[Fic] And After That (Roger x Rafa)
Title: And After That
Author: kohee
Pairing: Roger Federer x Rafael Nadal
Summary: Post Australian Open 2009 final. Roger struggles to come to terms with his loss, and Rafa tells him it is okay to cry.
Genre: Angst/Friendship-Romance
Rating: PG
Author's Note: Yes I divert from JE. Rogi!cuddling is needed and I am still trying to recover because damn, I love that man.
He stares at the runner up trophy resting against his bags, and thinks again how foreign the big silver plate seems, and at the same time, how familiar has it become that he is, again, second-place, again, not good enough. He feels his eyes burning, and fiercely, he bites his lip and forces the tears down; he has cried enough, he thinks. Roger Federer never used to cry or show much of his emotions.
Then again, Roger Federer never used to lose three Grand Slam finals in less than a year.
But there would be no more tears, he determines, hoisting up his bags and tucking the plate under his arm. It was appalling the way he lost his composure during the awards ceremony, he never meant to take anything away from Rafa, never even remotely thought about it, but when he thought of what could have been, and all the lost chances - chances he didn't take when it mattered the most - he couldn't, just couldn't stand there and smile and pretend that it was okay. It could have been his; Australian Open number four and Grand Slam number fourteen, but it wasn't and it stung. Badly.
But it will stop hurting, he thinks. Tomorrow is another day, and it will be another tournament and he will have another chance chasing records and chasing history.
Perhaps.
He swivels around to exit the locker room, and sees Rafa stepping in, his face tired and creased with exhaustion from the long match, the long night and the even longer press conference, but at the same time shining with exuberance and elation - his first hard court Grand Slam, the glittering silver trophy in his arms. Rafa stops walking when he sees Roger, step faltering as uncertainty flits across his face. It was easy and so natural to just hug Roger to him during that ceremony, when he could see how much Roger was hurting, but now, when it is just the two of them, he is unsure of what to do and what to say.
There is perhaps almost half a minute of silence before Roger breaks it. “Congratulations. You deserve it, Rafa.” Roger said softly, holding out his hand for Rafa to clasp. The pain of the loss still faintly glimmers in his eyes, but each and every word is sincere and Rafa knows it, and appreciates it.
He shifts his trophy and takes Roger's hand, tightening his fingers around Roger's, feeing the callouses at his fingertips, and is reminded how hard Roger fought; and he thinks Roger deserves the trophy as well.
“Thank you. Means very much from you, Roger.” He replies, and they smile at each other briefly, hands falling as Roger loosens his grip.
Roger clears his throat, his eyes catching Rafa's. “It was...very kind of you back there.”
Rafa flushes and looks down. “Didn't do a lot, no?”
“It was a lot.” Roger says quietly. “You didn't have to do that, but it was what I needed to...you know. Pull myself together. I didn't mean to take anything away from you, Rafa. I'm sorry that I...” he gestures vaguely, finding himself unable to say the words cried or broke down. “Anyway. Thank you.”
“Is okay.” Rafa shuffles his feet and looks at Roger - his eyes are still red but clear of tears, and the composed Roger Federer face is neatly in place. And suddenly, Rafa wonders why does Roger hold it all in, why does he try so hard to hide everything, even when it is just the two of them.
“Are you okay?” He blurts out, almost without thinking, and winces as Roger visibly flinches and his composure slips.
Roger recovers quickly, and smiles forcibly at Rafa. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
But Rafa sees through it, the smile is not real, not like the one he saw during the trophy ceremony, when Roger was teary and sniffing and devastated, but that one smile he saw when he slung his arm around Roger was genuine. This one is not and Rafa thinks it is not right.
Dropping his bags on the floor and the trophy on the bench, he takes a step forward and pulls Roger to him, burying his face into the crook of Roger's neck, arms encircling his back.
Roger does not move, arms still by his side as Rafa hugs him.
“Is okay to cry.” Rafa whispers, his arms tightening around Roger, and Roger knows that Rafa is right, it is okay to cry when you've let the chance at history slip through your fingers, it is okay to cry when you feel utterly desolate and crushed, it is okay to cry even if you had just cried in front of millions, it is okay to cry because you have the right to.
And so Roger reaches up and rests his hands on Rafa's back, fingers gripping at Rafa's shirt, breathing in the scent of Rafa and feeling the warmth and the comfort that the younger man is offering.
And Roger cries, because it is okay to cry, and because it fucking hurts to come so close and not attain the dream.
And Rafa continues to hold Roger until he stops crying, because that is all he can do, and he wants Roger to know that he is there, and will always be there.
-------
Late into the night, Roger's mobile phone beeps with a message.
I hope you are better.
He replies that he is, and it is because of Rafa.
It is a few minutes later when his screen lights up again.
Are we okay?
He can almost hear the words in Rafa's voice, hesitant and unsure, and he swiftly taps the reply.
We always have been okay.
And they will always be okay.
------
- end -
I immensely love Roger Federer. I immensely love Rafael Nadal. And I immensely love Roger x Rafa and no I am not weird. :D
Author: kohee
Pairing: Roger Federer x Rafael Nadal
Summary: Post Australian Open 2009 final. Roger struggles to come to terms with his loss, and Rafa tells him it is okay to cry.
Genre: Angst/Friendship-Romance
Rating: PG
Author's Note: Yes I divert from JE. Rogi!cuddling is needed and I am still trying to recover because damn, I love that man.
He stares at the runner up trophy resting against his bags, and thinks again how foreign the big silver plate seems, and at the same time, how familiar has it become that he is, again, second-place, again, not good enough. He feels his eyes burning, and fiercely, he bites his lip and forces the tears down; he has cried enough, he thinks. Roger Federer never used to cry or show much of his emotions.
Then again, Roger Federer never used to lose three Grand Slam finals in less than a year.
But there would be no more tears, he determines, hoisting up his bags and tucking the plate under his arm. It was appalling the way he lost his composure during the awards ceremony, he never meant to take anything away from Rafa, never even remotely thought about it, but when he thought of what could have been, and all the lost chances - chances he didn't take when it mattered the most - he couldn't, just couldn't stand there and smile and pretend that it was okay. It could have been his; Australian Open number four and Grand Slam number fourteen, but it wasn't and it stung. Badly.
But it will stop hurting, he thinks. Tomorrow is another day, and it will be another tournament and he will have another chance chasing records and chasing history.
Perhaps.
He swivels around to exit the locker room, and sees Rafa stepping in, his face tired and creased with exhaustion from the long match, the long night and the even longer press conference, but at the same time shining with exuberance and elation - his first hard court Grand Slam, the glittering silver trophy in his arms. Rafa stops walking when he sees Roger, step faltering as uncertainty flits across his face. It was easy and so natural to just hug Roger to him during that ceremony, when he could see how much Roger was hurting, but now, when it is just the two of them, he is unsure of what to do and what to say.
There is perhaps almost half a minute of silence before Roger breaks it. “Congratulations. You deserve it, Rafa.” Roger said softly, holding out his hand for Rafa to clasp. The pain of the loss still faintly glimmers in his eyes, but each and every word is sincere and Rafa knows it, and appreciates it.
He shifts his trophy and takes Roger's hand, tightening his fingers around Roger's, feeing the callouses at his fingertips, and is reminded how hard Roger fought; and he thinks Roger deserves the trophy as well.
“Thank you. Means very much from you, Roger.” He replies, and they smile at each other briefly, hands falling as Roger loosens his grip.
Roger clears his throat, his eyes catching Rafa's. “It was...very kind of you back there.”
Rafa flushes and looks down. “Didn't do a lot, no?”
“It was a lot.” Roger says quietly. “You didn't have to do that, but it was what I needed to...you know. Pull myself together. I didn't mean to take anything away from you, Rafa. I'm sorry that I...” he gestures vaguely, finding himself unable to say the words cried or broke down. “Anyway. Thank you.”
“Is okay.” Rafa shuffles his feet and looks at Roger - his eyes are still red but clear of tears, and the composed Roger Federer face is neatly in place. And suddenly, Rafa wonders why does Roger hold it all in, why does he try so hard to hide everything, even when it is just the two of them.
“Are you okay?” He blurts out, almost without thinking, and winces as Roger visibly flinches and his composure slips.
Roger recovers quickly, and smiles forcibly at Rafa. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
But Rafa sees through it, the smile is not real, not like the one he saw during the trophy ceremony, when Roger was teary and sniffing and devastated, but that one smile he saw when he slung his arm around Roger was genuine. This one is not and Rafa thinks it is not right.
Dropping his bags on the floor and the trophy on the bench, he takes a step forward and pulls Roger to him, burying his face into the crook of Roger's neck, arms encircling his back.
Roger does not move, arms still by his side as Rafa hugs him.
“Is okay to cry.” Rafa whispers, his arms tightening around Roger, and Roger knows that Rafa is right, it is okay to cry when you've let the chance at history slip through your fingers, it is okay to cry when you feel utterly desolate and crushed, it is okay to cry even if you had just cried in front of millions, it is okay to cry because you have the right to.
And so Roger reaches up and rests his hands on Rafa's back, fingers gripping at Rafa's shirt, breathing in the scent of Rafa and feeling the warmth and the comfort that the younger man is offering.
And Roger cries, because it is okay to cry, and because it fucking hurts to come so close and not attain the dream.
And Rafa continues to hold Roger until he stops crying, because that is all he can do, and he wants Roger to know that he is there, and will always be there.
-------
Late into the night, Roger's mobile phone beeps with a message.
I hope you are better.
He replies that he is, and it is because of Rafa.
It is a few minutes later when his screen lights up again.
Are we okay?
He can almost hear the words in Rafa's voice, hesitant and unsure, and he swiftly taps the reply.
We always have been okay.
And they will always be okay.
------
- end -
I immensely love Roger Federer. I immensely love Rafael Nadal. And I immensely love Roger x Rafa and no I am not weird. :D