Fedal Fic: Dim [R rating]
Title: Dim
Author: Jae Kayelle
Pairing: Roger Federer/Rafa Nadal
Rating: R
Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and makes no assumptions about the lives of the real persons depicted herein.
Summary: it's the start of another day.
Word count: 1551
Author's note: I started this in May 2012 when Roger briefly rose to the #2 ranking in world, but it also applies now that he's #1 again after Wimbledon. It's been an interesting season so far. :)
Warm calloused hands skimmed lightly over his ribs, slowly waking Roger up from a dream about sunshine glinting on silver. He rolled over onto his back and immediately about 180 pounds of muscle and sinew stretched out on top of him.
“Mmm Novak?” he asked.
One of those hands smacked him on the bicep. “Not Novak! It's me.”
“Me? Me who? I know so many of you.” The 180 pounds suddenly weighed at least twice as much. “Oof! Get off, you're too heavy!”
The weight rolled off him, but he reached for Rafa so he wouldn't go too far. Wrapping his arms around Rafa's midsection Roger held him tight.
“Missed you. So much.” He rested his head on a convenient shoulder. He could easily fall back asleep like this.
Rafa kissed the top of his head. “Long trip.”
Snorting his amusement Roger rubbed his face against Rafa's shirt. “Yes, all the way from the fourth floor to the ninth.”
“Is a very long trip.”
Roger finally opened his eyes to peer at his lover in the low light of the hotel room.
“You all right?”
Rafa slid down so that his head was on the pillow. Roger shifted too and ended up sharing the pillow.
“All my life I work hard to be the best.”
“Where are you going with this? You are the best to me, to your fans and family. Rankings don't matter.”
Rafa turned to give him a look of disbelief.
“Okay, so that's a lie coming from me,” Roger conceded. “They do matter.”
“I do not complain. But I still wish I could be me to everyone, instead of just you and family.”
“You're tired of pretending.” It wasn't a question.
“Aren't you?”
Roger shrugged. “Yes, sort of. Part of me loves having this just for ourselves. I don't know. Maybe if we tell more people we'll open ourselves up for trouble. It could affect how we play tennis. It could prevent us from playing tennis.”
Rafa sighed, his breath blowing gustily outwards. Somehow he had slid even further down until his head rested on Roger's chest. As Roger watched a smile crept onto Rafa's lips, balancing his endearingly crooked mouth. Oh how Roger loved to kiss that mouth. He lifted a hand to trace the full lips with his fingers.
“What's so funny?”
Rafa stroked Roger's bare arm, playing with the hairs. As if that reminded him of something he moved his hand to the hair on Roger's chest and gently began tugging those.
“Not funny, just...good.”
“Ah, I see. “ And he did see. They might not be able to have their freedom to be open about their relationship, but in a way it was okay. In the end all they really needed was each other.
As if echoing his thoughts Rafa said, “The press surrounds us everyday in public. This is...good.”
“Succinct and very astutely stated.”
“Big words,” a smile curved his voice.
“As if you never use them.”
Rafa shrugged. “It's easier to be simple man.”
“Simple, yes, as in uncomplicated, but not stupid.”
“Some people think...”
“Some people are stupid. They think all athletes are dim.”
“Dim.” Rafa giggled, the vibrations running from his body to Roger's. “I like that. We be dim together.”
Roger slid a hand under Rafa's ribs, underneath the shirt and crooked his fingers along the skin, making him squirm violently.
“That tickles! You are a cruel man!” His body whiplashed in his efforts to avoid the evil hands. He swatted ineffectually until he finally grabbed Roger's hands at the wrists. They wrestled for control, Rafa using his upper body strength to pin Roger to the mattress. Roger surprised him by wrapping a leg around his body and flipping him over. They rolled over, unfortunately ending up on the floor.
|”Ow!”
“Fuck!”
Roger sat up, untangling his left foot from the sheets that had gone over with them. Rafa still lay on the floor.
-
Reaching for him Roger asked worriedly, “Are you all right?”
“Yes. Think so.” A big grin appeared with a flash of white teeth. “That was very silly.”
Roger began to chuckle. “Yes, it was very silly. Funny.”
“And now I'm hungry.”
Roger's stomach chose that cue to rumble in agreement. He rubbed it soothingly. “Shh I'll feed you soon.”
Staring with one eyebrow climbing up under his curly fringe, Rafa asked cautiously, “You talking to your stomach?”
“Don't you talk to yours?”
Suddenly looking like he thought his partner had lost his mind Rafa screwed up his face. “For sure. Of course.” He shrugged exaggeratedly.
Roger poked him in the shoulder. “Don't start talking like you're at one of your pressers, or I'll ask you the same question three different ways the way the media does.”
“You serious?”
“About asking annoying questions over and over? Yes.”
“No! About talking to your belly!”
Roger grinned at him. “No, not serious about that.”
“Dios!” Rafa mimed wiping his brow in relief and flopped back on the floor. “You worry me.”
“I'm sorry.” Leaning forward Roger gently kissed him on the forehead. “I woke up happy today.”
Big brown eyes regarded him with an accompanying smile. “Si?”
“Oui. My boyfriend woke me up by snuggling with me - or on me, I guess. It made me happy.”
“And silly.”
“And silly,” Roger agreed.
Rafa scrunched up his face again. “Now we take care of you and then go for breakfast.”
“Take care...?” Roger followed Rafa's lascivious gaze to where his boxer briefs were tented. “Oh. Yes?”
“Yes.”
Roger stretched out on the floor, lifting his hips when directed, so his shorts could be pulled down and off, and spreading his legs at Rafa's whim.
“We could...ohgod...order room service.” He dug his fingers into Rafa's hair and hung on as he was swallowed to the root. For a few minutes his brain shorted out and there was nothing but heat and pleasure.
When Rafa finally lifted his head, his lips slick with come, and a wicked smile on his face, Roger stared at him muzzily and thought he had never seen anyone so beautiful. Then he remembered that Rafa probably needed some assistance. It was only fair and he loved assisting him.
“Come here and let me help you.”
“Is good. I happened right after you did.”
He happened. Roger smiled fondly. He so loved Rafa-speak.
Wiping his hand on the sheet Rafa said, “Shower first and then we go downstairs to the restaurant for breakfast.” At Roger's look he said, “We go together and eat together. Let them think what they want. We know truth.”
Well, since he put it like that. “Okay.”
“It will be good, Rogi.” Rafa leaned forward and kissed him lightly. “Besides, everyone already think we are fucking.”
They helped each other to stand. Roger was naked and Rafa's pants fell to the floor, his now flaccid cock hanging out of his shorts. He quickly shed the rest of his clothing and then took Roger's hand, leading him towards the bathroom. Roger trailed along behind him, content to stare at the perfection of Rafa's ass.
“Raf.”
“Si?”
“How do you know everyone thinks we're fucking?”
Rafa turned, grinning. “I show you on Internet later. There are these websites...”
“Hmm One time I overheard John McEnroe trying to convince Darren Cahill about us.”
“On tv?” Rafa sounded alarmed.
“He didn't know I was standing close by, around a corner. It was before an interview on ESPN.”
“What if McEnroe tells others?”
“Somehow I don't think he will. “
“Because he your fanboy?”
Roger sputtered. “Fanboy? Where did you get such a word?”
“Those websites I told you about.”
“Then I really need to see them.”
“Did Cahill believe?” Rafa asked.
“He just laughed.”
“The idea of us together is funny?” Rafa was indignant.
Roger turned the water on in the shower, tugging Rafa in after him and sliding the glass door closed. “Maybe he didn't know what to think?”
“Mirka and Mary figured it out before we did. Why can't he?”
Pulling his lover solidly up against him Roger said, “Some people don't understand. They can't see what they don't get.”
Rafa sighed, wrapping his arms around him. “We back at beginning. Having to hide. No able to tell anyone.”
“Yeah, but we've still got us.”
“True.” Stepping back slightly Rafa smiled then. “Show me again how to get my hair as soft as yours.”
“You just want me to shampoo your hair.”
“You good at it. I like how you do it.”
Roger shrugged, feigning indifference when in reality he loved to wash Rafa's hair, to massage his scalp and feel him melt under his touch. “Okay. For you and only for you.”
“Only me.”
“Always.”
# end
Author: Jae Kayelle
Pairing: Roger Federer/Rafa Nadal
Rating: R
Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and makes no assumptions about the lives of the real persons depicted herein.
Summary: it's the start of another day.
Word count: 1551
Author's note: I started this in May 2012 when Roger briefly rose to the #2 ranking in world, but it also applies now that he's #1 again after Wimbledon. It's been an interesting season so far. :)
Warm calloused hands skimmed lightly over his ribs, slowly waking Roger up from a dream about sunshine glinting on silver. He rolled over onto his back and immediately about 180 pounds of muscle and sinew stretched out on top of him.
“Mmm Novak?” he asked.
One of those hands smacked him on the bicep. “Not Novak! It's me.”
“Me? Me who? I know so many of you.” The 180 pounds suddenly weighed at least twice as much. “Oof! Get off, you're too heavy!”
The weight rolled off him, but he reached for Rafa so he wouldn't go too far. Wrapping his arms around Rafa's midsection Roger held him tight.
“Missed you. So much.” He rested his head on a convenient shoulder. He could easily fall back asleep like this.
Rafa kissed the top of his head. “Long trip.”
Snorting his amusement Roger rubbed his face against Rafa's shirt. “Yes, all the way from the fourth floor to the ninth.”
“Is a very long trip.”
Roger finally opened his eyes to peer at his lover in the low light of the hotel room.
“You all right?”
Rafa slid down so that his head was on the pillow. Roger shifted too and ended up sharing the pillow.
“All my life I work hard to be the best.”
“Where are you going with this? You are the best to me, to your fans and family. Rankings don't matter.”
Rafa turned to give him a look of disbelief.
“Okay, so that's a lie coming from me,” Roger conceded. “They do matter.”
“I do not complain. But I still wish I could be me to everyone, instead of just you and family.”
“You're tired of pretending.” It wasn't a question.
“Aren't you?”
Roger shrugged. “Yes, sort of. Part of me loves having this just for ourselves. I don't know. Maybe if we tell more people we'll open ourselves up for trouble. It could affect how we play tennis. It could prevent us from playing tennis.”
Rafa sighed, his breath blowing gustily outwards. Somehow he had slid even further down until his head rested on Roger's chest. As Roger watched a smile crept onto Rafa's lips, balancing his endearingly crooked mouth. Oh how Roger loved to kiss that mouth. He lifted a hand to trace the full lips with his fingers.
“What's so funny?”
Rafa stroked Roger's bare arm, playing with the hairs. As if that reminded him of something he moved his hand to the hair on Roger's chest and gently began tugging those.
“Not funny, just...good.”
“Ah, I see. “ And he did see. They might not be able to have their freedom to be open about their relationship, but in a way it was okay. In the end all they really needed was each other.
As if echoing his thoughts Rafa said, “The press surrounds us everyday in public. This is...good.”
“Succinct and very astutely stated.”
“Big words,” a smile curved his voice.
“As if you never use them.”
Rafa shrugged. “It's easier to be simple man.”
“Simple, yes, as in uncomplicated, but not stupid.”
“Some people think...”
“Some people are stupid. They think all athletes are dim.”
“Dim.” Rafa giggled, the vibrations running from his body to Roger's. “I like that. We be dim together.”
Roger slid a hand under Rafa's ribs, underneath the shirt and crooked his fingers along the skin, making him squirm violently.
“That tickles! You are a cruel man!” His body whiplashed in his efforts to avoid the evil hands. He swatted ineffectually until he finally grabbed Roger's hands at the wrists. They wrestled for control, Rafa using his upper body strength to pin Roger to the mattress. Roger surprised him by wrapping a leg around his body and flipping him over. They rolled over, unfortunately ending up on the floor.
|”Ow!”
“Fuck!”
Roger sat up, untangling his left foot from the sheets that had gone over with them. Rafa still lay on the floor.
-
Reaching for him Roger asked worriedly, “Are you all right?”
“Yes. Think so.” A big grin appeared with a flash of white teeth. “That was very silly.”
Roger began to chuckle. “Yes, it was very silly. Funny.”
“And now I'm hungry.”
Roger's stomach chose that cue to rumble in agreement. He rubbed it soothingly. “Shh I'll feed you soon.”
Staring with one eyebrow climbing up under his curly fringe, Rafa asked cautiously, “You talking to your stomach?”
“Don't you talk to yours?”
Suddenly looking like he thought his partner had lost his mind Rafa screwed up his face. “For sure. Of course.” He shrugged exaggeratedly.
Roger poked him in the shoulder. “Don't start talking like you're at one of your pressers, or I'll ask you the same question three different ways the way the media does.”
“You serious?”
“About asking annoying questions over and over? Yes.”
“No! About talking to your belly!”
Roger grinned at him. “No, not serious about that.”
“Dios!” Rafa mimed wiping his brow in relief and flopped back on the floor. “You worry me.”
“I'm sorry.” Leaning forward Roger gently kissed him on the forehead. “I woke up happy today.”
Big brown eyes regarded him with an accompanying smile. “Si?”
“Oui. My boyfriend woke me up by snuggling with me - or on me, I guess. It made me happy.”
“And silly.”
“And silly,” Roger agreed.
Rafa scrunched up his face again. “Now we take care of you and then go for breakfast.”
“Take care...?” Roger followed Rafa's lascivious gaze to where his boxer briefs were tented. “Oh. Yes?”
“Yes.”
Roger stretched out on the floor, lifting his hips when directed, so his shorts could be pulled down and off, and spreading his legs at Rafa's whim.
“We could...ohgod...order room service.” He dug his fingers into Rafa's hair and hung on as he was swallowed to the root. For a few minutes his brain shorted out and there was nothing but heat and pleasure.
When Rafa finally lifted his head, his lips slick with come, and a wicked smile on his face, Roger stared at him muzzily and thought he had never seen anyone so beautiful. Then he remembered that Rafa probably needed some assistance. It was only fair and he loved assisting him.
“Come here and let me help you.”
“Is good. I happened right after you did.”
He happened. Roger smiled fondly. He so loved Rafa-speak.
Wiping his hand on the sheet Rafa said, “Shower first and then we go downstairs to the restaurant for breakfast.” At Roger's look he said, “We go together and eat together. Let them think what they want. We know truth.”
Well, since he put it like that. “Okay.”
“It will be good, Rogi.” Rafa leaned forward and kissed him lightly. “Besides, everyone already think we are fucking.”
They helped each other to stand. Roger was naked and Rafa's pants fell to the floor, his now flaccid cock hanging out of his shorts. He quickly shed the rest of his clothing and then took Roger's hand, leading him towards the bathroom. Roger trailed along behind him, content to stare at the perfection of Rafa's ass.
“Raf.”
“Si?”
“How do you know everyone thinks we're fucking?”
Rafa turned, grinning. “I show you on Internet later. There are these websites...”
“Hmm One time I overheard John McEnroe trying to convince Darren Cahill about us.”
“On tv?” Rafa sounded alarmed.
“He didn't know I was standing close by, around a corner. It was before an interview on ESPN.”
“What if McEnroe tells others?”
“Somehow I don't think he will. “
“Because he your fanboy?”
Roger sputtered. “Fanboy? Where did you get such a word?”
“Those websites I told you about.”
“Then I really need to see them.”
“Did Cahill believe?” Rafa asked.
“He just laughed.”
“The idea of us together is funny?” Rafa was indignant.
Roger turned the water on in the shower, tugging Rafa in after him and sliding the glass door closed. “Maybe he didn't know what to think?”
“Mirka and Mary figured it out before we did. Why can't he?”
Pulling his lover solidly up against him Roger said, “Some people don't understand. They can't see what they don't get.”
Rafa sighed, wrapping his arms around him. “We back at beginning. Having to hide. No able to tell anyone.”
“Yeah, but we've still got us.”
“True.” Stepping back slightly Rafa smiled then. “Show me again how to get my hair as soft as yours.”
“You just want me to shampoo your hair.”
“You good at it. I like how you do it.”
Roger shrugged, feigning indifference when in reality he loved to wash Rafa's hair, to massage his scalp and feel him melt under his touch. “Okay. For you and only for you.”
“Only me.”
“Always.”
# end