tennis slash - How To Be English

Jul 14, 2009 12:33


sorry, nothing new yet.  posting for completeness.

Title: How To Be English
Author: Kris S.
Fandom: Tennis RPS
Pairing: Novak Djokovic/Andy Murray
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This never happened.
Summary: Novak may have ended up playing for Great Britain. Andy decides to help him fit in.   Takes place up to the beginning of 2005 Wimbledon.
Author's Note: For BPC v2.2 Challenge: written for 
jeka_ooie  prompt: First Experience

Novak had been hearing his mother discuss getting a second citizenship throughout his teenage years. Fed up with the lack of interest in the sport in their country, she had been doing research on the subject around the time of Novak's stay in Germany.

His young mind didn't understand the point of this. Sure, there were problems back home but he was still proud to be a Serbian. To play for another nation just made no sense.

The one that seemed to really excite Mom was Great Britain. They were looking for the Next Big Thing since Tim Henman was in the later years of his career.

She would say, "There are these two boys they're banking on but, just in case... They want a champion and they know you can become one." He ignored most of the details.

That led to a family trip to England when Novak was fifteen. Even though it was mentioned as a vacation, of course Mom suggested swinging by the tennis courts; she was plotting and he was old enough to realize that.

Novak had to admit he was curious as to find out about their best. He managed to get away from his dad and brothers, helped by a fight he may have instigated to show off he’s the older brother.

He wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for. Sure, there were young British tennis players but nothing that was on the level of what Mom had spoken about. He also figured she would be in the vicinity if it really was one of the right players.

Novak had just approached the last court in the group when someone yelled, “What are you doing?” He spun around, finding a tall, skinny boy his age storming toward the court. The boy wasn't even looking his way as he continued, “Don’t even bother getting on the court if you’re going to keep missing the forehand like that!”

The person on the court, slightly older and similar physical appearance, rolled his eyes while bouncing the ball on his racket, making a show of ignoring that voice as the coach gave tips.

The boy outside the court laced his fingers through the chain-link fence. “Stop wasting everyone’s time. Your common sense is out the window. I should ‘accidentally’ clock you with my serve the next time we play doubles. Maybe that will wake something up.”

Novak chuckled under his breath. He figured they must be brothers and both into tennis, just like his family.

The coach snapped, “Andy, I told you to find someone else to bug right now."

The boy he now knew as Andy let out a loud sigh. “It wasn’t my idea to come here… he’s the one who’s been messing up his forehand.” Andy was about to walk away when he finally saw Novak standing there. “Learning anything?”

Andy may have appeared slight but his stare was intense. Something about it got to Novak in a way he’d never felt before. “Something like that.”

“You into tennis?”

“Yeah. My family is visiting this country to see what English tennis is all about. Maybe even move here.”

Andy tilted his head. “That sounds serious. You any good?” Before Novak had a chance to answer, Andy blurted out, “Wait, the accent. I know! You’re the Eastern European kid the LTA wants to make a British citizen. Am I right?”

“How do you know that?”

“They’re trying to keep us from training in Spain.” Andy spotted a court that just emptied and nobody was waiting. “Do you want to see if it’s worth the trouble?”

“Let me just get my gear.” Novak thought he’d be walking alone back to his family but Andy followed him instead, preferring to keep talking. “It’s actually hilarious that they desperately want you. Their problem is that we’re not English, we’re Scottish, yet they have no problem with recruiting from the other end of the continent. Typical.”

“When you say ‘we’, you mean the guy you were heckling?”

Andy grinned. “Yeah. My brother. He wanted to be a big shot in trying to impress a girl yesterday so I get to mock him today. Fair trade, I’d say.”

Novak laughed at how proud Andy was of this plan. “I am so glad neither of my brothers are like you.”

“They play?”

“Yeah but they’re both a bit younger than me. No real rivalry.”

Andy nodded. “So you want to become a Brit?”

“Actually, it’s my mom’s idea. I mean, nothing against England but it doesn’t mean anything to me. National pride, you know?”

“Understood. Believe me, I can irritate anyone around here come football season.” He smirked, really enjoying the idea. “I can offer tips so that maybe you’ll fit in. Or at least as well as I do.”

“Such as?”

“Be as pessimistic as possible. The best way to accomplish that is by first getting your hopes ridiculously high so that it’s inevitable that you’ll be let down.”

Novak laughed. “That does sound a bit stereotypical.”

“Look at a tabloid around here come Wimbledon time. I dare you. Insufferable.”

* * * * *

For the rest of their stay in England, the family hung around the courts. Novak looked for opportunities to escape to play tennis with Andy.

The thing was, the longer he played with Andy, the worse Novak’s game appeared so it was actually more like punishment. Mom would swing by the court, watching, and it made her oddly excited. She’d say, “It’s not that I wish you to look bad. Just that you need to be pushed to improve and this boy is accomplishing that.”

It went beyond that. When they took a break, Andy continued with the advice, mostly caustic possibly rude, but he kept going because it made Novak laugh.

Mostly it was Andy doing the talking, which would throw off anybody who knew Novak. Usually he was the life of the party but Novak stayed back as he soaked in the experience of England.

The thing was, even though Novak was enjoying the trip for reasons he could have never imagined a week ago, he couldn’t imagine staying either. It was frustrating to see how far away his game was and, frankly, it was driving him crazy.

He had no idea what to make of the fact that returning home made him miss the Scot who drove him crazy as well.

* * * * *

As Novak entered more junior tournaments, he discovered that he wasn’t the only one to find Andy exhausting. Their paths didn’t cross too often but he heard the words. Andy made the opposition look bad, nobody able to get their game going against the tall but scrawny player.

When they would get together, the excitement never went away. Whether it was about sports, movies or some new video game, the discussion was never boring. Both of them were outsiders, even more so now that Andy was in Spain and his brother opted to return to the UK.

Though he never heard Andy complain about the distance. He just generally preferred complaining about the Brits in general, his current form, or how bad his favorite team was doing.

While Mom had tempered the talk about British citizenship for awhile, she did like the bond that was forming between the guys. She’d invite Andy to their family dinners

The more that she tried to bring Andy into their family, the stranger their dynamic became. Andy watched as the brothers egged Novak on to do impersonations and appeared wistful but not saying anything specific.

While they treated him as a member of the family, Novak would prefer anything but. Although he couldn’t quite describe in detail, the truth was that he hated when Andy talked about the girl from Valencia he was unsuccessfully trying to impress.

* * * * *

Even though Novak qualified for the previous two majors that year, his first chance at trying to get into Wimbledon was the one he couldn't stop thinking about. Andy had gotten a wild card so it made him even more motivated to accomplish this feat.

Once he made it in, the talk had resumed regarding that damn British citizenship. Andy said upon finding out, "I guess we're resuming the lessons."

"Come on. It's not as bad as you make it sound."

Novak didn't mean that as a challenge but the day before the tournament, Andy arrived at his hotel room with a stack of newspapers. "Not so bad? You cannot find a paper that doesn't have some outrageous headline about Henman." He walked past Novak and dropped them on the table near the bed. Picking one specific paper out of the stack, he continued, "Are you sure you want to be the one who has a red X over his face when you lose first round?"

This paper was one that Novak inspected carefully. Sure enough... "Was this your way of saying that you made the front page of a newspaper?"

Andy didn't answer immediately. "Well, no. I was trying to scare you, actually."

"It's a lot of pressure," Novak said, more to gauge Andy's reaction.

"It would be nice to be there for a better reason. Win a match or two, challenge a seed."

"Sit down," pointing to the bed he was standing near. Andy did so, Novak soon joining him. "These people drive you to do well. Whether it's because you're not English, that you were in Spain and away from them, or just a general 'you're more driven than most', it has helped you get to this point."

"Is that why you don't want to be British?"

"It may have made my life easier growing up but easy doesn't motivate. Of course it would be nice to be a Grand Slam champion. To be the favorite to get there. Or even to be the guy that gives these tennis-loving people hope year after year."

"Do you really think I'll get to that point?"

"I think we will get to that point. I will watch as you bask in these stupid newspapers while I charm the hell out of them with my sense of humor."

This made Andy laugh so hard he laid back on the bed. "Thank you, Novak, for that. I admit I was stressed a bit but, you? Entertaining the crowds? Good one."

"Hey! I could do it." Novak shot up from sitting position and looked around for a racket. He then rolled the sleeves of his t-shirt as high as possible and bounced back and forth like a boxer in the ring. "Let's see. Rafael Nadal is now a champion. He's only a year older than us. I could be that guy."

When Andy was able to stop laughing, he replied dryly, "You're such a charmer. All of the Spaniards would love you so much for that."

"Oh shut up. I only have eyes for your girl from Valencia."

"Huh? Oh yeah, of course." Andy gave Novak a sidewards glance. "You probably would impress her. How do you not have a girlfriend?"

"Is there really time?"

Andy shrugged. "Suppose not. I just thought there was another reason."

"You mean something like I can't stop thinking about someone I met on vacation three years ago?"

"So there is a lucky... wait." Novak chuckled as Andy sat straight up, realizing what he meant. His eyes were wide and he sounded so childlike when he eked out, "Seriously?"

Novak sat on the floor at Andy's feet, holding up one of the newspapers. "Someday you will be the guy with all the outrageous headlines. Right now," Novak ripped the paper and tossed it behind him, "I don't want to deal with being British. I just want you," then pulled Andy down to kiss him.

tennisfic, serbs, brits

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