Fic: Siempre Una Memoria
Title: Siempre Una Memoria
Pairing: Fernando Verdasco/Feliciano Lopez, Guillermo (OMC)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Fiction
for ancient_arch who requested photos as a prompt with Feli/Nando :)
With a forceful swing, Guillermo slams the hammer into the aged walls. When he had decided to buy this house, he knew it was a fixer-upper, and today is the official start to the renovations. The master bedroom, which is now going to belong to him and his partner Pablo, is the first to be reconstructed. The furthest wall of the walk-in closet had some intriguing but hideous markings on it, so a new one is in order. The plaster begins to give away after a few more swings, flecks of white dust quickly covering Guillermo's worn overalls. When there is a good amount of plaster covering the floor, he puts down the hammer and moves towards the newly created hole, admiring his work when a spine of a book or something of the sort catches his eye.
Guillermo removes the protective glasses and gloves he's wearing and lifts the book into his hands, running his fingers over the leather cover. With a quick flip through, he realizes that it is a photo album. Curiousity gets the better of him. Leaving his work undone for now, he carries the album into the middle of the bare room where he takes a seat on the floor.
He flips the book open to the first page, and for some reason he cannot fully understand, a feeling of some kind of importance washes over him. Along with a photo of two young men, boys really, writing adorns the bottom of the page. The photo was taken at one of those photo booths at the shopping centers. The older one with brown hair as a sly grin on his face whereas the younger darker haired boy is smiling with all his might, like he's never been happier than this in that moment. After a second, Guillermo's eyes wander over to the words.
This is mine and Nando's first photo together. I was about sixteen and he fourteen. I had been living in Madrid for about two years and he was the first real friend I had met there. I'll never forget that day simply because Nando was so excited to be out of his house with someone other than his family members. He made me stop at every shop even though we had no money to buy anything. Somehow he convinced me to get into the photo booth with him and take those silly pictures. The first few were really horrible. This one is the only one I really liked, even though Nando said that he liked all of them.
Guillermo looks at the photo again, wondering if he knows the boys from somewhere. They look highly familiar. His eyes slide over to the left side, to the younger of the two. This must be Nando. His long hair is pulled away from his face, slick and black. He has one of those smiles that shine through his eyes as well. The other boy has long hair too, but not long enough for a ponytail, just curling behind his ears. Guillermo knows he has seen these two before somewhere, maybe even knows them.
He continues to flip though the album, touching the photos and careful words at the bottom of every page. Some of the photographs are just of the two boys, others including many more even family members. A photo of just the two, Nando and the writer, sitting on a bed together, beer bottles in either's hand, wearing drunken smiles stares back at him.
My first apartment. My OWN apartment. Besides being in Barcelona, I couldn't imagine anything better. The party that night was unbelieveable. I don't even remember most of it. Somehow Nando and I convinced his parents to let him stay with me, to help me "unpack". All we did was party though. We drank way too much, probably did somethings we would have liked to remembered. I woke up with phone numbers printed on my arms and chest. And I don't know how it happened, but I woke up next to Nando. Things changed after that and I wouldn't take back that night for anything.
Eyes flicker back and take in the arms thrown over shoulders, bodies pressed close, perhaps closer than necessary. So Nando and his older friend were lovers? Suddenly, Guillermo feels like he's intruding on something that clearly was not meant for his eyes. He take a deep breath and goes to close the photo album but he can't. He just can't do it. Opening his eyes again, a pair of drunken smiles greets him. Guillermo cannot explain it but he feels connected somehow to these two, to 'Nando' and his light haired beauty. With a little bit of regret creeping into his system, Guillermo continues on until the another photo catches his interest.
Miami was Nando's first Master's tournament and he was beyond excited. He was nervous though when he met Carlos for the first time. It was hilarious (and cute) when he started stuttering and blushing when Carlos complemented his game. Afterward, he kept repeating the words, "I can't believe I just met Carlos Moya" over and over again. Ferru and I still tease him about that.
At the mention of Carlos Moya, Guillermo knows exactly who these men are. This particular photo features four men; Carlos Moya, Feliciano Lopez, David Ferrer and Fernando verdasco, Spain's famous tennistas from years ago. Guillermo quickly decides that it must be Feliciano who is the narrator of the album. Feliciano and Fernando...? Guillermo focuses on the figures. Fernando is standing in the middle with Carlos and Feliciano pressed on either side of him; although Feliciano is a lot closer than Carlos.
Guillermo used to follow the sport of tennis much more closely when he was younger but he can't recall any player, male or female, coming out, well no Spanish players anyway. Maybe they were just very good friends, best friends even? A few pages and many photos later, Guillermo discovers the truth.
I've never won a Grand Slam but winning Davis Cup will always be the most memorable for me. Playing doubles with Nando. Winning doubles with Nando. I never forget any of it. Ferru took this photo, that puta. He snuck in the camera when Nando and I weren't paying attention but at least I got to keep the picture. Ferru kept joking about putting a camera into our room that night. He better had not!
Feliciano and Fernando, shirtless from what Guillermo could see, were wrapped in their country's flag together. Their faces show nothing but sheer joy and love. They're facing each other, Fernando's fingers curled around Feliciano's neck, Feliciano's gripping his shoulder. Even if Guillermo had not read that little excerpt, the photo is a clear indication that the two men are more than friends, more than tennis partners. It makes Guillermo smile, the words and the photo, for a reason he cannot fully explain.
There are many many more photos; some of the two playing tennis, some of Feliciano and Fernando with other friends, some of Feliciano's family. At the very end of the album, there is a lone photo. Feliciano has his arms around Fernando who is holding a baby girl who cannot be older than six months at the time. Bright smiles highlight the photo. At the bottom of the page the caption simply reads:
The Lopez-Verdasco Family
A feeling of nostalgia or something of the sort washes over Guillermo as he shuts the photo album. He doesn't know how he's going to do it, but he knows he has to somehow get this treasure of memories back to the rightful owners.
Pairing: Fernando Verdasco/Feliciano Lopez, Guillermo (OMC)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Fiction
for ancient_arch who requested photos as a prompt with Feli/Nando :)
With a forceful swing, Guillermo slams the hammer into the aged walls. When he had decided to buy this house, he knew it was a fixer-upper, and today is the official start to the renovations. The master bedroom, which is now going to belong to him and his partner Pablo, is the first to be reconstructed. The furthest wall of the walk-in closet had some intriguing but hideous markings on it, so a new one is in order. The plaster begins to give away after a few more swings, flecks of white dust quickly covering Guillermo's worn overalls. When there is a good amount of plaster covering the floor, he puts down the hammer and moves towards the newly created hole, admiring his work when a spine of a book or something of the sort catches his eye.
Guillermo removes the protective glasses and gloves he's wearing and lifts the book into his hands, running his fingers over the leather cover. With a quick flip through, he realizes that it is a photo album. Curiousity gets the better of him. Leaving his work undone for now, he carries the album into the middle of the bare room where he takes a seat on the floor.
He flips the book open to the first page, and for some reason he cannot fully understand, a feeling of some kind of importance washes over him. Along with a photo of two young men, boys really, writing adorns the bottom of the page. The photo was taken at one of those photo booths at the shopping centers. The older one with brown hair as a sly grin on his face whereas the younger darker haired boy is smiling with all his might, like he's never been happier than this in that moment. After a second, Guillermo's eyes wander over to the words.
This is mine and Nando's first photo together. I was about sixteen and he fourteen. I had been living in Madrid for about two years and he was the first real friend I had met there. I'll never forget that day simply because Nando was so excited to be out of his house with someone other than his family members. He made me stop at every shop even though we had no money to buy anything. Somehow he convinced me to get into the photo booth with him and take those silly pictures. The first few were really horrible. This one is the only one I really liked, even though Nando said that he liked all of them.
Guillermo looks at the photo again, wondering if he knows the boys from somewhere. They look highly familiar. His eyes slide over to the left side, to the younger of the two. This must be Nando. His long hair is pulled away from his face, slick and black. He has one of those smiles that shine through his eyes as well. The other boy has long hair too, but not long enough for a ponytail, just curling behind his ears. Guillermo knows he has seen these two before somewhere, maybe even knows them.
He continues to flip though the album, touching the photos and careful words at the bottom of every page. Some of the photographs are just of the two boys, others including many more even family members. A photo of just the two, Nando and the writer, sitting on a bed together, beer bottles in either's hand, wearing drunken smiles stares back at him.
My first apartment. My OWN apartment. Besides being in Barcelona, I couldn't imagine anything better. The party that night was unbelieveable. I don't even remember most of it. Somehow Nando and I convinced his parents to let him stay with me, to help me "unpack". All we did was party though. We drank way too much, probably did somethings we would have liked to remembered. I woke up with phone numbers printed on my arms and chest. And I don't know how it happened, but I woke up next to Nando. Things changed after that and I wouldn't take back that night for anything.
Eyes flicker back and take in the arms thrown over shoulders, bodies pressed close, perhaps closer than necessary. So Nando and his older friend were lovers? Suddenly, Guillermo feels like he's intruding on something that clearly was not meant for his eyes. He take a deep breath and goes to close the photo album but he can't. He just can't do it. Opening his eyes again, a pair of drunken smiles greets him. Guillermo cannot explain it but he feels connected somehow to these two, to 'Nando' and his light haired beauty. With a little bit of regret creeping into his system, Guillermo continues on until the another photo catches his interest.
Miami was Nando's first Master's tournament and he was beyond excited. He was nervous though when he met Carlos for the first time. It was hilarious (and cute) when he started stuttering and blushing when Carlos complemented his game. Afterward, he kept repeating the words, "I can't believe I just met Carlos Moya" over and over again. Ferru and I still tease him about that.
At the mention of Carlos Moya, Guillermo knows exactly who these men are. This particular photo features four men; Carlos Moya, Feliciano Lopez, David Ferrer and Fernando verdasco, Spain's famous tennistas from years ago. Guillermo quickly decides that it must be Feliciano who is the narrator of the album. Feliciano and Fernando...? Guillermo focuses on the figures. Fernando is standing in the middle with Carlos and Feliciano pressed on either side of him; although Feliciano is a lot closer than Carlos.
Guillermo used to follow the sport of tennis much more closely when he was younger but he can't recall any player, male or female, coming out, well no Spanish players anyway. Maybe they were just very good friends, best friends even? A few pages and many photos later, Guillermo discovers the truth.
I've never won a Grand Slam but winning Davis Cup will always be the most memorable for me. Playing doubles with Nando. Winning doubles with Nando. I never forget any of it. Ferru took this photo, that puta. He snuck in the camera when Nando and I weren't paying attention but at least I got to keep the picture. Ferru kept joking about putting a camera into our room that night. He better had not!
Feliciano and Fernando, shirtless from what Guillermo could see, were wrapped in their country's flag together. Their faces show nothing but sheer joy and love. They're facing each other, Fernando's fingers curled around Feliciano's neck, Feliciano's gripping his shoulder. Even if Guillermo had not read that little excerpt, the photo is a clear indication that the two men are more than friends, more than tennis partners. It makes Guillermo smile, the words and the photo, for a reason he cannot fully explain.
There are many many more photos; some of the two playing tennis, some of Feliciano and Fernando with other friends, some of Feliciano's family. At the very end of the album, there is a lone photo. Feliciano has his arms around Fernando who is holding a baby girl who cannot be older than six months at the time. Bright smiles highlight the photo. At the bottom of the page the caption simply reads:
The Lopez-Verdasco Family
A feeling of nostalgia or something of the sort washes over Guillermo as he shuts the photo album. He doesn't know how he's going to do it, but he knows he has to somehow get this treasure of memories back to the rightful owners.