos, whom he shared the room with, was out with friends so that he could check himself in the mirror in peace.
‘It’s a casual dinner, so I have to look casual, no? Looking as good as possible but still, not looking too desperate.’
He was wearing a pair of blue jeans that looked casual all right but the problem was his black shirt. An oversized rose was covering more than half of his chest and David couldn’t decide whether he looked good in it or not.
‘Maybe it would’ve been better if Carlos didn’t go out.’
He made a long face and figured that he needed help.
‘Let’s see, Rafa and Nole aren’t back from their doubles match yet, and Feli and Nando are playing against them, and Carlos and Juanqui have gone out. Aww, not many Spaniards left, no? Ah, I’ll go ask Almagro.’
Five minutes later, David was standing in front of Nicolas’ mirror.
“You really think this looks better than my big rose?” He asked, wearing something that looked like a girl’s blue blouse.
“Sure. You look good with a few laces, no?”
“Laces are for girls!” David yelled.
“No, no, not anymore. This is supposed to counterbalance the strong masculine side of us. You know, we Spanish men look very strong, so we should show other people that we have a soft, tender side too!” Nicolas insisted but David could hardly agree.
“Don’t you have anything else?”
“Uh, let’s see. Other shirts are just simple T-shirts. Ah, I do have an orange silk shirt. Do you want to try?”
“Um, no thanks. I think I’ll go borrow someone else’s.”
“Well, you can go next door. Nalby’s staying there.”
So after another five minutes, David was standing in front of another David’s mirror.
“I thought I should wear long sleeves.”
“No, no. If you’re trying to impress that scrawny kid, you need to show off your arms.”
“He likes strong arms?”
“Don’t you know what he does after wins? He shows off his not-so-impressive biceps.”
“Of course, I know it. But I don’t see what that has to do with him liking strong arms.”
“Honey, he’s almost shouting Oh, I want a boyfriend with nice muscles!”
“But if that’s true, shouldn’t I be wearing sleeveless?”
The taller David shook his head. “No, you have to wear tight short-sleeves, so they would make your biceps stand out. Trust me on this one. You have no idea how many times this shirt has brought me pleasure.”
“Pleasure?”
“Oh, yeah, lots and lots of pleasure.” The Argentinean winked.
“Oh…”
The shyer David didn’t need any more information. He borrowed the tight, pink shirt and left the room, excited.
However, one successful shirt didn’t look like it had the power to save David from sinking into his seat at dinner.
He was sitting next to Rafael while Andy and Novak were sitting across them. At the beginning of the dinner, David had been thrilled that Andy chose to sit right across him but he was now regretting it a little. Andy was talking fast in his British accent and David could only understand half of what he was saying.
‘Oh, well, even if my English was perfect, I wouldn’t have been able to understand him anyway. His voice is so warm and his eyes look very hypnotizing. Ah…’
David was deafened and blinded by Andy’s beauty.
‘It’s a good thing that he’s not a classical beauty, no? Otherwise, I would’ve had too many rivals. I already have Del Potro, so I have to be careful.’
David frowned and it didn’t go unnoticed by his best friend and his boyfriend.
“What’s wrong, Ferru?” Rafael asked.
“Maybe Andy’s speaking too fast. He doesn’t understand.” Novak pointed out.
“Oh, sorry, I should’ve paid more attention. I could speak in Spanish, but then Novak wouldn’t understand at all.” Andy apologized and David flailed both arms.
“No, it’s my fault. I was thinking about other things. Sorry.”
But everyone at the table didn’t seem to believe him and soon, Rafael was explaining in Spanish all sorts of trivial things that they had been talking about.
“Ahahaha, who knew that I’d live till the day to see Rafa explaining something he understood in English? Ahhaha.” Novak laughed.
‘Says the one who’s not a native speaker either.’ Andy chuckled to himself. ‘Well, his English is good enough so I should let him off the hook.’
Since the two Spaniards were still explaining and listening, Andy took the opportunity to use the restroom. “Excuse me.”
As he saw his friend get up from his seat, Novak spoke to David in a serious tone. “Oh, I never got to tell you, Ferru, I’m so sorry about that fourth spot.”
“What fourth spot?” David asked, and then realized that the Serb was talking about the ranking.
“Oh, um, well, it’s okay. At least, it’s going to someone pretty. I mean, pretty good!”
While David ducked his head into his meal, Rafael looked at Novak.
‘I told you.’ The Serb mouthed before agreeing, “Yeah, Andy is pretty good. Now I should be careful.”
“Careful about what?” Andy was back.
“We were just talking about getting into trouble with other players on court.” Novak lied and Rafael nodded.
“Oh, yeah, I can definitely relate to that. You remember Del Potro saying mean things about my mom? I still can’t believe he did that.” Andy frowned.
“Maybe he just wanted to get your attention.” David offered.
All three of them looked at David.
“Okay, maybe not…” He had to mumble in a feeble voice.
Rafael felt bad for his best friend. He hadn’t been having a great season this year and it looked like he was even having a crush on the Scot.
‘How did I miss that? Maybe I was too busy keeping an eye on Novak.’
He looked at his boyfriend who was definitely eating a lot but he decided not to stress him out with food. It was a Grand Slam and every player knew what was best for him. Even if he was his boyfriend, Rafael didn’t want to say a word about Novak’s eating issues for the two weeks.
‘Well, since he’s been lonely, I clearly didn’t do a good job with him either, no? Ah, I should really look out for the ones I care.’
So Rafael decided to start making up for his mistakes by saving his poor friend.
“Hey, that shirt looks good on you, Ferru.”
“Yeah, it really does, don’t you think, Andy?” Novak jumped in immediately.
“Yes, pink looks quite good on you.” Andy noticed.
“Hehe, thanks!”
David was so going to return the shirt to the Argentinean with a nice gift. Then, he remembered something that the other David had said.
“Oh, I’m really working a lot in the gym these days. Really working hard to get great arms like Rafa.”
Rafael smiled and looked at his friend’s arms. “Hey, I don’t think you need better arms, no? They look great already.”
All eyes were on David’s arms now, and the shy Spaniard didn’t know what to do. He could feel Andy’s gaze travel along his biceps.
“Yeah, they look all right.” Andy agreed and Novak quickly grabbed his glass of water in order to contain his laughter. The dinner was getting funnier than he had expected.
“So, Ferru, you told me that you’re looking for a boyfriend, no?” Rafael pressed, determined to help him out.
“I did?” David asked back, confused.
Rafael poked him in the ribs.
“Oh, yes, I did.” David answered, rubbing his ribs.
“What kind of type are you looking for?” Novak asked, pretending to be very interested.
“Um, well…” Since he couldn’t say he’s sitting right in front of me, David had to come up with subtle English words.
“I wish we had the same career and I would like someone who is ranked high enough so I can meet him in same tournaments.”
“Good idea.” Rafael encouraged.
“Anything else? You like someone with a British accent, don’t you?” The evilness inside Rafael that rarely poked his head out was poking his head out now.
Novak had to pick up his glass of water again while Andy studied the two Spaniards.
‘What the hell is going on here?’ Andy thought but he didn’t ask anything, since he felt for David who looked like he was torn between killing his best friend and hiding under the table.
“It’s good to know that you appreciate the British accent. I think Hugh Grant did a great job making us sound good.” Andy replied and David was so grateful that he didn’t take Rafael’s words in a wrong way.
“Yes, yes, his accent sounds very hot.” David agreed, stepping on his best friend’s foot as hard as he could.
“Eek!” Rafael squeaked in pain and Novak couldn’t help it anymore.
“Ahahahaha!”
Not too far away from that restaurant, there was another Spaniard who was having an interesting dinner. Carlos had finally gotten out of Juan Carlos’ reach and was sharing a meal with Roger and Dmitry who couldn’t eat with his compatriots since he had played a prank on them.
“I’m telling you, he literally poured cold water on me. I’m not exaggerating here.”
“Ah, I can’t believe I missed that.” Roger giggled.
“He looked absolutely hot, all wet like that. Maybe poor Mischa got his fever by stealing glances at him in the showers.” Dmitry giggled, facing Roger.
“Hey, I’m right here.” Carlos pointed out but the two just kept laughing. “So it looks like I chose the wrong friends to hang out with again.”
“Aww, you found just the right ones, Carlos.” Roger patted the Spaniard on the arm. “We’ll think of a better way to get yourself a boyfriend, won’t we, Dima?”
“Sure. You know how smart I can be when I’m dealing with people.”
“Yes, that certainly explains why you’re here with us, away from the Russians.” The Spaniard grinned.
“Hey, it’s not fair to bring that up when I’m trying to help you.”
“Look, thanks for your attention, but I think I’m fine. Juanqui’s just overreacting, thinking that I cry every night because I’m too lonely.”
“You don’t?” The Russian asked and dodged stares by putting a loaf of bread in front of his face.
“Seriously, Carlos, you could always use a stable boyfriend. Look at Andy and me. We couldn’t be any happier.”
“Good for you.” Carlos smiled.
“Hey, do you have anyone in mind or you’re just waiting for someone to show up?” Dmitry asked, eating the bread that he had used as his shield.
“I don’t have anyone in mind. I just want someone who doesn’t talk too much like you.”
“Hey, don’t say that. Igor likes me because I talk this much. He says that there’s no time to feel blue when he’s with me. Ah, I miss him already.”
Carlos realized that he had really picked the wrong friends for dinner. Roger and Dmitry were already involved in a long-term relationship. He would just feel lonelier while talking to them.
“What about you go for the fresh, young ones? It’ll make you feel young, don’t you think? No strategies required. You just ask one of them out for dinner and they’ll be all happy to be eating with the great Carlos Moya.” Dmitry suggested.
“Nah, I can’t date babies. Trust me, I’ve seen enough of Rafa and Nole, and don’t get me wrong, they’re lovely together, but I don’t want to be with either one of those types.”
“Well, then, does any of the players who’ve been around for a while caught your attention in the past? Maybe you could give it another try if there is one.”
The Spaniard thought about Roger’s suggestion.
“Actually, there are a few.”
“Really?” Roger and Dmitry sang in unison.
“Yes, but those are long stories.”
“I know that you had things going on with Lleyton and T.J.” Roger spoke carefully.
“T.J? Thomas Johansson?” Dmitry asked. “How come I never knew that?”
“Because it was a long time ago.” Carlos smiled a bitter smile.
“Anyone else that cross your mind?” Roger asked in a gentle voice.
“Well…”
At the hesitation, both Dmitry and Roger knew that there was someone in the Spaniard’s mind.
“Who is it? We’ll keep your secret!” Dmitry was excited as a seventeen year old school girl.
“I haven’t played against him for six years or so. But this summer, I met him on court and I just couldn’t play.” Carlos let out a deep sigh.
Now the two players had to think of all the experienced opponents that Carlos had met this summer. Dinner was just getting interesting.