tennis slash - For My Personal Collection (1)
Title: For My Personal Collection (1)
Author: Kris S.
Fandom: Tennis RPS
Pairings: Andy Murray/Richard Gasquet; this chapter only: Gasquet/Gael Monfils
Other Players: Alize Cornet
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: This did not happen.
Summary: AU. Andy is a photographer who has found the perfect model to manipulate.
Author's Note: This first chapter is based off an original fiction I wrote last year. So if you find it, yes, it is me - guess you can say I'm plagiarizing myself.
Andy gets a kick out of making the pretty boys uncomfortable. That's what he tells himself whenever he sets up a session like this.
"Are you Andrew Murray?" Ah, the new one. Andy looks up to find the guy he met outside the grounds of the US Open. A Frenchman who loved following the sport like a pathetic groupie, his favorite player had been Justine Henin. Sure, he said that it was because her game was so beautiful, blah blah blah. Andy saw a picture of her and was convinced this Richie would be the perfect one for this piece.
That day, Richie's girlfriend Alize was clutching his arm, perfectly aware that she had good eye candy and wanted it to be clear to all. Okay, so she was a tennis player, making his pilgrimage to the states appear a little less crazy.
Andy was a legitimate photographer. He had a portfolio to prove it. His provocative photos had been featured in ad campaigns, billboards posted throughout the United States. Hiding behind a camera while more explicit activity took place was a natural extension.
He leads Richie into the apartment. It's a workspace doubling as his home. After all, the price of an apartment in New York, even for a plain hole-in-the-wall, was quite high.
"So you said this..." Richie stops dead in his tracks upon seeing Gael lounging on the couch in a sleeveless tee and worn-out jeans. "What, exactly, is this shoot about?"
"Well, it's a black and white piece. No pun intended. It's just that Gael photographs magnificently and I need a contrast. Gael, this is Ri-shard."
Gael extends his hand, which Richie accepts. "Nice to meet you, Richie."
Richie is fidgeting with his pocket, suddenly appearing uncomfortable with the situation. "Mr. Murray, I think there's been a misunderstanding."
"You find Gael intimidating?" Andy asked, knowing it would work well to question Richie's manhood. Yes, Gael is a few inches taller but it's the guy's physique that made it appear to be more. Hell, Andy himself was nearly Gael's height but there was no comparison as to who was more intimidating. Even though technically, Gael was Andy's assistant on the real photo shoots.
The thing was that Gael loved watching boys like Richie squirm. Then there were the perks of this side job.
Gael grabs the pile of clothes on the couch and hands them to Richie. Just a simple white t-shirt and jeans. Andy had already told Richie this was for a cologne campaign, so the clothing was not the focus. Made it easy to get cheap attire. If it was maybe a size or so too small, well, that would be the plan, actually.
Richie looks from Gael to the clothes to Andy, wanting to say something but not sure what. He heads to the bathroom to change.
Gael comments, "You're picking very well, Andy. I didn't think you could lure a Frenchman. At least I can speak to him in my native tongue."
"Yeah, well, I'd prefer you didn't do that. He looks downright adorable when fumbling for the correct English phrase."
"I understand you. So, you think he's bi? You mentioned the girlfriend but he's much prettier than her."
"How do you know that?"
"I follow tennis, especially this time of year. Alize Cornet is pretty but she's no Richie."
Andy kidded, "You also have strange taste in men. That Spanish player who's now number 1?"
"It's the arms, man."
"Yeah, they're scarier than yours."
When Richie returns, Andy and Gael stop bantering and exchange glances, then both smile. Andy explains, “Okay, you don’t really have to do much. Gael will be doing most of the movement. I need you to appear as if you’re in charge. Just cross your arms over your chest.”
Richie plants his feet and goes into position, then Andy begins snapping. Gael stands behind Richie, muscular arms trapping him in this pose as Gael settles his hands on Richie’s waist.
“Er, Mr. Murray…”
Andy cuts him off. “Let him go.” Richie breathes a sigh of relief as Gael does so. It is short-lived as Andy continues, “The t-shirt isn’t working. Lose it.”
Richie stares at the photographer, wanting to complain but relents, revealing his nicely tanned and toned upper body.
Andy nods. “That’s better. Gael, back in position.” Gael grins and Richie frowns as there is now no fabric separating this touch. “I want it to seem as if you’re both in the picture. Gael, rest your chin on Richie’s shoulder. But not a cheesy Hallmark thing, more possessive.”
“I think I understand,” Gael says. His hands slip down so his thumbs are hanging on the pockets of Richie’s jeans then settles on his shoulder, his gaze toward the more nervous partner.
Andy smiles. This really is working well as Richie stiffens his posture. From Gael’s position, he imagines that his breath is tickling Richie’s ear. Richie will wish his girlfriend felt this good.
That said, Andy could see room for improvement in the pose. Even though this wasn’t for a publication, the perfectionist in him wouldn’t let the picture stay. “Neither of you move. Just…”
Andy sets the camera down and approaches them. He stands right in front of Richie and undoes the button of the jeans, then adjusts the band of the boxers so it’s not in view.
Richie is studying the photographer the entire time. Andy feels eyes on him but doesn’t want to see the expression. On the other hand, it means Andy is looking down, right at Richie’s hardening cock. Andy tells himself that Gael is doing his job perfectly, not wanting to admit anything further.
When Andy backs away, he gets another idea. “Gael, lay your hands flat against the jeans, but pull down on the thumbs in the pocket. Got me?”
Gael gives a wide smile. His fingers accidentally touch Richie’s cock, to which Gael whispers an apology he doesn’t mean, before settling on the upper thigh. Fingers wrap inside Richie’s thigh, so he’s still pretty close to the ultimate goal. The jeans are hanging dangerously low now, exposing hip bones and a trace of hair.
Richie’s face reddens as he struggles not to react, to no avail. He squeaks out, “Are we going to be much longer?”
“I’m not sure. Why, is there some place you need to be?” Andy stares right into Richie’s wide eyes, daring him to object.
“No… it’s just… nevermind.” Beads of sweat trail down his torso, more on edge by the moment.
Andy hides his smile. Richie doesn’t seem to know how to speak up, to get out of this soft porn situation.
Gael says, “Actually, I do. I’m supposed to meet Gilles pretty soon.”
“Fair enough.” This is also part of the plan. That Gael riles the guy up then leaves them alone. What happens after that depends on the guy. “Then let’s try one more position before you have to leave. I can try a few with just Richie after. From that position, Richie, I want you to turn toward Gael as if you’re going to kiss him.”
“I’m not, right? I don’t make out with guys.”
“No, you’re not,” Andy promises. “Just look at him the way you’d look at your girlfriend. Well, except looking up instead of down, of course. Now, Gael, rest one hand on the zipper of Richie’s jeans, as if you wanted him right now.”
“You mean I don’t?” Gael kids.
“You have Gilles, remember?”
“Right. Of course.” Gael tries to do so, this time it’s unavoidable to have his hand on Richie’s dick but he tries to be professional and find a spot where that isn’t quite as obvious. Richie lets out a gasp as the jeans struggle to hold back the strain.
Andy is about to tell Richie to turn to Gael but his voice is caught in his throat as he now is aware Richie is staring right at him. He simply points toward Gael, which gives Richie the message. Somehow, he’s able to get a few shots steady; it's difficult as now he is thankful he abided by the artist’s cliché of wearing all black.
Andy is ready give them a break and let Gael go for the day when the phone’s ring shatters the atmosphere. Gael’s fingers end up unlocking the zipper, which immediately slips down. “Damn it,” he mutters.
When Richie begins to feel a breeze from the flap of his boxers, he jolts away from Gael. The action has the zipper descend the rest of the way, the jeans falling off his ass. The boxers, white in color and drenched in sweat, do nothing to hide his rock-hard cock. He sees the clear outline protruding out and turns away from Gael and Andy so they can’t see any more.
This hadn’t been part of the plan. Andy isn’t sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.
Andy says quietly, “Gael, you’d better go. I’m sure that was Gilles.” Gael nods, thankful to be excused.
When Gael shuts the bathroom door, Andy is shocked to hear Richie apologizing, “I know it was not professional but his hands were driving my body crazy. I mean, I’m not gay or anything but I dare any guy to be able to resist when you’re that close. But now I’m going to ruin everything.”
“What are you talking about?” Andy watches Richie’s back, as he refuses to turn around. Richie is pulling at the jeans, giving Andy a better view of his ass.
“This is going to sound stupid but I can’t get back in my pants. I mean, your pants. I… can’t.”
“Gael’s in the bathroom.”
“I know. Shit. I wanted you to be impressed because I know you’re giving me this amazing opportunity. Instead, I get turned on and now it’s ruining the shoot.”
This sets Andy off. Forget about his own throbbing erection, which he had been able to conceal prior to that clear vision of Richie’s cock through the see-through boxers. He walks over to console the guy. “Don’t freak out.”
“Alize was convinced you were hitting on me but I said this would be my big break. I’m glad I talked her out of coming here today. She’d laugh at me.”
Andy hates how out-of-control this has gotten. He sets a hand on Richie’s arm, which is still struggling with the jeans. “Would you feel better if I was hitting on you?”
“I like that you enjoy your job. That you are meticulous with detail so the result is perfect. Even if getting there involves embarrassment. Sorry.”
Andy has to break away then, shaking his head furiously as he walks over to the counter to focus on his camera. “Stop apologizing. Please stop apologizing. This shoot isn’t real and your girlfriend is right.”
“Really?” Richie’s tone is flat and Andy really doesn’t want to see his reaction. He gives a quick nod it clear Richie is waiting for an answer. “So you are hitting on me? Is this a form of torture you enjoy?”
“It wasn’t supposed to go this far. It was basically over right around when the phone rang.”
Andy hears footsteps then can feel Richie standing right behind him.
“Do you think this is the only way to get a guy to do what you want?”
Andy can’t tell from the even tone if he’s about to get pounded into the ground. “That’s not the story.”
“You have to hide behind this photographer’s image… you are a real photographer, after all… for what? You have success.”
Can’t tell him to stop talking or else Andy won’t have that “real” photography career. Can’t answer that question truthfully either because… well, he just can’t. So he says flatly, “Absolute power corrupts absolutely.”
“Funny. I am seeing this as I have the power. You need me in order to keep your career. Maybe you’ll get to keep that. But you have to do exactly what I say.”
Chapter 2
Author: Kris S.
Fandom: Tennis RPS
Pairings: Andy Murray/Richard Gasquet; this chapter only: Gasquet/Gael Monfils
Other Players: Alize Cornet
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: This did not happen.
Summary: AU. Andy is a photographer who has found the perfect model to manipulate.
Author's Note: This first chapter is based off an original fiction I wrote last year. So if you find it, yes, it is me - guess you can say I'm plagiarizing myself.
Andy gets a kick out of making the pretty boys uncomfortable. That's what he tells himself whenever he sets up a session like this.
"Are you Andrew Murray?" Ah, the new one. Andy looks up to find the guy he met outside the grounds of the US Open. A Frenchman who loved following the sport like a pathetic groupie, his favorite player had been Justine Henin. Sure, he said that it was because her game was so beautiful, blah blah blah. Andy saw a picture of her and was convinced this Richie would be the perfect one for this piece.
That day, Richie's girlfriend Alize was clutching his arm, perfectly aware that she had good eye candy and wanted it to be clear to all. Okay, so she was a tennis player, making his pilgrimage to the states appear a little less crazy.
Andy was a legitimate photographer. He had a portfolio to prove it. His provocative photos had been featured in ad campaigns, billboards posted throughout the United States. Hiding behind a camera while more explicit activity took place was a natural extension.
He leads Richie into the apartment. It's a workspace doubling as his home. After all, the price of an apartment in New York, even for a plain hole-in-the-wall, was quite high.
"So you said this..." Richie stops dead in his tracks upon seeing Gael lounging on the couch in a sleeveless tee and worn-out jeans. "What, exactly, is this shoot about?"
"Well, it's a black and white piece. No pun intended. It's just that Gael photographs magnificently and I need a contrast. Gael, this is Ri-shard."
Gael extends his hand, which Richie accepts. "Nice to meet you, Richie."
Richie is fidgeting with his pocket, suddenly appearing uncomfortable with the situation. "Mr. Murray, I think there's been a misunderstanding."
"You find Gael intimidating?" Andy asked, knowing it would work well to question Richie's manhood. Yes, Gael is a few inches taller but it's the guy's physique that made it appear to be more. Hell, Andy himself was nearly Gael's height but there was no comparison as to who was more intimidating. Even though technically, Gael was Andy's assistant on the real photo shoots.
The thing was that Gael loved watching boys like Richie squirm. Then there were the perks of this side job.
Gael grabs the pile of clothes on the couch and hands them to Richie. Just a simple white t-shirt and jeans. Andy had already told Richie this was for a cologne campaign, so the clothing was not the focus. Made it easy to get cheap attire. If it was maybe a size or so too small, well, that would be the plan, actually.
Richie looks from Gael to the clothes to Andy, wanting to say something but not sure what. He heads to the bathroom to change.
Gael comments, "You're picking very well, Andy. I didn't think you could lure a Frenchman. At least I can speak to him in my native tongue."
"Yeah, well, I'd prefer you didn't do that. He looks downright adorable when fumbling for the correct English phrase."
"I understand you. So, you think he's bi? You mentioned the girlfriend but he's much prettier than her."
"How do you know that?"
"I follow tennis, especially this time of year. Alize Cornet is pretty but she's no Richie."
Andy kidded, "You also have strange taste in men. That Spanish player who's now number 1?"
"It's the arms, man."
"Yeah, they're scarier than yours."
When Richie returns, Andy and Gael stop bantering and exchange glances, then both smile. Andy explains, “Okay, you don’t really have to do much. Gael will be doing most of the movement. I need you to appear as if you’re in charge. Just cross your arms over your chest.”
Richie plants his feet and goes into position, then Andy begins snapping. Gael stands behind Richie, muscular arms trapping him in this pose as Gael settles his hands on Richie’s waist.
“Er, Mr. Murray…”
Andy cuts him off. “Let him go.” Richie breathes a sigh of relief as Gael does so. It is short-lived as Andy continues, “The t-shirt isn’t working. Lose it.”
Richie stares at the photographer, wanting to complain but relents, revealing his nicely tanned and toned upper body.
Andy nods. “That’s better. Gael, back in position.” Gael grins and Richie frowns as there is now no fabric separating this touch. “I want it to seem as if you’re both in the picture. Gael, rest your chin on Richie’s shoulder. But not a cheesy Hallmark thing, more possessive.”
“I think I understand,” Gael says. His hands slip down so his thumbs are hanging on the pockets of Richie’s jeans then settles on his shoulder, his gaze toward the more nervous partner.
Andy smiles. This really is working well as Richie stiffens his posture. From Gael’s position, he imagines that his breath is tickling Richie’s ear. Richie will wish his girlfriend felt this good.
That said, Andy could see room for improvement in the pose. Even though this wasn’t for a publication, the perfectionist in him wouldn’t let the picture stay. “Neither of you move. Just…”
Andy sets the camera down and approaches them. He stands right in front of Richie and undoes the button of the jeans, then adjusts the band of the boxers so it’s not in view.
Richie is studying the photographer the entire time. Andy feels eyes on him but doesn’t want to see the expression. On the other hand, it means Andy is looking down, right at Richie’s hardening cock. Andy tells himself that Gael is doing his job perfectly, not wanting to admit anything further.
When Andy backs away, he gets another idea. “Gael, lay your hands flat against the jeans, but pull down on the thumbs in the pocket. Got me?”
Gael gives a wide smile. His fingers accidentally touch Richie’s cock, to which Gael whispers an apology he doesn’t mean, before settling on the upper thigh. Fingers wrap inside Richie’s thigh, so he’s still pretty close to the ultimate goal. The jeans are hanging dangerously low now, exposing hip bones and a trace of hair.
Richie’s face reddens as he struggles not to react, to no avail. He squeaks out, “Are we going to be much longer?”
“I’m not sure. Why, is there some place you need to be?” Andy stares right into Richie’s wide eyes, daring him to object.
“No… it’s just… nevermind.” Beads of sweat trail down his torso, more on edge by the moment.
Andy hides his smile. Richie doesn’t seem to know how to speak up, to get out of this soft porn situation.
Gael says, “Actually, I do. I’m supposed to meet Gilles pretty soon.”
“Fair enough.” This is also part of the plan. That Gael riles the guy up then leaves them alone. What happens after that depends on the guy. “Then let’s try one more position before you have to leave. I can try a few with just Richie after. From that position, Richie, I want you to turn toward Gael as if you’re going to kiss him.”
“I’m not, right? I don’t make out with guys.”
“No, you’re not,” Andy promises. “Just look at him the way you’d look at your girlfriend. Well, except looking up instead of down, of course. Now, Gael, rest one hand on the zipper of Richie’s jeans, as if you wanted him right now.”
“You mean I don’t?” Gael kids.
“You have Gilles, remember?”
“Right. Of course.” Gael tries to do so, this time it’s unavoidable to have his hand on Richie’s dick but he tries to be professional and find a spot where that isn’t quite as obvious. Richie lets out a gasp as the jeans struggle to hold back the strain.
Andy is about to tell Richie to turn to Gael but his voice is caught in his throat as he now is aware Richie is staring right at him. He simply points toward Gael, which gives Richie the message. Somehow, he’s able to get a few shots steady; it's difficult as now he is thankful he abided by the artist’s cliché of wearing all black.
Andy is ready give them a break and let Gael go for the day when the phone’s ring shatters the atmosphere. Gael’s fingers end up unlocking the zipper, which immediately slips down. “Damn it,” he mutters.
When Richie begins to feel a breeze from the flap of his boxers, he jolts away from Gael. The action has the zipper descend the rest of the way, the jeans falling off his ass. The boxers, white in color and drenched in sweat, do nothing to hide his rock-hard cock. He sees the clear outline protruding out and turns away from Gael and Andy so they can’t see any more.
This hadn’t been part of the plan. Andy isn’t sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.
Andy says quietly, “Gael, you’d better go. I’m sure that was Gilles.” Gael nods, thankful to be excused.
When Gael shuts the bathroom door, Andy is shocked to hear Richie apologizing, “I know it was not professional but his hands were driving my body crazy. I mean, I’m not gay or anything but I dare any guy to be able to resist when you’re that close. But now I’m going to ruin everything.”
“What are you talking about?” Andy watches Richie’s back, as he refuses to turn around. Richie is pulling at the jeans, giving Andy a better view of his ass.
“This is going to sound stupid but I can’t get back in my pants. I mean, your pants. I… can’t.”
“Gael’s in the bathroom.”
“I know. Shit. I wanted you to be impressed because I know you’re giving me this amazing opportunity. Instead, I get turned on and now it’s ruining the shoot.”
This sets Andy off. Forget about his own throbbing erection, which he had been able to conceal prior to that clear vision of Richie’s cock through the see-through boxers. He walks over to console the guy. “Don’t freak out.”
“Alize was convinced you were hitting on me but I said this would be my big break. I’m glad I talked her out of coming here today. She’d laugh at me.”
Andy hates how out-of-control this has gotten. He sets a hand on Richie’s arm, which is still struggling with the jeans. “Would you feel better if I was hitting on you?”
“I like that you enjoy your job. That you are meticulous with detail so the result is perfect. Even if getting there involves embarrassment. Sorry.”
Andy has to break away then, shaking his head furiously as he walks over to the counter to focus on his camera. “Stop apologizing. Please stop apologizing. This shoot isn’t real and your girlfriend is right.”
“Really?” Richie’s tone is flat and Andy really doesn’t want to see his reaction. He gives a quick nod it clear Richie is waiting for an answer. “So you are hitting on me? Is this a form of torture you enjoy?”
“It wasn’t supposed to go this far. It was basically over right around when the phone rang.”
Andy hears footsteps then can feel Richie standing right behind him.
“Do you think this is the only way to get a guy to do what you want?”
Andy can’t tell from the even tone if he’s about to get pounded into the ground. “That’s not the story.”
“You have to hide behind this photographer’s image… you are a real photographer, after all… for what? You have success.”
Can’t tell him to stop talking or else Andy won’t have that “real” photography career. Can’t answer that question truthfully either because… well, he just can’t. So he says flatly, “Absolute power corrupts absolutely.”
“Funny. I am seeing this as I have the power. You need me in order to keep your career. Maybe you’ll get to keep that. But you have to do exactly what I say.”
Chapter 2