Fly me to the moon

[flamyshine]

Title: Fly me to the moon
Pairing: Juan Carlos Ferrero/Marat Safin
Rating: R
Word count: 3,852
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and this is a fiction.
Warnings: Bad language, blackmail, direct mention of a certain body part.
Summary: Juan Carlos was flying on his broom when he got hit and crashed.
Author’s note: I would like to dedicate this semi-Halloween story to my dearest friend jeu_set_match :)



Juan Carlos was heading back home on his broom after a five-hour long, exhausting conference. It was already four o’clock in the morning and he wasn’t happy with how the meeting had gone.

Being a member of Congress, he had argued that witches needed a friendlier image towards humans in order to live an easier life. He had insisted that they should have joint Halloween events with humans. But most of his colleagues were too afraid to even think of getting along with humans and his proposition had been tossed into the wastebasket in no time.

‘Stupid meeting. I don’t know why they even have it every six months when we always talk about the same story and end up with the same conclusion.’

Feeling exhausted after a pointless meeting, he was more than eager to go back home and jump in his comfortable bed. So he sped up but flew low, hoping that he wouldn’t get caught speeding on one of those flying CCTVs, when something flew at his face.

“Eek!!”

The witch turned the direction of his broom and the unidentified object hit him on the shoulder but he had already lost balance and was falling towards the ground.

Thump.

“Ouch!”

Juan Carlos rubbed his right shoulder and frowned when he was suddenly aware that if he had fallen directly on the ground, he wouldn’t even have been able to produce an ouch, which meant that there was something between him and the ground.

“Oops!”

That something was lying underneath him, smelling like a whole box of vodka.

‘Damn. I just threw a bottle in the air and it comes back this heavily? What’s wrong with the law of physics tonight?’

That something, aka Marat Safin, blinked his eyes and realized that his vodka bottle had just moved. And, if his ears were less affected by the uncountable amount of alcohol, his bottle had even yelped.

“What are you?”

Marat had to blink again. That was the question that he wanted to ask. And, usually, people would ask him who he was, not what he was. And, more usually, people didn’t even ask. They all knew who Marat Safin was.

“You don’t know me?”

Juan Carlos couldn’t help but snort. “Do you know me? Of course, I don’t know you. Have we met before?”

“But I’m Marat Safin.”

“Who’s Marat Safin?”

“I’m a tennis player.” Marat stated.

“You’re famous?”

“Well, apparently, not anymore. Which country are you from?” The Russian was thinking about a very small island sinking somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

“Me? I’m from Spain.”

“You’re from Spain and you don’t know me? Did you live in a cage for a decade or what? And why are you dressed in a black robe?”

Juan Carlos wanted to snap at the rude creature but it was too stinky for him. So he pulled out his magic wand and took all the alcohol away from the creature’s system.

“By the way you’re talking, you must be human.” The witch concluded while Marat suddenly became sober.

“What did you do to me? When did the trees stop dancing? What happened?”

Marat panicked but Juan Carlos couldn’t care less.

“If you’re really a tennis player like you said you are, you shouldn’t be walking around that drunk at this time of the night, no? Or have you recently retired?” He couldn’t think of a better reason for someone to lose himself in alcohol at 4 a.m.

“What? No! I’m very active at the moment! I even made the quarterfinals of Wimbledon this year!” Marat was seriously offended.

“Oh, so did you beat Roger Federer?”

“You don’t know me but you know Federer?” Marat tried to avoid answering the question.

“Yes and you’re not answering me.”

The human groaned and the witch took it as a no. He started giggling when a hand lifted his robe.

“Why are you wearing this thing? Already dressed up for Halloween? Where’s your Jack-o’-lantern?” Marat asked, already forgotten about the wand since he was now more interested in what would be underneath the robe.

“I’m a witch, Mr. Safin. And, this is what we wear.”

Marat looked up and then remembered that the witch had made him sober. He wanted to say that he had never seen any witches before and that he didn’t believe in their existence when he realized that the Spaniard was still straddling his chest. Without the influence of alcohol, he was feeling a certain amount of pressure in his chest and in somewhere lower down his body.

“You’re still sitting on me, Mr. Witch.” He stressed the last word as much as he could.

Juan Carlos jumped up from the human and quickly held out a hand. “Oh, I’m sorry. I must’ve been too tired to even realize that. I’m really sorry.”

Marat took the witch’s hand but instead of getting up, he pulled him down with all his might.

“Eek!”

Juan Carlos let out yet another yelp of the night. He was lying on top of the human, face to face. Their lips were only a breath away and even though the Spaniard knew that there was no more alcohol in presence, he felt as if he was under the heavy influence of it.

Meanwhile, Marat was busy swimming inside the immense ocean in Juan Carlos’ eyes. His eyes were jet-black, even darker than the night sky behind him. He had had a lot of different people on his body, but there had never been the perfect one for him. He realized deep inside that the witch on top had just the right weight and just the right size. So the Russian didn’t hesitate and pulled the witch into a kiss.

‘Alert! Alert! Oral intrusion! I repeat, oral intrusion!’

His mind was giving him a red signal which made his arms push his attacker. But Marat just grabbed his neck and the kiss had only gotten deeper.

‘What does he think he’s doing? And, what is that poking me in the…’

After a terrible realization, Juan Carlos tried his best to get up but the human didn’t even move an inch. Maybe he really was a tennis player after all. So he pulled out his wand again and tried to think of the most malicious thing he could do without being too obvious. Witches weren’t supposed to play tricks on humans and he had already done that once tonight but this was a matter of safety.

Bang.

A horrible noise stopped the kiss and Juan Carlos jumped up on his feet.

“Friendly events with humans, my ass!”

He put his wand back in his robe and picked up his witch hat, quickly dusting it off.

“Live happily ever after with your peanut-sized penis! What’s wrong with the world today?”

He had already picked up his broom and got on it when Marat let out the most outrageous noise possible.

“You fix me right now! You stupid witch!!”

“Well, you shouldn’t have jumped a witch in the first place.”

“It was just a kiss and you know you liked it, god damn it! Fix me right now or I swear I’ll hunt you down!”

“Good luck with that when you can’t even fly.”

Juan Carlos didn’t bother listening to all sorts of threats and flew up to the sky. He was desperate to go to bed.

The next morning, Juan Carlos had totally forgotten about the impudent human until he picked up the morning papers.

“Oh, my darkest Gods! Who took these?”

There he was, waving his magic wand in front of a human, in the front page of Daily Wicked. The headline read Member of Congress, J.C. Ferrero plays FRIENDLY tricks on a human.

“Oh, I’m so dead! Even less witches will care about my proposition now!”

Halloween was only a week away. He couldn’t afford such an unfriendly image.

‘What should I do? Blackmail whoever wrote that article and force him to write a new one? Or should I just write a new one myself and force him to publish it?’

Juan Carlos pondered for a while and shook his head.

‘No, Halloween only comes once a year. For the sake of the holy witchcraft, I should deal with this in a more peaceful manner.’

So he typed in the name Marat Safin on the Internet to see if he could find out where he was staying at.

‘Oh, he must be quite famous.’

Millions of half-naked pictures caught his eyes and soon, the witch was automatically downloading them on his computer.

After quite some time had passed, Juan Carlos finally managed to get out of the pool full of tanned skin and got the address of the hotel that he was looking for.

‘Ok. Now I should sweet-talk to one of the receptionists and everything will be fine.’

He finished his breakfast in a hurry and put on some decent human clothes before calling a cab.

Knock-knock.

“Who is it?” A very hopeless voice answered the door.

Juan Carlos smoothed his hair and put on his best smile. “Hi, Marat.”

Marat wanted to strangle the witch but he figured that it wouldn’t be the best thing to do when he still had a peanut in his shorts.

“What do you want?” He asked coldly.

“I want to make a deal.”

“You’re the witch with all the powers and I’m just a not-famous human with a racquet. What do you want?”

Juan Carlos forced his way inside the room and closed the door behind him. “Every evening you go on a date with me, I’ll make your organ grow a little.”

The Russian now wanted to chop the witch into pieces. “Get out now or you never will.”

“I’m serious. In case you think I’m messing with you, I’m not.” Juan Carlos made a straight face and added, “I’d love to get you out of that little trouble of yours right away, but the fact is that I need your help.”

Then, the Spaniard explained the whole story in one breath and Marat was having a headache.

“I didn’t get half of what you said, so just tell me what I should do to get my penis back.”

“Starting today, could you go out with me for four nights?”

“Why four?”

“Because that’s the lucky number in our world.”

Marat couldn’t believe that he was listening to all this crap but he didn’t think that he had a choice.

“Okay, fine. Just keep your promise.”

“I will.” Juan Carlos smiled a guilty smile. The angry Russian was quite scary. “Oh, before we leave, can you please sign this for me?”

The tennis player’s jaw dropped at the shameless gesture but he couldn’t say no to a fan of his. He grabbed the crooked bird-leg pen that Juan Carlos had handed him and signed on a picture from one of his many shirtless practice sessions.

“Can I also ask about this particular practice? Who did you play with? Was it hot that day?” The new tennis fan had so many questions and to his surprise, Marat was feeling a little bit proud of himself.

“Please?”

The nervous bite of the lips melted the human’s heart and soon, Marat found himself walking out of the hotel, telling some old tennis stories to his fan.

The four nights had been pleasant, much to both of their surprises. They had walked hand in hand on the streets so that witch photographers could catch them get friendly and they had dinner and went to the movies just like other couples did. Juan Carlos was glad to see some other aspects of the Russian while Marat found the witch’s personality highly intriguing.

On the last night of their arrangement, Marat became aware that his vital organ had grown back to its previous size.

“I’m sorry about that.” He really sounded sorry.

“Try not to do that to another human being. You might get killed.”

Juan Carlos nodded, looking down at the ground. He was standing in the terrace of Marat’s hotel room and it was time to say goodbye.

“I wish you well.” He hoped his voice didn’t tremble.

“You too.”

Marat turned around and the witch saw his back get smaller and smaller as he went inside the room.

‘Goodbye, Marat.’

He bit his lips in pain and flew off on his broom. He shouldn’t have played any tricks on a human being. It was all his fault. Now he understood why there were such rules.

Three days later, Marat found himself waking up from the couch with a bottle of vodka in his hand. For the past three days, he couldn’t stop thinking of a certain face.

‘Damn, this is unacceptable. Marat Safin doesn’t miss someone else.’

But deep down, he knew that it was useless to deny it. No matter what he told himself, he was missing the witch to bits and pieces.

‘We didn’t even do anything special. No drinking, no fucking. And I shouldn’t forget that he dare messed with my penis!! So why would I still miss him?’

Frustrated with himself, Marat got up, stretched his long body and went out to the terrace for some fresh air. He smelt like the smelliest animal on the planet and it wasn’t pleasant at all.

‘What’s this?’

He noticed a small box and a carefully folded note near his feet. Curious of the content, he picked them up and started reading the note.

If you still want to see me after all that drama, meet me at midnight where we first met.

P.S. No vodka bottle, please.

Even though there was no signature, he already knew who had sent it.

‘No vodka? Ah, too bad. Maybe he prefers other types of alcohol.’

Marat thought hard for a moment. ‘How am I supposed to know what witches drink? Ah, I’ll go meet him with some rum. Yes, rum is always a safe choice.’

Utterly pleased with his decision, he opened the small box.

‘What is this? A wristwatch?’

Marat tried the black leather watch on and let out a proud laugh.

‘Ahahaha, it looks awesome on me.’

Then, he realized why the witch had given him such a present.

‘Ah, he must’ve known that I don’t really pay attention to the time. It’s a miracle that I was never late for a match.’

Impressed by the impeccable choice of gift, Marat figured that he should return the favor.

‘Okay, I’ll pack my special whisky-scented lube and eat dinner well so I’ll have enough strength for him. Not that I ever had any problem but maybe witches are more demanding. Hmm, yeah, I have a feeling that he’s going to be very bossy in bed.’

Marat chuckled and walked back in the room when he saw small letters on the other side of the note.

P.P.S. Bring two candy apples, nothing more.

‘What? We’re not five years old! Who eats those these days?’

But the Russian was scared that his body might not be whole again so he had to give up on his rum.

‘Ah, too bad.’ He shook his head over and over again.

Juan Carlos was already flying over the park when it was only 11:40 p.m.

‘I did not fall for him. I don’t even like him. He’s just a selfish, drinking ass.’

He mumbled it repeatedly, eyes glued to his wristwatch. He had no idea why he couldn’t just land already, sit down on a bench, and wait patiently for the Russian to arrive.

‘If I fly this fast, I’m soon going to have broomsickness.’

So the witch slowed down and held the broom with one hand. The breeze was a little chilly but the new Prada autumn robe was enough to keep him warm.

‘I just hope he got my message all right.’

While he was wondering if his method had been too subtle for a big, drunk Russian, a hand came out from his wristwatch and smoothed his hair for him.

‘Oh, it must be 11:50. Thank you.’

Juan Carlos smiled to the helping hand and the hand pumped its fist and waved good luck before going back into the watch.

Meanwhile, Marat had fallen asleep on his hotel room after a huge meal. He was drooling all over his pillow, dreaming about all the things that he could do with a witch in bed. At the moment, Juan Carlos was showing off some humanly impossible twist movements while he was straddling him. The Russian was just about to release himself in the most pleasurable moment that he had ever had, when something slapped him on the face.

“Gurgh!!”

He woke up angrily, looking around to find out who dare woke him up at such an important moment. It seemed that he was still alone in his hotel room and he couldn’t figure out who could have slapped him.

‘Does that mean I slapped myself?’

Marat looked around once more, confused of what was happening. But a minute later, it became all very clear when he almost got another slap on his cheek. Luckily, Marat was an athlete and this time, he managed to grab the violent hand.

“Jesus fucking Christ!!”

The hand had certainly come out of the wristwatch. It looked exactly like a human hand and Marat could swear on his personal God of Sex that he hadn’t drunk that much at supper.

“Argh!! What is this thing?”

He quickly bit the hand before letting go of it and saw it go back inside the watch with his teeth mark on it. Eyes almost about to pop out from his skull, Marat threw the witchwatch on the wall and realized why the hand had grabbed him.

“Ah, it’s ten minutes to midnight! That must’ve been the alarm!”

Not so angry at the hand anymore, he picked up his jacket and stormed out of the room.

After quite some exhausting flying, Juan Carlos finally spotted the Russian who was running towards him.

“You’re late!! I gave you that watch so I wouldn’t have to wait so much!” He yelled, landing on the ground.

“Oh, please. It’s only ten minutes.” Marat snorted.

“Well, since it’s Halloween today, I suppose I should forgive you.” Happy that Marat actually came out to meet him, Juan Carlos asked the million dollar question.

“Trick or treat?” The witch’s eyes glittered with delight and his magic wand was ready to fire.

Already gone through the hard way to learn that the witch didn’t like to mess with things, Marat decided to behave.

“Treat.”

The human held out his hand that he had been hiding behind his back. He had two shiny candy apples in his hand.

“No poison or pins?”

“What?” Marat couldn’t understand what the witch wanted to ask.

“You know, there have been various reports on how Halloween food had been contaminated intentionally by…”

“Oh, shut up, you pretty witch and come here.”

The witch chuckled while he took one of the candy apples and Marat couldn’t stand it anymore. He pulled the front of the robe and pressed his lips against the smiling ones.

‘Turn me into a frog or whatever. I don’t really care.’

The human deepened the kiss and waited for the magic wand to strike again.

‘Go ahead. I’ll jump into your robe if I become a frog.’

But even after a whole minute, nothing seemed to happen. Then, soon after, something else happened. The witch had wrapped his arms around his neck and was leaning towards him.

‘Now this was unexpected. But who am I to say no?’

So Marat let go of the robe and took the delicious creature in his arms.

‘Ah, I wish I had vodka and mix it with him. Too bad that I only have candy apples.’

But then he realized that he didn’t even have that candy apple anymore. His hands were busy caressing the witch’s back, which had to mean that he had dropped his apple.

‘Damn it! Those were expensive! Those apples were organic or something!’

His disgruntlement must have been detected through the kiss since Juan Carlos pulled away.

“What’s wrong?”

Marat was about to pout about his organic candy apple when he saw something over the Spaniard’s shoulders. Two candy apples were floating in the air.

“Guh!!”

Still not used to seeing magic in front of his eyes, Marat took a step back and pointed at the apples.

“Oh, that? Yeah, I know. I shouldn’t be using magic in front of humans, especially after getting fined.”

“So I… didn’t waste my apple.” Marat stuttered.

“No, they’re fine. Maybe we should eat them.”

Juan Carlos turned around and handed one to the Russian.

“Have you ever got a chance to ride on a broom?”

By the human’s dumb expression, he could tell the answer.

“Okay, then. Get on board. I’ll give you a heck of a ride.” He smiled and got up on his broom, waiting for Marat to join him.

“What are you waiting for? Don’t tell me that you’re afraid of height.”

“No! It’s not that.” Marat frowned.

“Then what is it? Afraid that you might fall?”

“No! It’s just that… I often get…” Marat couldn’t say the word.

“It’s sacred Halloween today, Marat. Let’s not waste our time here.” Juan Carlos was losing his patience.

“I get airsick!” The human grunted, eating a piece of his apple.

“First of all, it’s called broomsick. And, second of all, I’m one of the greatest broom drivers you would ever meet.” That wasn’t totally the truth but he didn’t want the Russian to panic.

“You’re sure?”

Marat didn’t sound convinced so Juan Carlos changed his tactics.

“You know, you can grope my waist if you jump on.”

Even before the last word was spoken, Marat was already on the broom, holding the witch’s waist.

“Okay. Off we go!” Juan Carlos flew up as gently as possible and Marat took a deep breath.

The waist was good, the apple was good and the flight was good. Marat was less grumpy now.

‘God bless that vodka bottle! May vodka rule the world!’

The moon shone upon the two creatures and Juan Carlos hummed in a low voice, hoping that it would help the human relax.

Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars
Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars
In other words, hold my hand
In other words, darling, kiss me

Fill my heart with song and let me sing forever more
You are all I long for, all I worship and adore
In other words, please be true
In other words, I love you