ATP Kindergaten (Chapter 35)
Title: ATP Kindergarten
Main pairings: Richard Gasquet/Ernests Gulbis, Rafael Nadal/Juan Martin Del Potro
Other characters: Juan Carlos Ferrero, Marat Safin, Carlos Moya, Bethanie Mattek-Sands
Rating: G
Warning: Possible destruction of innocence
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and this is a fiction.
Summary: Juan Martin gets to meet an interesting girl in Sweden while Juan Carlos discovers a new ability of his. Ernests' mother has two pieces of news for her son to which the boy shows two very different reactions.
Author's note: Special dedication to dear slyreflection. I'm posting it unbetaed so your OTP scenes can reach you as fast as possible :)
From the previous chapter:
Marin had got a new bed on Christmas morning but hadn’t disappointed his parents about finding out the truth about his gift and Santa’s letter. Andy had met Novak’s friends and had enjoyed a great time on the Serbian mountains while Richard had heard shocking news from Mirka that she was pregnant with Stan’s child.
Chapter 35: Holidays are for new adventures
Inside the tent, ice fishing camp, Sweden,
“It should be an ‘E’, Juma.”
“E?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
Juan Martin used his eraser to correct his word. He was writing a postcard to his parents and Rafael was helping him with the spelling. It had been a dream day for the four year old, having ice-fished all day with his boyfriend and his lifetime idol. Apparently, Carlos was not only great with a tennis racquet but also quite wonderful with a fishing rod. Rafael and Carlos usually spent the night in an ice hotel but the former world number one had respected the boys’ wishes to camp outside this year.
“Careful. You’re going to spill your hot chocolate.”
Rafael pushed the mug that had been sitting dangerously close to the boy’s elbow. Carlos had made hot chocolate for them and had gone outside to have a chat with the American dad who occupied the tent next to theirs.
“What are they talking about? I can’t really hear them.” Juan Martin wondered what made his favorite coach chuckle good-heartedly.
Rafael sat close to the entrance of the tent and pricked up his ears. “Meh, dad is telling him how scared I was to walk on ice when we came here for the first time. I wish he’d stop telling everybody that embarrassing story.”
Juan Martin got up from his stomach as he cackled. But he couldn’t laugh for long as a girl wearing her hair in braids let herself into the tent.
“Hello, boys.”
The six year old raised his eyebrows but he knew his manners. His dad probably had felt bad for the girl for being alone and wanted them to play with her. “Hi. Who are you? I’m Rafa.”
“Hi, Rafa. I’m Bethanie Mattek. Your dad let me in.”
The girl sat right in front of Rafael’s nose and took a good look at him. “Aww, you’re so cute! I asked Santa for a cute, tanned boy. Maybe it’s you!”
Bethanie had no hesitation as she hooked her arms around the Spanish boy’s neck and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Mmmwa!”
Juan Martin sat there dumbfounded, refusing to believe that a girl wearing a leopard-print jumpsuit with a matching winter hat had just done horrible things to his boyfriend.
“Who are you?” He yelled in horror.
“Oh, hi cutie. Didn’t see you there. My name is Bethanie, but you can call me Betty. How old are you?”
The Argentinean boy held up four fingers, not sure why she was asking.
“Daww! What a good age! My tarot cards told me that I’d fall in love with a boy three years younger than me! It must be you!”
“Eh… Marin said those aren’t scientific.” Juan Martin knew that he could count on his friend’s knowledge as long as it had nothing to do with Santa Claus.
“Who’s Marin? Another cute four year old boy?”
“You know him?” The youngest kid was alarmed. Perhaps tarot cards were real, just like Santa.
“Haha, she was just guessing.” Rafael patted his boyfriend on the arm and gave him a kiss on the forehead.
“Oh my god, are you two together?”
Both boys nodded at the question which only left the girl smiling wider.
“That’s just wonderful! I’ve heard from grandma that there are countries where a girl can have two husbands!”
“And, what does that have to do with us?” Rafael moved his eyebrows, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer.
“Aww, you tease.”
She swung her arms around the boys and enjoyed a deep laugh which reminded Juan Martin of a witch, from one of his story books, who ate tiny babies to live forever young.
“All right, Betty. Time to go to bed.”
Much to the boys’ relief, Mr. Mattek had poked his head inside the tent before his daughter could do anything crazier.
“Already? But I’m not sleepy!”
As a matter of fact, the girl’s eyes were shining almost as brightly as the stars, but judging by the looks on the boys’ faces, Mr. Mattek could tell that it was time to get her back to their own tent.
“You’re seven, sweetie. But the baby boy here is four. He has to sleep early.”
The Argentinean boy was quick-witted enough to let out a long yawn and rub his eyes.
“Ah, too bad then. Sweet dreams, cutie.”
Before Juan Martin could dodge, Bethanie gave the young boy three quick kisses on the head. “Bye, boys!”
“Bye!” Rafael waved his hand enthusiastically so that she wouldn’t come back in the middle of the night, insisting that she didn’t get a proper farewell.
“America has scary girls, no?” The Spanish boy clearly remembered how a little girl had kept following him around with a lollipop last year when he had visited L.A with his dad.
“Eh, I feel dirty. My hair.” Juan Martin couldn’t believe that he had just let a girl kiss him three times when he was supposed to be an athlete with great reflexes.
“Aww, come here.” Rafael opened his arms.
“One day, you’re going to be a very famous tennis player and have lots of fans like her. They’ll cheer for you, no? Crazy fans are the best. They’re loud.”
Despite the six year old’s attempt at reassuring the boy, Juan Martin seemed more alarmed. “So they’re all going to kiss me on the head?”
“What? Ahaha... If you become a very tall player, they won’t be able to do that.”
“Ooh.”
Juan Martin thought for a moment before asking, “What do I have to do to become that tall?”
Then, he got an idea himself which he wasn’t particularly fond of. “Don’t tell me that I have to eat more veggies.”
Rafael giggled at the horrified tone. The scary girl’s visit actually turned out to be very helpful. His boyfriend was taller than his peers but he could definitely eat better.
“You already know the secret!” Rafael patted the groaning boy and kissed him three times on the head.
“What were you boys talking about?” Carlos came in and zipped up the tent, making sure that they were safe for the night.
“I was telling Juma how eating more veggies will make him a tall player. Tall players have bigger serves, no?”
Carlos smiled and started to talk about all the wonderful things vegetables could do for a good player to become a great player. Juan Martin had no other choice than to listen carefully to what his favorite player of all times had to say.
On a fishing boat, The Bahamas,
“Ah, this is good. Vodka goes great with fishing, you see.”
Marat drank another sip from his bottle and glanced at Juan Carlos who was drinking his precious coffee.
“Is there anything vodka doesn’t go great with?” The Spaniard asked without taking his eyes off his fishing rod.
“Good point. And, you know you can blink your eyes from time to time. Fishing is supposed to be relaxing.”
“But something tells me that if you relax too much, you’ll go home with an empty bucket.” Juan Carlos took a glance at Marat’s bucket and chuckled. There were only three small fish.
“Is that why you’re catching more fish than me? Because you’re superconcentrating?” Marat looked questionably at the fish bucket behind the Spaniard. It seemed like the fish here spoke Spanish.
“I don’t know. Perhaps the fish just like me more. They must have taste.”
While Marat glared at him, mumbling something in Russian, Juan Carlos wondered how he ended up enjoying fishing. Their boat had been out on the sea for a good five hours and he still didn’t feel like going back. He prided himself to be a man who liked to engage in highly intellectual hobbies such as solving Mensa Sudoku puzzles or playing chess. However, there was something appealing in sitting in a fishing boat, feeling the light breeze and the warmth of the sunshine on your skin.
“You know, you should lose those shorts if you want a proper tan, not just the shirt.” Marat tried his best to keep his face innocent.
“Did someone tell you that I’m great in bed? What’s with you trying to get in my pants? You weren’t like this until last summer.”
Of course, normally, Juan Carlos would have chosen his words more carefully, but it felt appropriate to take a direct approach when it came to talking to Marat.
“Well… are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Great in bed?”
The Spaniard blinked his eyes. “Will you leave me alone if I say I’m not?”
Marat looked at him up and down before answering, “Hmm… I don’t know. You could be a natural but just haven’t met the right person to awaken your true abilities.”
“You’re talking as if it’s some kind of superpower.” Juan Carlos snorted.
“Well, people do look up to me in bed as if I was a superhero.”
Marat beamed and Juan Carlos would have smacked him with his fishing rod if he hadn’t felt a fish taking the bait.
“Pull!”
Marat jumped up from his seat and helped his colleague. So far, they had only been catching small fish, but this one seemed to be much bigger.
“Come on, Juanqui! Use your muscles!”
“Hey, I’m pulling!”
After a few seconds of struggle, the men managed to get the big fish on board.
“Oh gosh! This is huge! I didn’t even know we could catch something this size around here!” Juan Carlos felt a surge of excitement rush through his body.
“I can’t believe you caught such a big one on your first day!” Marat quickly let the fish rest in peace and lifted his colleague in the air.
“This is awesome! I should fish more often!” The Spaniard threw his arms around the Russian’s neck before realizing how they were in the middle of a shirtless hug.
“Err… Marat?” Juan Carlos pointed at the ground.
“Ah, sorry.”
Marat let the fishing genius stand on his own feet and picked up his vodka bottle. If there was any harm in drinking during the day, it was the fact that your body could become very sensitive at inconvenient moments.
‘Bah, this sucks.’
He knew that, unfortunately, jumping a fellow human being in public wasn’t acceptable outside the boundaries of his beloved country. In Russia, such behavior was tolerable because people within your eyesight would probably have drunk as much as you did, which meant that they wouldn’t be able to figure out if you making out with someone was real or a simple hallucination.
‘Why didn’t we go fishing in Russia? Ah, right. He needed a tan.’
Marat poured more liquor into his system and caught a worried-looking Juan Carlos from the corner of his eye.
“It’s no big deal. I was just lucky. You’re clearly a better fisher than I am.”
“Huh?” The Russian had no idea what the teacher was talking about.
“I’m saying you don’t have to get upset about my big fish.” Juan Carlos even moved a couple of fish from his bucket to Marat’s.
“But…”
All of a sudden, the Spaniard’s phone went off, blowing Marat’s chance of explaining that he wasn’t upset about catching less fish.
“I’m sorry. I have to take this. It’s my dad.”
Juan Carlos went to the edge of the boat so that he wouldn’t disturb Marat and his dear bottle while the Russian stared at the Spaniard’s back that could use more muscles.
‘Teaching kids is a hard job. How can he put up with the boys every single day with that kind of a body? I bet even Tim has more muscles than that.’
Taking a mental note to talk Juan Carlos into muscle-making, Marat thought about how he had become interested in the devoted teacher. It had all started when the wicked teacher had made him carry the boys - who had finished their vegetable soups - on his shoulders during lunch time. He didn’t even get a say in the popular ‘Coach Marat ride’ project; he was ordered to participate and although Marat had never been into taking orders, Juan Carlos was hot when he acted like a stern teacher.
‘He was nice enough to give me a shoulder massage after the kids went home that day. Too bad his hands stayed on the shoulders the whole time, but it was better than nothing.’
As annoying as the Spaniard could be with his smartass comments, he was probably the one along with Dmitry who knew him best. He seemed to speak the Marat language and knew when to throw a carrot and when to wield a stick. Marat often found himself feeling like a young boy when he stood in front of the teacher. Juan Carlos had that much charisma even though he was a simple school teacher.
“What are you drooling about? You’re that hungry? Why didn’t you say so?” Juan Carlos turned the boat around and headed for the shore.
Marat quickly wiped his chin and realized that his gaze had happened to end up on the Spaniard’s fish bucket. “You know how to cook fish?”
“Of course. I’m very useful in the kitchen if you must know. Ivan wanted to hire me the other day.”
Marat chuckled at the confident tone and finished his bottle; obviously Vodka went great with fish.
Ernests’ house, Latvia,
Ernests was reading Marin’s letter that had just been delivered by the mailman when his mother, Milena, joined him on the couch with a lemon cake.
“Hah! I knew it! He got a new bed, mom! Santa is so real! I told him so but he didn’t believe me!”
Milena laughed and cut him a slice of cake as her son filled her in with how Marin had written Santa a letter of apology and how he had sent a letter to Juan Martin as well to tell him about his Christmas gifts.
“If it was a bet, what did you win?” She asked, making sure that Ernests wasn’t dropping any crumbs on her new carpet.
“I didn’t win anything. I just wanted him to know that Santa was looking out for him. Marin’s really great. I’m sure he was on Santa’s list anyway.”
Milena smiled and gave her child a pinch on the cheek. She could tell that Ernests was very proud of having such a good friend.
“How’s the cake?”
“Nom nom. It’s great, mommy.”
The pleased mother wiped off some crumbs around the child’s mouth as she thought about how much brighter and more cheerful Ernests had become. Until last summer, she had been terribly worried that his medical condition would become worse if he went to school. Gratefully, it turned out just the opposite and Milena thanked god for letting her see her son look so happy in such a long time.
“By the way, sweetie, daddy is coming home to see you tomorrow.”
The four year old froze in his seat with his fork in the air.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
She had thought that it was good news, considering how things had recently been between the two guys. Ainars had been calling and visiting regularly ever since Ernests’ winter break had started and the boy seemed to feel more comfortable around his dad.
Ernests didn’t answer for a couple of seconds, making his mother get worried.
“Ernie?”
“Why is he coming home so often? He wants to live with us again?”
The faint glint of hope in his voice and eyes made Milena swallow a lump of inexplicable feelings.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Mommy can’t see the future. He loves you very, very much even though he can’t live with you right now. He just can’t stop coming over to talk to you.”
“He has a phone if he wants to talk.”
Ernests busied himself with the cake while Milena wondered if she should call Ainars and tell him to come visit them some other time.
“Why did he stop loving you?”
The mother was taken aback at the directness of the question. That was what kids did and she knew she couldn’t blame her son.
“I have no idea, my dear.” She said with honesty, hoping that it would somehow be enough for Ernests.
“How can anybody not love you, mom? You’re lovely! I love you all the time!”
Milena couldn’t help her heart from swelling with joy and relief. It was such a wondrous feeling to hear your child voice his love for you. No matter what happened in her life, she knew that she could count on her sweet boy.
“Mommy loves you all the time too.”
She pressed her lips against the cheek that looked like a balloon with the enormous amount of cake Ernests had just put in his mouth.
“Did I tell you how the important TV people gave mommy a job? They want me on TV while we’re staying here for your winter break.”
“That’s great! Did you choose the show already?” Ernests was aware that his mother used to be an actress when he was even younger.
“They gave me several choices and I want to do the one where I can act with you, sweetie.”
“With me? I will be on TV?”
“Yes! It would be fun.” Milena was full of hope.
“Ooh, what will I be? Spiderman? A pirate? An alien?”
“Haha, you will be my son just like we really are.”
“Ah.”
Milena couldn’t tell if he was disappointed at his possible TV debut role. She remained silent until Ernests asked, “Can I think about it? I need time.”
The mother suppressed the laughter and nodded with matching seriousness. “Sure, darling. Take all the time you need.”
She knew her son well enough to know that whatever important decision he made, he made it under half an hour.
“Can I call Richie, mom? Maybe he can help me decide.”
“Good idea. It’s very important to talk to your boyfriend before making a big decision.”
“Yeah. We don’t want to end up like you and dad.” Ernests muttered as he headed to his room to fetch the Swiss boy’s number.
When the boy came out, Milena dialed the number for him and handed over the phone.
“Hello? Richie? I miss you!”
Milena smiled bitterly, reminiscing about the good old days when she and Ainars used to have a face just as bright as Ernests’ while they listened to each other’s every single breath on the phone.
‘It’s all right. I have Ernie. He’s the best gift Ainars can ever give me.’ She gave her son a heartful squeeze from behind before picking up the empty plates.
Dishwashing always seemed to have the power to make her feel better; it probably had something to do with the sound of water hitting the silverware and the pleasure of seeing something becoming clean.
“Mom, I decided.”
As soon as she turned off the water, she had to face a determined Ernests.
“You did?”
“Yes, I’m going to do it.”
“Really? Even if you don’t get to play an awesome superhero?”
Ernests nodded hard and hugged his mother’s waist. “Yes, really. No role is more awesome than your son anyway.”
“Oh Ernie…”
Milena bent her knees to hug her beloved child at the eye level.
“I love you so much, sweetheart, so much.”
“I love you too, mommy.”
Ernests smiled as he patted his mom on the back. He was going to rock at his role. After all, he didn’t need to act as if he loved her; he just had to be himself.