Love from Belgrade
Title: Love from Belgrade
Pairing: Ernests Gulbis/Novak Djokovic
Rating: PG
Word count: 1,754
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and this is a fiction.
Summary: Novak responds to Ernests’ letter.
Author’s note: This is a sequel to “Love from Munich”.
“Goodnight, coach!”
“Goodnight, Ernie.”
Ernests saw his childhood coach Pilic get inside a cab and turned around to walk back to his hotel. He had enjoyed dinner with the Croatian mentor after mourning all day over yesterday’s loss when he had been up a set and a break against the local hero. He was still looking for a new coach and couldn’t remember the last time he had reached a third round unless some dedicated fans reminded him.
Thankfully, Pilic had recommended a few coaches at dinner and had even told him that he would talk to one of them and ask if he was interested. It was very comforting to have such an important figure look after him when he could really use some help.
‘I hope that talk goes well. He had coached some decent players before.’
Ernests avoided getting tripped over an unidentifiable piece of trash and moved on to another thing the Croatian had helped him with. Unlike his worried mother, he had given the young player his blessing about his decision on moving in with Novak. Having coached both players when they were in his academy, Pilic seemed to be exceptionally happy to hear the news.
‘There’s nothing like happiness shared with somebody else, somebody who can be happy for you wholeheartedly, not a single ounce of envy in his mind.’
His mentor’s words rang in his ears and he had to admit that the best thing that had happened to him in these recent years was having Novak by his side. He believed that they had a strong, stable relationship and could only foresee deeper understanding and more affection towards each other in the upcoming future.
‘Ah, Nole… I can’t believe he actually said yes! I’ll be living in Monte Carlo from now on! How awesome is that?’
Happy to think of his bright future at least off the court, the twenty year old looked up at the dark sky.
‘No bright stars in the cities these days. Too bad.’
Disappointed at the absence of pretty stars, Ernests put his hands in the pockets of his black jacket and looked around before deciding that it was safe to hum.
“Hmm… mm hmm…”
If there was no Novak and no stars to keep him company, he figured that music could give it a try.
“Mm… nanana…”
Then, he added lyrics.
“Monte Carlo~ the city with many, many tennis players~ there’s Nole~ there’s Mario~ there’s Marat~ there’s Tomas~ there’s…”
Bleep.
The song came to an abrupt end when the boy’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket.
‘Ah, I so wish it was Novak.’
Ernests pulled out his phone and mumbled a magic spell that he still remembered from a Harry Potter movie.
‘Oh Jesus, I must be talented in magic! Who knew?’
His boyfriend had sent him a video message from the Serbian Open’s opening ceremony.
‘Wow, fireworks! So pretty!’
It was raining stars just like he had wished for.
Ernests could totally picture the Serb with his black cell phone, grinning up at the sky like a little boy. He wished he knew what Novak had worn for the ceremony but it didn’t hurt to imagine him naked.
‘Oh, yum…’
Not much to his surprise, thinking about his boyfriend naked had shortened the distance to the hotel and he was in the lobby in a flash.
“This is for you, sir. It came through emergency mail.”
A guy who looked a little less cute than a certain Serb handed him an envelope which had Novak’s name on it.
“Thank you!”
Waiting for the elevator to arrive, Ernests opened the envelope and saw that the world number three had written him a letter.
‘Aww… How nice of him when he doesn’t like writing.’
First, he checked what Novak had written at the very end. There had to be the word ‘love’ somewhere in the sentence. That was how love letters were supposed to end.
‘Good! This can’t be too bad.’
Then, he counted how many hearts he had got. No matter how girly it sounded, he liked the shape of the heart. He even had a pair of underwear with hearts all over them. He liked them and even though Novak laughed in the beginning, they seemed to be growing on him.
‘Ok. Four is a decent number… even though I would’ve preferred five. Anyway, let’s read.’
He jumped on the bed and started reading.
Dear Ernie ♥,
How are you feeling today? Any better? I won’t ask if you miss me because I know you do. If last night’s phone call was any indication, I can’t be wrong about it. And, you know I miss you too. I need to see what’s underneath those falcons ASAP. Madrid is just around the corner but it feels so far away and I can’t wait to see you again. Oh, in case I run out of space like you (even if I have a great sense of space), I’ll say the most important thing right now rather than save it for the end. I love you!! And, I wish I could hold you in my arms to make you feel better! ♥
By the way, I bet you didn’t expect me to write. Ha! Surprise, surprise! You know that I barely update the blog on my website and I leave the shortest notes on the bedside table when I have to leave you early in the morning. But I felt like you could use a nice surprise after going through so many hard days so I’m writing this even if I won’t get any presents for my birthday. I’m not pouting about it or anything but what exactly has swine flu have to do with me not getting any presents? Don’t get me wrong. I don’t need anything else other than you. I’m just curious, that’s all.
Oh, and forgive me if my letter is much more organized and structured than yours (!!). I’m just that good when I don’t even write often and you must be very inspiring! Okay, enough joking. I can do that better on the phone. Did you get my video message? I hope that it put a small smile on your face. I miss your smiles, Ernie. Don’t worry about tennis. I’m sure you’ll find the right coach and you’ll be back on track in no time. I have faith in you.
Now I have to tell you about how things are going here. I can’t really explain how I felt during the opening ceremony but it was something near extraordinary and overwhelming. I wish time would fly already so I can play my first match on center court. It’s just incredible to even look at the new stadium. I still remember the ten year old Ana complaining about how hard it is to practice in empty swimming pools and now, here we are with an ATP tournament. Too bad it isn’t a joint one though. She would’ve been in tears of joy. I can only hope that we’ll get a WTA tournament too, someday before she retires.
I had a chance to chat with other players and they didn’t seem to have major complaints about how the tournament is going. It rained a lot on the first day but we managed to deal with it pretty nicely and my brothers are having a great time here as well. People are even asking Djordje for autographs and you have no idea how much he enjoys it. Last night, after I talked to you on the phone, I caught him practicing autographs in his room! I really hope all that hard work will pay off!
Ah, I forgot to mention that I had lunch with Andreas yesterday and he told me that he and Simone were doing their best to play in the same tournaments. They’ve been working on it this year and so far, he said that it’s absolutely great. The two even played doubles together a few times and I find it quite adorable. Perhaps we could try matching our tournaments too when you don’t have a coach to say no! Maybe we could talk about this next week after… you know, doing what we do best (♥) over and over again (Ah, I can’t wait!).
By the way, journalists kept asking about you. They heard it from somewhere about you moving in with me and asked every two minutes if we were seeing each other. I said that I was just offering one of my guest rooms to a childhood friend but I guess I didn’t manage to hide my grin too well. So if you run into a really badly photoshopped picture of you and me on some crappy magazine cover, you know how that happened!
What. I just realized that I’m already running out of paper. Apparently, I wrote quite a lot. You should be proud of me! I could always ask for more paper but my room service will be here in any minute and I think I’m too hungry to write anymore. You should understand the disastrous effect of hunger better than anybody else (Serious just like you).
Oh, when you finish reading this letter, grab your phone and call me. I want to hear the voice of the future number one (wink) ♥. Call me now!
- Love, love, and more love (because I know you LOVE that word), Nole.
P.S.: Mom wants to talk to you if you’re going to move in with me. This should be a secret but I think she’s interested in your mom’s recipe for that delicious cupcake from the other day.
Ernests laughed a little and then frowned a little. He didn’t like unskilled people messing with Photoshop and making him look like a half-brained idiot. Wondering if he should buy all the copies if such a disaster happens, the Latvian gave a huge peck on his boyfriend’s name at the end of the letter and picked up the phone. He would have to talk to his mother about that particular recipe but that could wait until he heard Novak’s voice.
“Nole?”
That was the name that had been ringing in his heart day and night, shining like a bright star in his mind.
* * * * * * *
In case anybody's interested in seeing Nole watching fireworks :)
