FIC: I wanna mmm
Title : I wanna mmm PART I
Characters: Stan, Mario
Disclaimer: dunno own them, or
1) Stan wouldn’t fuck with the mono!Mario in this fic ^^(I will make sure he puts condom, dunno worry!!) . This is a penance for Crystaleyesd, who has to be the last person on T_C to check the capslocks in my messages yet: even Jeu tends to get bored XD
2) he would be like a cute sea-horse, changing sex to bear Rogi’s children and then be all male again, coz Rodg is a man whore and needs to be properly and duly fucked.
They had almost never trained for tennis together. It often happened they were practising on adjacent courts though. That day, Mario had been glancing at him since he had entered the practise court. Stan felt bad at ease.He made like he hadn’t noticed it. After one hour of practise, he finally allowed himself to have a break. He sat on the nearest bench. Rejoined by Mario some minutes after, who greeted him, bent on his bag and began busying himself with spare tee-shirts. Stan hadn’t noticed Mario’s bag before seating. His bottle in his hands, he glanced at him. His curls were falling on his brow. Beautiful, dark curls...and his mouth was slighlty opened. He kept staring at him, self-oblivious. Mario suddenly looked up to him and sent him a grin. Stan remained gaping some seconds . Mario was perfectly at ease. He was also perfectly aware of his effect on the Swiss. But he also knew that if he acted know, the young man was going to flee like a shy virgin. Indeed that’s precisely what had seduced him. This guy may fuck every night with an actual beast of sex, you still could read a perfectly innocent look in those green eyes when you happened to catch them.
So Mario just exchanged a few words and left Stan on his bench to go to the locker-room. The latter stayed on it some minutes, thoughtful. An idea had crossed his mind: one year ago, during the same period, Roger had had mononucleosis. He and Stan were not yet in couple. Mario had had mononucleosis. Roger wasn’t indifferent to handsome men. Mario was... . Stan brushed his thoughts away before resuming play. But it made its way in his mind, and the next day, he was decided to ask to Mario if he had made love with Roger. Stan always used “make love” and never “fuck”: he was pretty girlish this way. Roger said neither the first nor the second one: he covered his face with kisses, from his brow to the tip of his nose, and down to his cheeks where Roger moaned about those damn two-days beard hairs, and to the mouth where usually all moans ceased. He wasn’t to ask to Roger, or he would believe he was jealous. He was simply... curious. He was wondering more and more how was making love with Mario.
He had to see him in private. He didn’t knew which room he occupied. His very logic mind, instead of simply asking to the reception of the hotel, decided to ask to Marat. This man always knew where everyone was and what they were making, to the point Stan was wondering if every players were basically telling their lives to him, or if he had kind of an extra-sense for detecting things. The reason was more simple. Marat being the omnipotent King of tennismen whores, he had fucked, was fucking or would fuck one day or another with all the tennis counted of hot guys. Did he knew where the others were? It wasn’t important, nobody searched for those ones. He was only giving informations to other hot guys, of course. And little Stan and his adorable blond head, still doubted of his own statut.
He went to the bar of the hotel, sat at the bar and began to meditate those important things, and ask for a glass of gin. Where gin was, Marat was never far. Stan felt he was approching the aim: the Russian was at the far side of the bar, chatting with Ernests Gulbis, his glass in his hand, the other on the young Latvian hip whose strangely enthusiastic glances certainly accounted for more than slight drunkness, and who was in couple with Nole. But anyway.
Marat had a point to feel when someone had something to ask him. This might be due to the hesitating glances Stan sent him every ten seconds...
His eyes met with the Russian’s ones, and he looked away. Some seconds later, the familiar voice asked in his casual way:
_” So, what do u need, beau jeune homme?”
....
_” Problems of sex with Rodg? Arh, see the point. That’s when he starts to meow? Ridiculous, no?”
But from the face of Stan, that wasn’t the point.
_____________
sequel to come....