The world's oldest hobby
Title: The world’s oldest hobby
Pairing: Novak Djokovic/Rafael Nadal
Other character: Andy Roddick
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1,904
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and this is a fiction.
Summary: Rafael gets to read what Novak said about sex in an interview.
Author’s note: Thanks to agua21 who gave me the source of Novak's interview which can be found here.
“Nothing, nothing, nothing is better than sex, it is what God created us to do.”
Rafael grinned as he bookmarked the address of the article. He was flattered to read his boyfriend’s interview. Carlos had kindly texted him about a highly interesting read - Rafael thought that he spent way too much time online even if he was recovering from his injury- and he had wasted no time turning on his laptop.
‘I’m that good?’
He left the couch with a smug look on his face which not many people got to see.
‘Do I agree with him?’
He walked over to the door of the hotel room where he had left his tennis kit as he thought about the next few lines of the article.
But what if he were to win Wimbledon? “Ask me the question again on that day,” he said.
‘Hmm… I’ve won Wimbledon last year and I’ll have to say that… lifting the Wimbledon trophy feels better, obviously. I dreamt year after year when I was a kid of holding that cup but not that many years of having sex, no?’
But then, memories of passionate days and nights rushed out from the back of his mind. He remembered how special it had felt to have Novak’s warm skin pressed against his own in the shower during their first encounter, how thrilling it had been to brush their legs against each other in the Jacuzzi, in Monte Carlo, which they had had to share with four other people.
‘Ah, Nole…’
Rafael leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. The two of them had taken advantage of the empty locker rooms at the latest stage of tournaments and had enjoyed rain delays in the best possible way. They had always asked for sound-proof hotel rooms which were far from other players’ rooms and hadn’t missed the opportunity to say goodbye in spacious airport restrooms. All because the sex together was so good.
‘Eeh…’
Rafael found himself drooling. Quickly wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, he pulled his cell phone out of his tennis bag. It was only polite to say a few words in return for such kindness.
God bless your many different voices and flexibility. It’s great, all thanks to you, no? - Rafa
Rafael felt that he was being a gentleman, giving all the credit to his lover. His mother should be proud of him.
Meanwhile, Novak was about to resume practice when he heard his phone ring.
“Hang on, Andy. I got a text to check.”
Andy nodded and took a few more sips from his sports drink as he saw his practice partner stare at his phone, looking puzzled.
“What’s wrong?”
“Eh, Rafa sent me a weird message.”
“Perhaps he had too much Nutella this morning?” Andy suggested.
From what he had heard from his colleagues, if the Spaniard acted strangely, in nine out of ten cases, it was Nutella that had to be blamed.
“But we ran out of Nutella this morning. He only had half his bread nutellaed. He was cranky so I had to… well, do stuff to make him feel better.”
“Blush and I’m out of here.” Andy warned and Novak chuckled.
“You need to get laid. Which shouldn’t be a problem for you.”
“And which is none of your business.” The American hissed.
“Oh, so Richie still won’t sleep with you unless he gets to top?”
Andy’s eyes grew wide. “He told you that?”
“Hey, we’re still great friends. And I can assure you from firsthand experience that he’s pretty good when he…”
“Stop right there! I don’t need to be reminded that you two were together.”
Andy gritted his teeth and Novak looked at him with sympathy.
“Who would’ve imagined that you’d get to try celibacy one day? Very impressive, Andy. I’ll make sure Rafa admires that side of yours too.”
Andy took off his cap and toweled his hair in an annoyed manner. He missed his cute, little Frenchie.
“I just don’t get it, you know. I thought he was happy bottoming for me.”
“I imagine he is. But perhaps he wants something different from you. Why can’t you just do what he wants? I thought you were in love with him.”
“I am in love with him.”
Andy didn’t feel like confessing that he had a stupid theory of saving his last resort in case Richard found him old and boring one day.
“Well, if you ever need some kind of demonstration, Rafa and I will be happy to help you out!”
Novak jumped out of the frustrated tennis player’s reach and answered his boyfriend’s message.
What do you mean, Rafa? I don’t get what you just sent me. - Nole
Much to his surprise, he got an answer right away.
Come to my room after practice. I’ll show you what I mean. - Kind Rafa
‘Wow, he’s really kind today. I wonder why…’
Knock-knock.
Novak had cut his practice short - Andy couldn’t have been happier to get off court and look for Richard - and had showered as fast as he could. He was intrigued by what Kind Rafa had said.
“Hola, baby.” Rafael opened the door, smiling as if he had seen a fresh jar of Nutella.
“Ahaha, I told you that those two words don’t go well with each other.”
Novak planted a kiss on his boyfriend’s mouth and shut the door.
“Whatever you say. Tonight is your night.”
Rafael pulled the younger player into his arms and gave him a long, toe-curling kiss.
“Whoa. What did I do? Don’t forget to tell me to do it twice a day.”
“Haha, I read the article, Nole.” Rafael offered a seat and Novak sat down on the couch.
“Which article?”
The Serb could picture the Spaniard reading online about some sort of discount on the third Nutella jar.
“The one where you said sex was better than winning a slam. I’m very happy and proud, no?”
Rafael buried his head in the curve of Novak’s neck. His boyfriend deserved many, many kisses.
“Oh, that article. I was talking about sex in general.”
Rafael’s head snapped up, shocked at the words and the tone of the voice.
“Ahaha, I’m joking! Of course we have the best sex anyone can possibly imagine. I have friends and other players asking me what it’s like to sleep with you.”
“Bah, I get the same questions too. I just glare at them or if I’m in a good mood, I tell them it’s a huge secret. They can see you in their dreams.”
Novak loved it when Rafael got jealous. He didn’t show it as often as he wanted to see but today, the Spaniard was wearing his emotions on his sleeves.
“Well, I answer them nicely. I’m even kinder than Kind Rafa.”
The Serb climbed on the world number two’s lap and leaned forward.
“I tell them how amazing your hands are and how your famous ass won’t fit in compression shorts.” He whispered in a low voice, making Rafael’s muscles tremble.
They both remembered the day when Rafael had “borrowed” Novak’s lucky compression shorts and had torn them.
“I thought it would be good to try them before I buy them, no? I needed something for good luck too.”
The next day, Rafael had bought the number three player in the world five new compression shorts as a sign of apology, but Novak had used four of them to enjoy watching his boyfriend tear them in such a sexy way.
“I never knew you were into kink.” Rafael had been reminiscing about the same incident.
“When it’s with you, I think I’m into almost anything.” Novak lifted his arms in the air to help Rafael take off his T-shirt.
“Which proves that we’re great in this area…”
Rafael thought about signing up for the Guinness World Record as he quickly got rid of two shirts.
“Exactly, my love.”
Novak couldn’t afford smiling any more. His whole attention was focused on what he probably did best; exploring new pleasures with Rafael Nadal.
After an intensive two rounds of what God had created them to do, the two players were taking deep breaths on their well-used bed, hoping that their lungs would cooperate with their brains.
Bleep.
Novak rolled over to the bedside and picked up his cell phone. He had received a new message.
Yay! Finally! I’m on top of the world! =D - Strong Richie
“Ahaha…”
“What’s so funny?” Rafael asked, a little irritated at his boyfriend’s laughter. Nobody should dare interrupt their sacred post-coital moment.
“Unfortunately, it seems like sex doesn’t come this naturally to every couple.”
Novak chuckled again before he turned around to face his sweet companion.
“Too bad for them. Not everybody gets to enjoy what we have, no? I read the comments under the article and many people didn’t agree with you. That’s because they never had such great sex, no?”
Rafael made his point by leaving another kiss mark on the area where Novak’s neck ended and his chest started; the taste and the smell were both intoxicating.
“What about you? You agree with me or you’ll pick Wimbly over me?” The Serb looked up with curious eyes.
“Eh, trophy is just a trophy and you are just you.” Rafael answered, pretending to be disinterested.
“What? What’s that supposed to mean? I’m just me? Is that a good thing?”
Rafael bit back a mouthful of laughter and decided to enjoy the pouty show. For some twisted reason, he found it pleasurable to watch his usually cheerful boyfriend act all sulky.
“Don’t put on that game face, Rafa! Tell me. Do you agree with me or not?”
Novak was now on top of the Spaniard, his eyes peering sharply into Rafael’s as if it helped him read his thoughts.
“Hmm… let me think.”
Rafael took his sweet time to move his eyebrows in various directions and rub his chin. He could see Novak getting impatient, moving up and down his body, probably not even realizing that he was doing such a thing.
“Ah, it’s hard to answer. Both of you are very lovely, no?”
Novak couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to have a Wimbledon trophy in his arms but it stung to see Rafael put him and the trophy on the scales and realize that the trophy was heavier.
“I’ll let you know the answer in the shower.” The Spaniard answered swiftly before Novak would get really hurt.
“What? Why? I want to hear it now!”
“But I can think more clearly under water. I thought you knew that.” Rafael cooked up a lie but poor Novak fell for it.
“Of… of course I knew that! I’m your boyfriend.” Looking guilty, the Serb got up from the glistening body to turn on the shower.
‘Ahaha, what a sweet boy.’
Rafael left the bedroom and headed towards the adjoining bathroom. He was going to let Novak know his answer clear enough that even the trophy would understand.