tennis slash - Needling
Title: Needling
Author: Kris S.
Fandom: Tennis RPS
Players: Andy Roddick, Gilles Simon, Gael Monfils, Jo-Wilfried Tsonga
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This did not happen.
Summary: Neither Andy nor Gilles have had much success at the French Open; Andy uses that to his advantage.
Author’s Notes: Takes place after Gilles’ first round match. I apologize for the harsh words but that's what this plot bunny had in mind.
“You look so thrilled to be here.”
Gilles hears the words directed his way but is surprised that it’s Andy Roddick speaking to him. “Pardon?”
Andy circles around the gear on the floor, inspecting the damage. “Such a mess.”
“I just played five sets. So, I’m just glad I survived. Why are you here?”
“Left something in the locker room.” Andy leans against the locker, no interest whatsoever in leaving the matter alone. Gilles continues packing his belongings. “Am I correct to assume that you do not like the French Open?”
“You must be kidding.” But Gilles knows that Andy will not shut up until he finishes this train of thought. He’s just not accustomed to having it directed his way. He was perfectly happy being ignored by the American.
“You’re not a clay courter but this is your home slam. Automatic aggravation plus questions about if you’re worthy of your ranking. Generally, you’re lousy when playing for your country anyway. Need I remind you about Davis Cup?”
Gilles thinks Gael and Jo used their influence to make this forbidden conversation since no player has ever commented directly to him about that horrible weekend. He says through gritted teeth, “Get whatever you need and leave me alone.”
“I mean, hyperventilating? Wow, that was a new level of fucking up. Believe me, I know enough about that subject. Ahead two sets and serving for the match, then choking it away? Check, your compatriot helped with that one. Letting a player get in your head and ruin your game for years? Thank you for that one, Roger. The entire country bemoaning the state of tennis because you lead the brigade that gets its ass kicked at this tournament every year? Check.”
“What are you trying to accomplish?”
Andy gives a cocky grin. “Absolutely nothing, Pous-sin,” deliberately mangling the word. “I just don’t know if anyone takes you seriously as a tennis player. I mean, the things that Novak and Murray say about you. That you’re a pretender who is riding on your friendship with Jo and Gael so people think you’re worthy.”
"They did not say that."
"I mean, Gael on a gimpy knee has a better chance than you do here. But that's okay, something's gotta give since you're facing another American in the next round. Gael can comfort you when you suffer that humiliating loss. He'll need to since France will know there's something wrong with you..."
"Shut up about my country." Gilles can feel his face turning red and he's trying not to inflict damage.
"Or what?" Andy makes sure to hold his ground when Gilles tries to stare him down.
"Are you seriously wanting to know?"
"I'd like to see you try. What can you do? Cut me off at the knees?"
"Roddick, what is wrong with you?" Gael barks out, appearing to have just survived a practice session of his own. "You want to make sure to leave your mark on Roland Garros since your game clearly doesn't?"
Gilles mutters, "I don't need saving."
"No, you don't. But we have a fun night planned and he's ruining it. Jo's waiting impatiently outside." Gael can tell Gilles is still seething so he grabs the bag and yanks the other player toward the exit.
Andy calls out, "Yeah, have your big strong man protecting you."
Gilles yells back, "You haven't gotten the last word on this subject. I could mention..."
Gael covers his hand over Gilles' mouth. "You could zip it since I am sure you instigated it. Can't keep your mouth shut for anything."
Gilles worms away from Gael's hand just enough to say, "No, for once, I didn't. I swear!"
The protests are ignored as Gael drags Gilles to the car where Jo is waiting. Gael opens the door and shoves the still-complaining player inside. He's about to enter himself when he says, "I forgot something. Be right back," slamming the door before Gilles can react.
Gael strides back into the locker room and greets Andy with a smile as he hands over the money.
Andy counts it up, then chuckles as he replies, "I can't believe you really wanted me to do that."
"It was harsh but needed. Plus, it will make the night a lot more fun. Thank you." As Gael walks away, he adds, "If you ever mention the Davis Cup thing again, you'll be buried in the clay."
Author: Kris S.
Fandom: Tennis RPS
Players: Andy Roddick, Gilles Simon, Gael Monfils, Jo-Wilfried Tsonga
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This did not happen.
Summary: Neither Andy nor Gilles have had much success at the French Open; Andy uses that to his advantage.
Author’s Notes: Takes place after Gilles’ first round match. I apologize for the harsh words but that's what this plot bunny had in mind.
“You look so thrilled to be here.”
Gilles hears the words directed his way but is surprised that it’s Andy Roddick speaking to him. “Pardon?”
Andy circles around the gear on the floor, inspecting the damage. “Such a mess.”
“I just played five sets. So, I’m just glad I survived. Why are you here?”
“Left something in the locker room.” Andy leans against the locker, no interest whatsoever in leaving the matter alone. Gilles continues packing his belongings. “Am I correct to assume that you do not like the French Open?”
“You must be kidding.” But Gilles knows that Andy will not shut up until he finishes this train of thought. He’s just not accustomed to having it directed his way. He was perfectly happy being ignored by the American.
“You’re not a clay courter but this is your home slam. Automatic aggravation plus questions about if you’re worthy of your ranking. Generally, you’re lousy when playing for your country anyway. Need I remind you about Davis Cup?”
Gilles thinks Gael and Jo used their influence to make this forbidden conversation since no player has ever commented directly to him about that horrible weekend. He says through gritted teeth, “Get whatever you need and leave me alone.”
“I mean, hyperventilating? Wow, that was a new level of fucking up. Believe me, I know enough about that subject. Ahead two sets and serving for the match, then choking it away? Check, your compatriot helped with that one. Letting a player get in your head and ruin your game for years? Thank you for that one, Roger. The entire country bemoaning the state of tennis because you lead the brigade that gets its ass kicked at this tournament every year? Check.”
“What are you trying to accomplish?”
Andy gives a cocky grin. “Absolutely nothing, Pous-sin,” deliberately mangling the word. “I just don’t know if anyone takes you seriously as a tennis player. I mean, the things that Novak and Murray say about you. That you’re a pretender who is riding on your friendship with Jo and Gael so people think you’re worthy.”
"They did not say that."
"I mean, Gael on a gimpy knee has a better chance than you do here. But that's okay, something's gotta give since you're facing another American in the next round. Gael can comfort you when you suffer that humiliating loss. He'll need to since France will know there's something wrong with you..."
"Shut up about my country." Gilles can feel his face turning red and he's trying not to inflict damage.
"Or what?" Andy makes sure to hold his ground when Gilles tries to stare him down.
"Are you seriously wanting to know?"
"I'd like to see you try. What can you do? Cut me off at the knees?"
"Roddick, what is wrong with you?" Gael barks out, appearing to have just survived a practice session of his own. "You want to make sure to leave your mark on Roland Garros since your game clearly doesn't?"
Gilles mutters, "I don't need saving."
"No, you don't. But we have a fun night planned and he's ruining it. Jo's waiting impatiently outside." Gael can tell Gilles is still seething so he grabs the bag and yanks the other player toward the exit.
Andy calls out, "Yeah, have your big strong man protecting you."
Gilles yells back, "You haven't gotten the last word on this subject. I could mention..."
Gael covers his hand over Gilles' mouth. "You could zip it since I am sure you instigated it. Can't keep your mouth shut for anything."
Gilles worms away from Gael's hand just enough to say, "No, for once, I didn't. I swear!"
The protests are ignored as Gael drags Gilles to the car where Jo is waiting. Gael opens the door and shoves the still-complaining player inside. He's about to enter himself when he says, "I forgot something. Be right back," slamming the door before Gilles can react.
Gael strides back into the locker room and greets Andy with a smile as he hands over the money.
Andy counts it up, then chuckles as he replies, "I can't believe you really wanted me to do that."
"It was harsh but needed. Plus, it will make the night a lot more fun. Thank you." As Gael walks away, he adds, "If you ever mention the Davis Cup thing again, you'll be buried in the clay."