[Tennis] All Rise
Title: All Rise
Pairing: Nicolás Almagro/David Ferrer
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Created in a world of pure imagination: no money changed hands, no actuality implied, no offence intended.
A/N: In which Nico moonlights as a member of Blue, with surprising results. ~3K
The restaurant was small and intimate, and that's why David had chosen it. It had become a tradition for Nico and him to go out for dinner after each round of a Grand Slam so that Nico could rehash his matches without the rest of the tour sticking their oars in. The trouble was, Nico tended to get quite animated and self-recriminatory (whether he won or lost); David had learned the hard way to find quieter, more out of the way places for this to happen.
Although this time, it seemed, they were attracting attention. There were three men at a table nearby who were discussing something urgently, and one of them kept looking across at Nico. David caught Nico's hand as it waved around re-enacting another failed backhand, and pressed it into the table with a murmured, 'Shh, you're doing it again!'
'Sorry,' Nico muttered, 'I just can't believe I was so stupid, I should have beaten Zopp much more easily!'
'It's OK,' David soothed, 'Just… keep it down a little, people are staring.'
As Nico paused to shovel more dessert into his face, David glanced across at the other table, looking away quickly as he caught the man staring again. David had never understood how people could spend so much time sculpting their hair into such perfect peaks-shampoo, towel, comb was enough for him-but this guy had clearly spent hours on his appearance. When their eyes met once more, the stranger got up and approached their table.
'Hi,' he said, spinning a chair round and sitting astride it. 'You're right, it is me!'
This was said with the easy confidence of someone who was used to being recognised; David shrugged self-consciously at having no idea who he was.
'Duncan?' the man went on, 'Duncan James? From Blue?' He pointed at his table; the other two men waved back. With a slight frown at David and Nico's confused faces, Duncan ploughed on.
'OK, you don't know who I am. That's… refreshing, I suppose. Anyway, this is going to sound strange, but I kind of have a bit of a favour to ask…'
He spoke quickly and his accent was strong; David struggled to keep up. Nico, however, seemed to follow more closely, and gave David rapid translations each time Duncan paused for breath.
'He's from Blue… They're a boyband… Split up a while ago but got back together this year… Playing a concert on Friday… One of them's got flu and can't perform… They've been debating whether to go on as a three-piece or cancel…'
David's confusion grew, he had no idea why this complete stranger was even telling them this, then Nico gasped in shock. Duncan grinned broadly, looking from one to the other, nodding like a benevolent monarch bestowing a great honour. David had to nudge Nico, urging him to tell him what Duncan had said.
'I, um. I look just like the guy who's ill, apparently. They-they want me to cover for him.'
David got back from his early-morning practice session the next day to find Nico practically bouncing off the walls with excitement.
'I've been Googling all morning, and it really isn't a wind-up! They are a real band, they were quite big a few years ago, and Duncan has a point, I do kind of look like Antony, look!'
He thrust his iPad under David's nose, and David bit back his sarcastic comment about how Nico was now on first-name terms with someone he'd never even heard of twenty-four hours ago and tried to look interested. The music wasn't his kind of thing at all, and Nico was naïve and gullible; David, more cynical, was sceptical of Duncan's motives.
He'd just have to make sure he was there for Nico when things went wrong.
To his surprise, the rehearsal venue was an actual studio (well, as far as he could tell, having had no prior experience of one). He took a seat at the back of the room as Duncan greeted Nico warmly and led him to the front to meet his new band mates.
It was clear to David right from the start that Duncan was intent on flirting with Nico-and equally clear that Nico had no idea how to rebuff him. From the moment Duncan helped Nico dress in Antony's stage clothes he was stroking his cheek and dripping elaborate compliments.
'You really look just like him! Only… your skin's much smoother, and you're way more toned, we're going to have to get those jeans altered-do you work out?'
'Um… something like that,' Nico mumbled, looking helplessly at David.
David just snorted and let him get on with it.
'OK, it's not hard,' one of the other band members was saying, 'We don't dance much: we sit down, we stand up, we lean, we sit down, we stand up, we lean. We're only doing three songs; if you want to watch we'll go through them first, then you can try to join in.'
'They look ridiculous,' David scoffed as the three members of Blue showed Nico the routine to All Rise.
'You're such a grump, I don't even know why you bothered coming,' Nico teased.
David folded his arms determinedly. 'Because I don't trust them. And someone needs to keep an eye on you.'
Nico blushed and muttered something under his breath, then got up to join his new band mates.
An hour later, as Nico looked to be getting the hang of it, David got up to leave. Nico immediately stopped what he was doing and bounded over to say goodbye, closely followed by his brand new shadow.
'Aww, can't take the heat? Are our moves turning you on too much?'
David's hand itched to slap the smugness right off Duncan's face but, for Nico's sake he limited himself to a curt, 'I have to go, I am playing tennis.'
'Oh, really? That's nice. I play a bit to keep in shape, too. Where are you playing?'
'Uh. Wimbledon.'
It was almost impossible not to laugh as Duncan's jaw literally dropped, but somehow David managed it. He shared a conspiratorial smile with Nico.
'…Wimbledon?' Duncan croaked. 'The Wimbledon? You're… good, then?'
'He's ranked 4th in the world!' Nico announced proudly. David elbowed him.
'Shut up, Nico! Don't brag!' Then, ignoring his own advice, he added equally proudly, 'Nico is Top Twenty too…'
While Duncan looked between them in stunned disbelief, David took his opportunity to hug Nico goodbye.
As he left, he heard the music starting up again.
The next rehearsal David went to was a couple of days later. Despite his distraction, Nico had managed to dispatch Guillame Rufin and was spending his whole rest day on rehearsals in preparation for the following night's concert.
David still couldn't quite believe he was going through with it, that Nico-sensitive, insecure Nico-was prepared to put himself on stage in front of thousands of people. When he said as much, though, Nico laughed it off.
'It's OK, Ferru, because if I fuck things up they'll think it's Antony! I'm having fun with it-when I was little I used to dream of being a pop star, and now I have a chance! You should be happy for me.'
David tried to bluster his way through a strange embarrassment at being chided. 'It would be easier to be happy for you if I hadn't had to listen to those same three songs through the wall constantly!'
There was an awkwardness to Nico's laughter, and David was relieved when they reached the studio.
Until Duncan got hands-on again.
Throwing himself into a chair in the corner of the room, David watched Nico blossom under the attention and shameless flattery.
'You move so well, Nico, it's amazing how quickly you've picked it all up-but, here, you need your hand on your hip like this as you lean, see?' Duncan demonstrated with his own hand on Nico's hip, and David couldn't help muttering,
'I think he knows where his own fucking hip is.'
Except, he didn't mutter it. And he said it in English. Duncan looked over at him with a mocking smirk.
'Whoops, Nico, your boyfriend's getting cross with me!'
'He is not my boyfriend!' Nico blushed.
'He isn't?' Duncan looked amused. 'He's certainly hanging round like a jealous boyfriend!'
Nico laughed nervously and started the song playing again. In his corner, David glowered.
It was halfway through the rehearsal that it happened: Nico started singing along.
'I'm sorry!' he gasped into the ensuing silence. 'I didn't mean to!'
He fidgeted nervously, as the other three watched him intently.
'Why the fucking hell didn't you tell us you could sing?' The blond one-David thought his name was Lee-sounded shellshocked.
'Oh. I didn't want to be pushy. But… I learned all Antony's parts,' Nico admitted shyly
'Dude! Fancy keeping a talent like that hidden! Come on, let's do this properly.'
Lee started the song again, and this time Nico threw himself into it. He was amazing, David thought as he watched in astonishment. The perpetual repeat plays of those songs had paid off; he really looked like he belonged.
The rest of the rehearsal passed in a blur as they tightened their performance with each run through, and David couldn't look away from Nico. He looked born to it, David thought, as he stepped, leaned and turned in time-even ad-libbing on some of the runs.
When they'd finished, David's enthusiasm was genuine as he hugged Nico tightly and told him he was brilliant. Nico flushed with pride as the band made arrangements for the gig the following night.
'Totally wants to be your boyfriend,' he heard Duncan murmuring.
David ignored him.
They both had matches on the day of the concert, so they barely saw each other all day. Given that the drive to Newmarket would take two hours (not allowing for getting-lost time), Nico, for once, didn't pull himself to pieces for losing to Janowicz in straight sets.
When David met him in the locker room after his match, the first thing he said was how nervous he was. This was illustrated when he stepped into the shower with his match-clothes still on, and started to shampoo his face. David felt obliged to step in and help him because, in that state, who knew what he might have done with his loofah?
'Relax,' David soothed as he peeled off Nico's sodden clothes and made sure shower gel was applied where it was supposed to be. 'You'll be OK, really you will.'
'Ferru, will you drive, please, I'm far too nervous, I'll probably crash.'
David was touched by Nico's tacit assumption that David would be going with him, and tugged his own forelock.
''Course I will, sir-Chauffer Ferrer at your service!'
David hated driving in England but, like Nico had said, he was clearly too nervous to have driven himself. When David suggested they stop for dinner Nico told him to keep driving-even when David said he could skip the main course and go straight to dessert if he wanted to.
'You're not on stage until ten o'clock, we've got nearly four hours yet!' David ignored him and pulled into the next service station to stock up on supplies.
When they finally reached Newmarket the atmosphere in the car was fraught. With every mile that passed Nico grew more rigid and tense, and all of the suggestions David made to alleviate it ('Sing to me to loosen your voice', 'drink more water, keep hydrated', 'eat an energy bar, you have to eat something!') were shot down ('No, I can't, Duncan said I shouldn't'). Consequently, when they got out of the car David would have cheerfully punched Duncan in his ridiculous, over-sculpted head.
The hug Nico gave him, though, dulled that urge a little. In fact David began to wonder if he would ever let go, as he clung on tightly and muttered constantly into David's shoulder,
'Thank you, Ferru, I'm so grateful to you for coming, I'd never have made it here without you, what if I'm shit?'
This last question was so plaintive that David forbore to mention Nico's response when he himself had raised such a concern. Instead, he disentangled himself and rested his hands on Nico's shoulders.
'Nicolás Almagro Sánchez, you listen to me. You are going to be brilliant. I don't know how you kept that voice secret from us all for so long, but it's incredible. You've been practising so hard, you know the songs inside out-hell, even I know them, you've rehearsed that much-' he broke off to demonstrate a few steps, gratified to see a smile cross Nico's face.
'Trust me, you will be brilliant. And now I'm repeating myself, and… here comes Duncan, you better go before he lynches me.'
Nico was still smiling as he walked towards Duncan, returning his big thumbs-up.
David found himself crossing his fingers tightly as he waited for the show to start.
He needn't have worried.
Somehow Nico suppressed his nerves, and sailed through his performance. David watched from the wings, pinching himself every now and then as he reminded himself that the confident, suave man on the stage, keeping perfect time and perfect harmony was Nico. Part of him wished the others were here to see this-Nico deserved to have his talent recognised and acknowledged-but a more furtive part of him took a secretive thrill from being the only one who knew.
'Duncan was right, wasn't he? You are jealous.'
David had forgotten Antony was watching beside him, until he spoke up.
'No, I not jealous, I just-proud, no?' David's English deserted him. He shrugged in confusion and looked away.
'Bollocks you are, mate. It's clear as day. You should tell him, or Duncan'll have him.'
'That was fucking amazing!' The set had finished, and David and Antony were surrounded by four sweaty, adrenaline-fuelled bodies, all clamouring at once.
'You, in particular, were incredible,' Duncan continued, his arm slung casually around Nico's shoulder. 'Are you sure you don't want to stick with us?'
Nico was smiling too broadly to speak and, breathing heavily, leaned in and rested his head on Duncan's shoulder. David felt his temper unravelling.
'Oi!' Antony protested indignantly, but Duncan ignored him. Pulling Nico around to face him, he leaned forward until their foreheads were touching.
'You want to swap with Antony?' he murmured. 'He can go play tennis, and I'll keep you. I kind of like having you around.'
'OK, that is enough, we are going!' David snapped. He grabbed Nico's arm, snatched him out of Duncan's clutches and marched him away without looking back.
'David, what-where are you going? We can't just run away, it's rude!'
David muttered continuously under his breath, but he didn't stop. Nico's protests continued,
'Look, I don't know what's got into you, but you can't drag me away without letting me say thank you. I should at least say goodbye!'
David stopped suddenly and ducked them behind an equipment truck. Satisfied they were out of sight, he turned to Nico.
'I'm sorry, Nico, but I couldn't watch him coming onto you a moment longer.'
'Duncan?' Nico was incredulous. 'He's harmless! He thinks he's so irresistible, but he's not. I can handle him, it's fine!'
'No, dummy, it's not fine.' David took Nico's hands and took a step closer, until their bodies were touching. 'He was right. I might not be your boyfriend, but I am jealous. Very jealous. Watching him flirting with you showed me how much. You were so hot tonight, I could barely stand it.'
Stretching up slightly, David leaned in and kissed him, firmly and determinedly.
'And that,' panted David when they broke apart, 'was what's got into me.'
'About time, too.' Nico murmured as he tangled his hands in David's hair and pulled him in for another kiss.
Eventually they came up for air.
'Come on,' David said, 'let's get out of here before we get caught and arrested for public indecency. Feli would never let us hear the end of it.'
'Oh,' Nico pouted, 'I was really looking forward to the after-show party, too.'
When they finally made it back to David's car (Nico had insisted they go back to say thank you and goodbye; David had not let go of Nico the whole time, much to Duncan's amusement) they headed to the nearest hotel they could find.
Where they spent the next few hours having their own after-show party. For two.
FIN
Notes:
Blue are a British boyband from the early 2000s who recently reformed as part of ITV's Big Reunion. Nico totally looks like Antony Costa (who, incidentally, is my favourite-you can keep your Duncan Jameses and Lee Ryans, tbh).
The gig in question was a one-off at Newmarket Racecourse which fitted in, rather serendipitously, with Wimbledon (and, more importantly, meant Nico didn't have to learn a whole two-hour set list).
These are the songs he covered. Feel free to imagine him dancing to them in these jeans.
Pairing: Nicolás Almagro/David Ferrer
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Created in a world of pure imagination: no money changed hands, no actuality implied, no offence intended.
A/N: In which Nico moonlights as a member of Blue, with surprising results. ~3K
The restaurant was small and intimate, and that's why David had chosen it. It had become a tradition for Nico and him to go out for dinner after each round of a Grand Slam so that Nico could rehash his matches without the rest of the tour sticking their oars in. The trouble was, Nico tended to get quite animated and self-recriminatory (whether he won or lost); David had learned the hard way to find quieter, more out of the way places for this to happen.
Although this time, it seemed, they were attracting attention. There were three men at a table nearby who were discussing something urgently, and one of them kept looking across at Nico. David caught Nico's hand as it waved around re-enacting another failed backhand, and pressed it into the table with a murmured, 'Shh, you're doing it again!'
'Sorry,' Nico muttered, 'I just can't believe I was so stupid, I should have beaten Zopp much more easily!'
'It's OK,' David soothed, 'Just… keep it down a little, people are staring.'
As Nico paused to shovel more dessert into his face, David glanced across at the other table, looking away quickly as he caught the man staring again. David had never understood how people could spend so much time sculpting their hair into such perfect peaks-shampoo, towel, comb was enough for him-but this guy had clearly spent hours on his appearance. When their eyes met once more, the stranger got up and approached their table.
'Hi,' he said, spinning a chair round and sitting astride it. 'You're right, it is me!'
This was said with the easy confidence of someone who was used to being recognised; David shrugged self-consciously at having no idea who he was.
'Duncan?' the man went on, 'Duncan James? From Blue?' He pointed at his table; the other two men waved back. With a slight frown at David and Nico's confused faces, Duncan ploughed on.
'OK, you don't know who I am. That's… refreshing, I suppose. Anyway, this is going to sound strange, but I kind of have a bit of a favour to ask…'
He spoke quickly and his accent was strong; David struggled to keep up. Nico, however, seemed to follow more closely, and gave David rapid translations each time Duncan paused for breath.
'He's from Blue… They're a boyband… Split up a while ago but got back together this year… Playing a concert on Friday… One of them's got flu and can't perform… They've been debating whether to go on as a three-piece or cancel…'
David's confusion grew, he had no idea why this complete stranger was even telling them this, then Nico gasped in shock. Duncan grinned broadly, looking from one to the other, nodding like a benevolent monarch bestowing a great honour. David had to nudge Nico, urging him to tell him what Duncan had said.
'I, um. I look just like the guy who's ill, apparently. They-they want me to cover for him.'
David got back from his early-morning practice session the next day to find Nico practically bouncing off the walls with excitement.
'I've been Googling all morning, and it really isn't a wind-up! They are a real band, they were quite big a few years ago, and Duncan has a point, I do kind of look like Antony, look!'
He thrust his iPad under David's nose, and David bit back his sarcastic comment about how Nico was now on first-name terms with someone he'd never even heard of twenty-four hours ago and tried to look interested. The music wasn't his kind of thing at all, and Nico was naïve and gullible; David, more cynical, was sceptical of Duncan's motives.
He'd just have to make sure he was there for Nico when things went wrong.
To his surprise, the rehearsal venue was an actual studio (well, as far as he could tell, having had no prior experience of one). He took a seat at the back of the room as Duncan greeted Nico warmly and led him to the front to meet his new band mates.
It was clear to David right from the start that Duncan was intent on flirting with Nico-and equally clear that Nico had no idea how to rebuff him. From the moment Duncan helped Nico dress in Antony's stage clothes he was stroking his cheek and dripping elaborate compliments.
'You really look just like him! Only… your skin's much smoother, and you're way more toned, we're going to have to get those jeans altered-do you work out?'
'Um… something like that,' Nico mumbled, looking helplessly at David.
David just snorted and let him get on with it.
'OK, it's not hard,' one of the other band members was saying, 'We don't dance much: we sit down, we stand up, we lean, we sit down, we stand up, we lean. We're only doing three songs; if you want to watch we'll go through them first, then you can try to join in.'
'They look ridiculous,' David scoffed as the three members of Blue showed Nico the routine to All Rise.
'You're such a grump, I don't even know why you bothered coming,' Nico teased.
David folded his arms determinedly. 'Because I don't trust them. And someone needs to keep an eye on you.'
Nico blushed and muttered something under his breath, then got up to join his new band mates.
An hour later, as Nico looked to be getting the hang of it, David got up to leave. Nico immediately stopped what he was doing and bounded over to say goodbye, closely followed by his brand new shadow.
'Aww, can't take the heat? Are our moves turning you on too much?'
David's hand itched to slap the smugness right off Duncan's face but, for Nico's sake he limited himself to a curt, 'I have to go, I am playing tennis.'
'Oh, really? That's nice. I play a bit to keep in shape, too. Where are you playing?'
'Uh. Wimbledon.'
It was almost impossible not to laugh as Duncan's jaw literally dropped, but somehow David managed it. He shared a conspiratorial smile with Nico.
'…Wimbledon?' Duncan croaked. 'The Wimbledon? You're… good, then?'
'He's ranked 4th in the world!' Nico announced proudly. David elbowed him.
'Shut up, Nico! Don't brag!' Then, ignoring his own advice, he added equally proudly, 'Nico is Top Twenty too…'
While Duncan looked between them in stunned disbelief, David took his opportunity to hug Nico goodbye.
As he left, he heard the music starting up again.
The next rehearsal David went to was a couple of days later. Despite his distraction, Nico had managed to dispatch Guillame Rufin and was spending his whole rest day on rehearsals in preparation for the following night's concert.
David still couldn't quite believe he was going through with it, that Nico-sensitive, insecure Nico-was prepared to put himself on stage in front of thousands of people. When he said as much, though, Nico laughed it off.
'It's OK, Ferru, because if I fuck things up they'll think it's Antony! I'm having fun with it-when I was little I used to dream of being a pop star, and now I have a chance! You should be happy for me.'
David tried to bluster his way through a strange embarrassment at being chided. 'It would be easier to be happy for you if I hadn't had to listen to those same three songs through the wall constantly!'
There was an awkwardness to Nico's laughter, and David was relieved when they reached the studio.
Until Duncan got hands-on again.
Throwing himself into a chair in the corner of the room, David watched Nico blossom under the attention and shameless flattery.
'You move so well, Nico, it's amazing how quickly you've picked it all up-but, here, you need your hand on your hip like this as you lean, see?' Duncan demonstrated with his own hand on Nico's hip, and David couldn't help muttering,
'I think he knows where his own fucking hip is.'
Except, he didn't mutter it. And he said it in English. Duncan looked over at him with a mocking smirk.
'Whoops, Nico, your boyfriend's getting cross with me!'
'He is not my boyfriend!' Nico blushed.
'He isn't?' Duncan looked amused. 'He's certainly hanging round like a jealous boyfriend!'
Nico laughed nervously and started the song playing again. In his corner, David glowered.
It was halfway through the rehearsal that it happened: Nico started singing along.
'I'm sorry!' he gasped into the ensuing silence. 'I didn't mean to!'
He fidgeted nervously, as the other three watched him intently.
'Why the fucking hell didn't you tell us you could sing?' The blond one-David thought his name was Lee-sounded shellshocked.
'Oh. I didn't want to be pushy. But… I learned all Antony's parts,' Nico admitted shyly
'Dude! Fancy keeping a talent like that hidden! Come on, let's do this properly.'
Lee started the song again, and this time Nico threw himself into it. He was amazing, David thought as he watched in astonishment. The perpetual repeat plays of those songs had paid off; he really looked like he belonged.
The rest of the rehearsal passed in a blur as they tightened their performance with each run through, and David couldn't look away from Nico. He looked born to it, David thought, as he stepped, leaned and turned in time-even ad-libbing on some of the runs.
When they'd finished, David's enthusiasm was genuine as he hugged Nico tightly and told him he was brilliant. Nico flushed with pride as the band made arrangements for the gig the following night.
'Totally wants to be your boyfriend,' he heard Duncan murmuring.
David ignored him.
They both had matches on the day of the concert, so they barely saw each other all day. Given that the drive to Newmarket would take two hours (not allowing for getting-lost time), Nico, for once, didn't pull himself to pieces for losing to Janowicz in straight sets.
When David met him in the locker room after his match, the first thing he said was how nervous he was. This was illustrated when he stepped into the shower with his match-clothes still on, and started to shampoo his face. David felt obliged to step in and help him because, in that state, who knew what he might have done with his loofah?
'Relax,' David soothed as he peeled off Nico's sodden clothes and made sure shower gel was applied where it was supposed to be. 'You'll be OK, really you will.'
'Ferru, will you drive, please, I'm far too nervous, I'll probably crash.'
David was touched by Nico's tacit assumption that David would be going with him, and tugged his own forelock.
''Course I will, sir-Chauffer Ferrer at your service!'
David hated driving in England but, like Nico had said, he was clearly too nervous to have driven himself. When David suggested they stop for dinner Nico told him to keep driving-even when David said he could skip the main course and go straight to dessert if he wanted to.
'You're not on stage until ten o'clock, we've got nearly four hours yet!' David ignored him and pulled into the next service station to stock up on supplies.
When they finally reached Newmarket the atmosphere in the car was fraught. With every mile that passed Nico grew more rigid and tense, and all of the suggestions David made to alleviate it ('Sing to me to loosen your voice', 'drink more water, keep hydrated', 'eat an energy bar, you have to eat something!') were shot down ('No, I can't, Duncan said I shouldn't'). Consequently, when they got out of the car David would have cheerfully punched Duncan in his ridiculous, over-sculpted head.
The hug Nico gave him, though, dulled that urge a little. In fact David began to wonder if he would ever let go, as he clung on tightly and muttered constantly into David's shoulder,
'Thank you, Ferru, I'm so grateful to you for coming, I'd never have made it here without you, what if I'm shit?'
This last question was so plaintive that David forbore to mention Nico's response when he himself had raised such a concern. Instead, he disentangled himself and rested his hands on Nico's shoulders.
'Nicolás Almagro Sánchez, you listen to me. You are going to be brilliant. I don't know how you kept that voice secret from us all for so long, but it's incredible. You've been practising so hard, you know the songs inside out-hell, even I know them, you've rehearsed that much-' he broke off to demonstrate a few steps, gratified to see a smile cross Nico's face.
'Trust me, you will be brilliant. And now I'm repeating myself, and… here comes Duncan, you better go before he lynches me.'
Nico was still smiling as he walked towards Duncan, returning his big thumbs-up.
David found himself crossing his fingers tightly as he waited for the show to start.
He needn't have worried.
Somehow Nico suppressed his nerves, and sailed through his performance. David watched from the wings, pinching himself every now and then as he reminded himself that the confident, suave man on the stage, keeping perfect time and perfect harmony was Nico. Part of him wished the others were here to see this-Nico deserved to have his talent recognised and acknowledged-but a more furtive part of him took a secretive thrill from being the only one who knew.
'Duncan was right, wasn't he? You are jealous.'
David had forgotten Antony was watching beside him, until he spoke up.
'No, I not jealous, I just-proud, no?' David's English deserted him. He shrugged in confusion and looked away.
'Bollocks you are, mate. It's clear as day. You should tell him, or Duncan'll have him.'
'That was fucking amazing!' The set had finished, and David and Antony were surrounded by four sweaty, adrenaline-fuelled bodies, all clamouring at once.
'You, in particular, were incredible,' Duncan continued, his arm slung casually around Nico's shoulder. 'Are you sure you don't want to stick with us?'
Nico was smiling too broadly to speak and, breathing heavily, leaned in and rested his head on Duncan's shoulder. David felt his temper unravelling.
'Oi!' Antony protested indignantly, but Duncan ignored him. Pulling Nico around to face him, he leaned forward until their foreheads were touching.
'You want to swap with Antony?' he murmured. 'He can go play tennis, and I'll keep you. I kind of like having you around.'
'OK, that is enough, we are going!' David snapped. He grabbed Nico's arm, snatched him out of Duncan's clutches and marched him away without looking back.
'David, what-where are you going? We can't just run away, it's rude!'
David muttered continuously under his breath, but he didn't stop. Nico's protests continued,
'Look, I don't know what's got into you, but you can't drag me away without letting me say thank you. I should at least say goodbye!'
David stopped suddenly and ducked them behind an equipment truck. Satisfied they were out of sight, he turned to Nico.
'I'm sorry, Nico, but I couldn't watch him coming onto you a moment longer.'
'Duncan?' Nico was incredulous. 'He's harmless! He thinks he's so irresistible, but he's not. I can handle him, it's fine!'
'No, dummy, it's not fine.' David took Nico's hands and took a step closer, until their bodies were touching. 'He was right. I might not be your boyfriend, but I am jealous. Very jealous. Watching him flirting with you showed me how much. You were so hot tonight, I could barely stand it.'
Stretching up slightly, David leaned in and kissed him, firmly and determinedly.
'And that,' panted David when they broke apart, 'was what's got into me.'
'About time, too.' Nico murmured as he tangled his hands in David's hair and pulled him in for another kiss.
Eventually they came up for air.
'Come on,' David said, 'let's get out of here before we get caught and arrested for public indecency. Feli would never let us hear the end of it.'
'Oh,' Nico pouted, 'I was really looking forward to the after-show party, too.'
When they finally made it back to David's car (Nico had insisted they go back to say thank you and goodbye; David had not let go of Nico the whole time, much to Duncan's amusement) they headed to the nearest hotel they could find.
Where they spent the next few hours having their own after-show party. For two.
FIN
Notes:
Blue are a British boyband from the early 2000s who recently reformed as part of ITV's Big Reunion. Nico totally looks like Antony Costa (who, incidentally, is my favourite-you can keep your Duncan Jameses and Lee Ryans, tbh).
The gig in question was a one-off at Newmarket Racecourse which fitted in, rather serendipitously, with Wimbledon (and, more importantly, meant Nico didn't have to learn a whole two-hour set list).
These are the songs he covered. Feel free to imagine him dancing to them in these jeans.
