*blinks* Erm, I have no excuse at all...
Andy thought he’d been doing a good job of hiding his general vexedness frankly. Roger had been as painfully cheerful and wickedly adorable as ever through their celebratory dinner and then through the suitably raucous victory sex that followed.
Now with the Swiss fast asleep and drooling slightly on his pillow, Andy felt it was time to lurk about the place and be moody before he snapped and beat someone to death with some well placed serves.
He was prowling the room, pacing from corner to corner when Roger spoke.
“Must you?”
Andy jumped and pointed an accusing finger. “You were asleep! You were even drooling!”
Roger did his best affronted look - difficult with bed-head tousled hair. “I do not drool.”
“You do. It shouldn’t be attractive, but your general sexiness makes it so.”
“Oh.” The man took this in and shrugged. “Stop distracting me.”
“From what? Sleep doesn’t require that much concentration!” snapped the American.
“Andy,” said Roger sweetly, “Remove that stick from your ass, before I’m forced to do it myself and replace it with one of my racquets.”
Painfully aware he was being childish, Andy stamped his foot. “This is no way to talk to the guy who bought you dinner and fucked you into oblivion.”
“Two racquets. And a tennis ball.”
“But - “
“Complain and I’ll shove one of my trophies up there too.”
Andy subsided. “I hate it when you have matches with him.”
Roger sighed and slumped into the pillow. Here it goes.
“He’s always touching you.”
“I can hardly not touch him. We must shake hands. I can’t say ‘I’m sorry but my boyfriend thinks you’re a pervert and now I can’t come within half a court of you’.”
“Always with the hands!” Andy wailed. “Have you seen the picture?! It looks like he’s feeling you up!”
“But you say that about every picture I’m in. Even the ones when I’m alone in the shot.” It was much too early in the morning to be patient, Roger was deciding. Three more minutes and Andy was either be in bed, naked, or locked in the hallway, naked.
“He’s always whispering things too!”
“He only gave me his hotel room number once, darling. We’ve been over this.” He declined to add, five times this month.
“It’s just the general muscling-in-on-my-territory-ness of it! I hate that! You’re mine.”
Thirty seconds and Roger would have the bed to himself the rest of the night. He sighed again. He could think of something so much more fun he could be doing with his time. He threw back the covers, grinning ferally.
Andy’s eyes went huge, and he made a small ‘wheep’ noise.
“I can persuade you to forget the match?” purred Roger.
His lover smiled and leapt forward. “There was a match, was there?”