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Entry tags:
Tennis rps fic: Ready for a fall, Feli/Rafa, NC 17
Title: Ready for a fall
Characters: Feliciano Lopez/Rafa Nadal (with implied Roger/Rafa too)
Rating: NC 17
Disclaimer: This is all entirely fictional.
Notes: I really wanted to write something about how Rafa might cope with being on tour all the time, and also Feli because Feli is pretty. Couple this with me obsessing over his Roger-love and you have the following story. Probably. Thank you very much to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
emungere and buckle_berry for beta and helpful comments and encouragement. Gratuitous photos: Feli, Feli and Rafa
Summary: Feli has figured something out about Rafa. Rafa and Feli are closer than people think.
That night, the night after Rafa won his quarterfinal match and Feli lost his, they played five straight hours of Tiger Woods PGA Golf Tour.
The people in the next door room banged on the wall to complain about the noise. That was on the last hole, and Rafa was losing hard. Feli was pissing him off, digging his elbow into Rafa's ribs on the last putt. His bare arm was sticking to Rafa's skin.
"You're going to lose."
"Get off," Rafa said. Feli laughed in his face. The bed was squishy and hard to balance on, and they rolled together. Feli's' arm went round his waist. "Get off me, loser Fidgiano."
"I'm not on you," he said, which was just a lie.
Rafa's thumb slipped on the controls. The ball pinged off into the sand. "Argh. No, no."
"Tiger's gonna be upset. You just made him hack sand all over Greg Norman."
"I hate you, uugh. Damn it."
Feli's leg was pressed up hard against his; baggy dark blue shorts with flowers on, bare knees and shins, strong toes digging into Rafa's foot now and then. He'd been aware of it all evening, a bit too aware. Rafa looked down at the controls still in his hands, then dropped it on the floor. Feli took his arm away and rubbed sharply at his face. Neither of them spoke, but Feli was looking at him. His face was still and calm, still retaining a lot of the too-prettiness he'd had a few years ago, even though he was older now.
Rafa noticed these things about men, how good they looked. He thought people might be surprised if they knew that, so he didn't tell them.
"What?" he said.
"Nothing," Feli said, and he pulled himself back on the bed and flopped down. "Hey, maybe we should sleep. It's getting late."
"Yeah, soon." Rafa lay down next to him. The ceiling had small round lights embedded in it. Feli's room was down the hall. He turned his head and watched the rise and fall of Feli's bare chest. His skin was so smooth it looked almost polished. He looked back at the lights and squinted.
"How's Xisca?" Feli said, after a minute or so.
"I dunno. She hasn't been in touch recently."
"Oh, huh?"
"She says she's too busy."
"With college and stuff, yeah?"
"Maybe, I guess. Yeah."
"Major lack of sex."
"Pretty much."
"Same as me, then." Feli rolled onto his side, propped up on an elbow. Half of his face was hidden by hair, but a smile was quirking up one side of his mouth. They both knew where this was heading. "So, you wanna…?"
Rafa's palms prickled with sweat. Like Feli said when they started, it was just a way of releasing tension. Nothing else. It didn't mean anything. It was just guys together, helping each other out.
"Sure."
"Okay," Feli said.
They wriggled further up the bed together, so they faced each other, heads on the pillows, the same position they always did it in. Feli pushed his shorts down and off, and Rafa did the same. They were both getting hard. Rafa felt the pulse of blood and the tightening of his skin in anticipation. His mouth was dry. It'd been a long time since it'd been anything but his own hand. Weeks.
Feli's mouth was looking so pink, full lips a little parted. Rafa stared at them and got harder. Like this, they were careful not to touch too much, which was strange when Rafa thought about how easily they touched all the rest of the time. Rafa laid his hand on Feli's thigh, uncertain.
Feli's breathing was getting heavier and his eyes were glazing. He was looking down at Rafa's hand. "Like last time, do it like that. That was good."
"Okay," Rafa said again. Feli's dick was long and a bit thinner than his own, a creamy colour, flushing to dark pink. His pubes were… really obsessively neat. "What did you do?" Rafa said, looking.
Feli hissed out a little breath. "Just waxing. I don't want a hairy arse, right?"
"I suppose," Rafa said. He'd never really considered such a thing.
"Uhnn. Wait. Get the tissues, I don't want come all over me."
Rafa blushed, hard, and reached an arm behind him to grope for the box, dragging some free. Feli laughed and then bit his lip, rolling closer. His fingers slid around the shaft of Rafa's cock, cool and firm and tight. Rafa groped for him in turn, and heard Feli let out a soft breath. Their faces were so close, like they might kiss. Rafa shut his eyes and concentrated on the warmth and roughness of Feli's palm, and the way he did that thing with his thumb, rubbing along the underside and up over the head, dragging his foreskin up and back down. He was so good at that, knew just how to do it so Rafa liked it.
"Uhh," Rafa breathed, getting into it. He opened his eyes to see Feli watching him.
"Whoa, you're desperate," Feli said, like they were talking about the weather.
"God, ahh. Shut up." If he said that to Xisca, she'd tell probably slap him. Feli just smiled at him, sort of slow and flirty, like he did with girls and, some important times, like now, with Rafa. "Feli… "
They moved at the same time, flowing closer together, Feli's leg sliding over his.
"Do me harder," Feli said, half muttered now. He was close enough for his mouth and nose to be pressing into Rafa's hair where it was spread on the pillow. It made something explode in a small but definite way in Rafa's brain.
The only sound was of them: their breathing, the faint slap and whispers of skin on skin, the rustle of bedsheets as they shifted to get the angle right and to stop knuckles bumping. Feli was naked all the way down, long planes of pink-gold skin, so smooth it looked like Rafa's fingers would hardly feel any friction if he stroked them down over Feli's stomach. He didn't quite dare.
"Come on. Fuck," Feli said. Rafa bumped his forehead to Feli's and Feli whimpered between his teeth.
He always wore this one aftershave, a Gucci one, and it smelled like pine trees on the beach, and it made Rafa think of being out in nightclubs, an endless trail from Hamburg to Miami to Sydney. Dinners and suits and fashion and dressing up, all those things Rafa wasn't good at. A clear and pinsharp image of Roger--looking so perfect, warm smile and soft gaze--presented itself in his mind.
All his thoughts froze for a moment, then started up double time. A small choked noise bubbled up in his throat. He pushed his hips forward, thrusting into Feli's tightening grip. He heard himself moan.
"You getting close?" Feli asked. "Rafa?"
He could see Feli's mouth, the swollen curves of it and the tip of his tongue licking out.
"Yeah. Yeah. Jesus. Yes."
He was tensing like a bow, unable to stop himself, from the tips of his feet to his neck. There was no time to get the tissues. Feli groaned softly just as Rafa spurted out all over his hand. Some splashed across onto Feli's stomach, and Rafa ached and stared and tried so hard to keep stroking Feli fast and hard and in rhythm. He was using his right hand, so it was easier.
Feli gave a small breathless cry and tipped his head back. Eyes closed, mouth gently open, he came silently. Rafa watched him, but Feli just stayed with his eyes closed, muscles all loose, until Rafa realised from the faint snores that Feli was now asleep.
He dabbed at the mess on Feli's stomach, then cleaned himself off, dragged a blanket over Feli and padded off to sleep in Feli's room.
***
They were in a bar. It was someone's birthday, but he wasn't quite sure whose. There were a lot of people. He suspected it was Carlos's sister's boyfriend's. There was a lot of noise happening. He settled in his seat and let everyone's talk wash over him. It was a good night.
"So, tell me again," Sergio said, in Spanish. It was a relief to switch out of English. He tapped Rafa on the knee. "When Roger beat you that time in Hamburg, what happened?"
Sergio loved to hear about epic, dramatic wins and crushing losses, like they were the sports version soap operas. Rafa privately thought it was sweet, but he wasn't about to tell Sergio Garcia he was sweet. Instead he just smiled and happily began to tell the story.
"Well. Sure. I was a set up, you know? Roger was playing—not bad, because he's never bad—"
"Never?"
"No, never. What I mean is, when he's bad, he's only bad for Roger. Which is brilliant for anyone else. When he's good he's perfect. Beyond perfect. Like the best thing you've ever seen. He makes it into a—a dance."
"I've seen that," Sergio, said, nodding.
"Yeah! The movement, the form… Beautiful. Sometimes, I want to only stand and watch him, maybe forever. Sergio, he's amazing. Like no one else. I don't even know how he manages it. It's like he was born different."
Sergio was nodding, wide eyed, clutching his beer in one large hand. "Amazing."
Rafa leaned forward. "So he wasn't bad, but I was playing good, you know? I was having some moments—excellent shots--" He closed his eyes for a second, seeing it.
"And Roger came back—"
"Yes, yes! That's it. He came back, broke me a lot. We fought all the way." He realised he had his fists clenched on his knees. "When you go from winning to losing, if it's shocking like that, you can get sick and you despise yourself—"
"I get that—"
"But with Roger— it makes me almost—happy to lose to him."
"Wow," Sergio said, still wide eyed.
"Maybe happy's the wrong word," Rafa said. "It made me want him all the more. I mean, the win. I want the win so bad, you know? It means more. When Roger plays me—"
Feli slapped his shoulder. "Jesus Christ, Rafa," he said. "You're talking about him again?"
Not a lot made Rafa go red, not these days. Feli still seemed to be able to manage it, and also perhaps some of his uncle Miguel's locker room stories. He lifted his chin and gave Feli a tight smile that made his jaw hurt. "So?"
"I did ask," Sergio said, glancing at Rafa kindly.
Feli put his arm round Rafa's neck, too tight, and gave him a weird soft look. "Don't worry, it's all good."
"I love to hear about it," Sergio said. "A lot. But anyway. Look, I want you to come over when you come to Madrid. There's a new course opening-- "
Feli sat down next to him. There was something about the way his hands lingered on Rafa's shoulders, and how he caught Rafa's glance.
He talked with Sergio for a little more, and with Carlos, his mother, friends, everyone having fun until Rafa's throat was quite dry and he had too much caffeine in his veins from the cola. Feli went away and then drifted back a while later, settling close, butted shoulder to shoulder. One hand propped up his chin. He was looking unusually thoughtful.
"I'm tired," he said, looking at Rafa with clear eyes that seemed not at all sleepy. "How you doin'?"
"Let's go back, yeah?" Rafa said. The party was getting louder around them.
"Feli boy, don't get him into trouble," Uncle Toni said. "I'm coming back soon too."
They were at the same hotel, along with the rest of the team. It wasn't far. Their floor was pretty quiet. He stopped at his door and dug around in his jacket for his key card, and became very aware of Feli watching him.
"You want to come in?" Rafa said.
"Yeah. For a bit."
Inside, with the door locked, Rafa's palms got sweaty again.
"So," Feli said. He came closer, with that walk that was almost a strut, but he wasn't smiling. He seemed uncertain.
"What do you want to—do?" Rafa glanced at the Playstation.
Feli just came still closer, till he was standing right up against Rafa, so that Rafa could smell the new-leather scent of his jacket. It was weirdly shiny, in a deep blue. Feli touched his hip, and Rafa almost jumped.
"Wanna have sex?" Feli said, right out into the room.
Rafa almost gasped, like a total fool. It was only what they did. They'd just never said it. Like, ever. "Uh--Okay," he said.
"Cool."
But Feli only stared at him. They stood like that for what seemed like several eternities, until Feli put a hand in Rafa'a hair. It made Rafa deeply uncomfortable. "Your eyes've gone black."
"Don't," Rafa said.
"Don't what?"
"Don't say--things."
"What, nothing? What if I need to piss or something?"
Feli could be such a prick sometimes. "You know what I mean."
"Okay." Feli's hands were sliding up under his t-shirt, up over his ribs, caressing him in a way that Rafa wasn't used to at all. They were warm and rough and hard. "Just, take your clothes off."
His pulse spiked. "You too."
They undressed, not looking at each other. Feli paused with his hands on his zip. "Is Toni going to walk in?"
"Ah, crap. I'll lock the door."
Rafa hurried to bolt it, then came back. Feli was already naked, lying on the turned down sheets. He looked so familiar lying there, it wasn't strange at all. It even made sense that he should be doing this with Feli. In a way. He stripped and lay down facing him, on his side, unsure of how to continue with this new-found openness.
"Do you want to do the—usual thing?"
"Uh, no," Feli said, and rolled towards him. He cupped the back of Rafa's head and pressed their mouths together. His tongue brushed against Rafa's lips. "I don't."
He didn't even know what to say to that, but he didn't mind Feli kissing him, at all. He let Feli push him onto his back and lean over him and kiss him more, and deeper. He stroked down Feli's spine with shivery hands, hardly daring to even touch at first, until Feli moaned a little bit and pushed his tongue deep into Rafa's mouth. Feli's erection was rubbing up against him, long and hard and so much hotter than the rest of him. He pushed one long heavy thigh between Rafa's, so that the weight of it pressed down on Rafa's cock.
He knew how heavy Feli was, from all the times they'd goofed around. But it was different like this, being underneath a man for actual sex, with Feli moving his hips like that and the feel of hard muscles and wiry hair rubbing over Rafa's skin. Feli's stubble was scratching near Rafa's mouth, and he was pressing down with hard force to control the kiss. Rafa pushed back, and Feli made a choked noise.
Rafa's thoughts dissolved into just wanting more of everything. He slid his hands down Feli's back, letting his nails drag, and hooked one hand under the curve of his ass, pulling him in closer and tighter so that their hips fitted better. Feli made a hot little surprised gasp, like he hadn't expected Rafa to do that.
Rafa didn't think about it too hard when he spread his thighs. It just seemed like the thing to do. Feli shifted to settle between them quickly enough. After a moment, they stopped kissing and looked at one another.
"What?" Rafa said.
Feli had a flush high across his cheekbones and his mouth was much deeper red now. Rafa couldn't stop looking at the dark fringe of his lashes around his wide eyes. He looked so pretty. Between their bodies, Feli's cock was pressed to his, length to length and every small movement sent shivers of pleasure along Rafa's spine. He raised his head to stare down at them, then fell back with a moan.
"S'hot," Feli said. "Yeah?" He curled his hand around the both of them and squeezed.
"Yeah," Rafa said. He had both hands on Feli's ass now, shamelessly there, grabbing and pulling him in.
"Do you want to?" Feli said, lowering his head to Rafa. His voice was low and soft.
"Want to?"
"Do you want to fuck?"
"You mean—"
"Yeah." Feli was watching him, his gaze darting over Rafa's face, from his eyes to his mouth and back again. "You look so hot," Feli said. "So good." He stroked Rafa's cock and kissed him softly, moving his lips over Rafa's mouth to his jaw, kissing over it and down to his neck. "Have you ever done it that way—with her?"
Rafa shook his head, speechless. He was flushing a scalding red. The air was sucking out of the room, and suddenly Feli seemed twice as heavy and this seemed at least twice as strange. His heart was hammering.
"Feli—"
"Will you let me?" he murmured, like he was seducing some girl. His mouth was soft and warm on Rafa's skin, and this was turning into something Rafa hadn't even guessed he'd wanted.
"Won't it hurt?" he said.
"Not if it's done right."
Feli was working him a little harder, sucking harder at his neck, pushing his cock against Rafa's stomach.
"I-- dunno. You've done it before—right?"
"Yeah, I never hurt anyone."
Feli kissed him again, more deeply. Rafa held on and kissed him back, hard so that their noses rubbed together awkwardly. He wanted to not think too hard about what he'd just agreed to, but it was all there in his head. Feli was going to fuck him. Actual sex with a man. This was some way beyond just 'helping each other out.' He pushed at Feli's shoulders.
"Don't we need something?" he said.
"Stuff. It’s in my room. I'll fetch it."
Rafa sat on the edge of the bed and waited while Feli slung on his clothes and unbolted the door, sneaked a look and then dashed off. How many rooms had they shared over the years? He thought about the endless wrestling and messing about on beds. Was this what was behind it? No, he hadn't spent years lusting after Feli.
An image of Roger floated into his mind. Oh, God.
Rafa stared down at his own erection. It was wilting a little, deprived of all the attention, and it was scared now. He put his hand around it and squeezed, helping it. What was he doing? Maybe he should stop all this and phone Xisca and tell her everything. He tried to imagine her reaction and failed. It could go several ways: indifference, rage or hilarity. His leg started jiggling all by itself. He fell backwards on the bed with a groan, blotting out the light with one arm thrown over his eyes.
The door opened and closed.
"Rafa?" Feli said.
Rafa sat up. "Let's just do it."
"I always knew you were romantic, but—"
"Shut up."
Feli slipped off his jeans and strode over to the bed, then knelt next to him. "Okay." Feli bit his lip. "Turn on your front?"
Rafa slid back and turned over, and his heartbeat began to pick up. The sheets were too slippery under his hands and they wrinkled into sharp little waves under his knees. Feli cursed softly right behind him, so close that his thighs pressed up against the backs of Rafa's legs. He touched Rafa's waist.
"Okay?"
Rafa only nodded. He didn't trust his voice to work. He clung onto the bed as Feli worked a slippery finger into him. When it was all the way in, Rafa let his face sink into the pillow and just tried to work out what he was feeling. Feli was being so careful and quiet, but Rafa could feel his cock rubbing against his ass, could feel its pulse and his own, banging harder and louder in his ears as Feli slid his finger free.
"Now," Feli said, almost inaudibly. Then he bent down and pressed his mouth to the base of Rafa's spine, so that Rafa shivered and arched. He licked at Rafa's skin then straightened up with a faint groan. He lined himself up and began to push inside.
They stayed quiet. Feli moved carefully, just a little at a time. Rafa realised he was biting his own forearm, but it didn't hurt. Nothing hurt, but the rush of sensation was almost painful. It ached, felt impossible, then it turned into a feeling Rafa couldn't understand.
"There," Feli whispered, after what seemed like half an hour. He stroked his back, once, and then pulled out a little and pushed back in, beginning to fuck him in tight unsteady thrusts. "Oh fuck."
Their breathing filled the room. Rafa had lost his erection at some point, he didn't even know when. He'd been too wound up in the new sensations- the stretch and the dull tingling pleasure. But as Feli moved, getting more fluid, finding a rhythm, it came back. Rafa reached between his legs and almost moaned at his need for contact.
Feli's hand tightened on his hip. With his other he traced the contours of Rafa's shoulder and arm.
"Does it feel good?" Feli whispered, and he shifted on his knees so that he sank in deeper.
"Oh, oh, god. Wait."
They both stilled. Rafa realised that drops of sweat were rolling down his temples.
"Rafa?"
"It's—okay," Rafa gasped. He tilted his hips back and let his knees slip wider on the sheets. He felt Feli adjust his position, working his hips closer.
"You're amazing," Feli said, in a rush, with that hot charge in his voice-- the sound of someone about to lose it. He began to move, his cock sliding in and out smoothly. "Shit. That's so good."
Rafa was shivering from the intensity. He stroked himself and squeezed his eyes tight shut, forehead pressed to the sheets and his mouth open and moaning. It was so good, so good, like he was floating, like all his thoughts were burning out. He felt Feli's hand on his head, scraping the hair back from Rafa's ear, then his voice close by.
"Hey," Feli whispered. "Hey. Rafael."
"Feli—"
"I know," Feli said, still in a whisper. His hand slipped on Rafa's damp skin. "I think I know who you like."
"What?"
Feli groaned and flattened himself down onto Rafa's body, letting his weight push them to the bed. Fuck. His dick felt huge like this, and Feli weighed half a ton. Rafa tried not to moan, because every time he did he sounded so girly he couldn't deal with it.
"Rafael," Feli whispered, again. "Oh, fuck yeah. I worked it out." His voice was breathy, almost laughing. Stupid Fidgiano shouldn't be laughing. He worked his arm under Rafa's stomach, pushing and groping until he could wrap his hand around Rafa's cock. "You're hot for him," Feli whispered, right into the curve of his ear.
"Don't even know—who you mean—"
"Yeah, you do, lying dog."
"Shit. Don't." He reached behind him and flailed with his open palm. It hit Feli's thigh with a loud smack. Feli grabbed his wrist and pressed it flat to the bed.
"Roger," Feli whispered, like he was saying something soft and full of romance. Rafa bit down into the pillow, every thought scattering. "Uhh, fuck, you really tightened up just then," Feli said.
"You're such a prick," Rafa gasped. "Nnghh."
"Oh yeah, you're hot for him."
Rafa pressed his face into the pillow, away from Feli's stupid mouth. His skin was burning up. He tried not to think about what Feli had just said, and then he failed, hard. It wasn't so much of a leap from Roger's beautiful perfect game to his beautiful perfect body. He let out a ragged sound.
He let himself imagine it: if it were Roger behind him now, grunting faintly with each thrust, hands all over his skin. Bare chest and stomach, Roger, sprawled naked on a bed, wanting him, hard and ready— Rafa's thighs were aching and his other arm was trapped weirdly, and his hips ached, but none of that even mattered.
"So good," Feli groaned. "Oh, yeah."
He forgot about not moaning as Feli began to slam into him.
"Oh, ohhh," Rafa said, and came over his tightly clenched fist, his hips bucking forward. Feli swore and grabbed onto his hips and went still and silent. The amazing thing was that Rafa could feel faint heat inside him, pulsing. He couldn't help squeezing down.
"Jesus Christ," Feli hissed. "That almost hurts."
He pulled out straight after, as Rafa sank to the bed, face pressed deep into the pillow.
"Fuck," Feli said, sprawling onto his back. "That was—something."
"Yeah," Rafa mumbled. Everything felt weird: his body, his ass, the inside of his head. It wasn't like sex with Xisca, where there was a nice afterglow and hugging. This was more an after-rush and he'd never wanted to hug less in his life. His heart didn't seem to want to slow down. The naked Roger in his head wasn't going away.
"I need the bathroom," he said, propping himself up on his elbows, feeling shocked and kind of queasy.
"I need the shower."
"I need the shower."
They shared in the end, but not in a sex way, just in their normal guy way. Rafa was glad that hadn't changed, even if it was strange to look at Feli's cock and know that it'd been inside him. He kept waiting for Feli to say something about—it. The Roger thing. But Feli didn't.
"I'd better get back," Feli said, when he was dressed.
Rafa stood in the middle of the room in just his underwear. "Yeah, or Toni might find you."
They shared a small smile. Feli didn't leave, somehow. Instead, they sat on the uncomfortable chairs at the dining table. Rafa slurped down fizzy bitter lemon from the mini bar and stared at Feli. Spots of it dripped down and landed on his bare thigh, sweet smelling. Feli picked at his nails and checked his watch.
"I need to go soon," he said.
"Okay." He tapped the base of the bottle against the glass table top until Feli took it off him. "You won't tell anyone?"
"Why the hell would I do that?"
"I don't mean just the sex." He slumped down in his chair. It was way too late to go to the gym, and anyway he was shattered, but he wished he could lose himself in something. He didn't want to go to bed and to lie awake, because he'd have to think about sex, and about Roger, and all the things Feli had said while they were fucking. Compared to that, John Grisham just wasn't going to cut it. "You know, the other—matter," he said. "The Roger thing."
Feli pursed his lips and there was an awkward moment when everything they'd done and said that night hung there in the air between them, like something visible. Feli's lips still looked too red, a giveaway to what he'd been doing, to anyone who cared to look.
"Yeah, well. That's between us." Feli cleared his throat and looked away. "All of it is. If that's the way you want it."
Rafa tapped his fingernails on the glass top. "It's not just about what I want."
"You think he'd freak out if you told him?"
"What? Of course!"
"Okay, no need to yell at me. Anyway, he might be more open minded than you think. He's a classy guy."
"There's no point. What’s the point?"
Feli stood up and stretched, then grinned. He shook out his arms. "What's the point in being alive then?"
Rafa grunted. "It's time we went to bed."
"I'll see you, then," Feli said, and reached over and patted his shoulder, kind of awkward but with a smile.
"Yeah, okay," Rafa said. He reached up to touch Feli's wrist for a moment. "You sleep well."
When Feli had gone, Rafa stood up and went to dig in his jeans pocket for his phone. He did have Roger's number. He'd saved it nearly four years ago, ever since that first phonecall, even managing to transfer it from phone to phone. Maybe he could text him to ask how he was. There must be some excuse he could think of. He stared at Roger's name on the screen for a long while.
In the end he tossed the phone onto the couch, switched off the main lights, found his copy of 'The Pelican Brief' and crawled into bed. Tomorrow there was tennis, and the day after and the day after that too. Ice showers, blisters, burning muscles. Simple normal things.
He drifted to sleep thinking about Roger anyway.
Characters: Feliciano Lopez/Rafa Nadal (with implied Roger/Rafa too)
Rating: NC 17
Disclaimer: This is all entirely fictional.
Notes: I really wanted to write something about how Rafa might cope with being on tour all the time, and also Feli because Feli is pretty. Couple this with me obsessing over his Roger-love and you have the following story. Probably. Thank you very much to
emungere and buckle_berry for beta and helpful comments and encouragement. Gratuitous photos: Feli, Feli and RafaSummary: Feli has figured something out about Rafa. Rafa and Feli are closer than people think.
That night, the night after Rafa won his quarterfinal match and Feli lost his, they played five straight hours of Tiger Woods PGA Golf Tour.
The people in the next door room banged on the wall to complain about the noise. That was on the last hole, and Rafa was losing hard. Feli was pissing him off, digging his elbow into Rafa's ribs on the last putt. His bare arm was sticking to Rafa's skin.
"You're going to lose."
"Get off," Rafa said. Feli laughed in his face. The bed was squishy and hard to balance on, and they rolled together. Feli's' arm went round his waist. "Get off me, loser Fidgiano."
"I'm not on you," he said, which was just a lie.
Rafa's thumb slipped on the controls. The ball pinged off into the sand. "Argh. No, no."
"Tiger's gonna be upset. You just made him hack sand all over Greg Norman."
"I hate you, uugh. Damn it."
Feli's leg was pressed up hard against his; baggy dark blue shorts with flowers on, bare knees and shins, strong toes digging into Rafa's foot now and then. He'd been aware of it all evening, a bit too aware. Rafa looked down at the controls still in his hands, then dropped it on the floor. Feli took his arm away and rubbed sharply at his face. Neither of them spoke, but Feli was looking at him. His face was still and calm, still retaining a lot of the too-prettiness he'd had a few years ago, even though he was older now.
Rafa noticed these things about men, how good they looked. He thought people might be surprised if they knew that, so he didn't tell them.
"What?" he said.
"Nothing," Feli said, and he pulled himself back on the bed and flopped down. "Hey, maybe we should sleep. It's getting late."
"Yeah, soon." Rafa lay down next to him. The ceiling had small round lights embedded in it. Feli's room was down the hall. He turned his head and watched the rise and fall of Feli's bare chest. His skin was so smooth it looked almost polished. He looked back at the lights and squinted.
"How's Xisca?" Feli said, after a minute or so.
"I dunno. She hasn't been in touch recently."
"Oh, huh?"
"She says she's too busy."
"With college and stuff, yeah?"
"Maybe, I guess. Yeah."
"Major lack of sex."
"Pretty much."
"Same as me, then." Feli rolled onto his side, propped up on an elbow. Half of his face was hidden by hair, but a smile was quirking up one side of his mouth. They both knew where this was heading. "So, you wanna…?"
Rafa's palms prickled with sweat. Like Feli said when they started, it was just a way of releasing tension. Nothing else. It didn't mean anything. It was just guys together, helping each other out.
"Sure."
"Okay," Feli said.
They wriggled further up the bed together, so they faced each other, heads on the pillows, the same position they always did it in. Feli pushed his shorts down and off, and Rafa did the same. They were both getting hard. Rafa felt the pulse of blood and the tightening of his skin in anticipation. His mouth was dry. It'd been a long time since it'd been anything but his own hand. Weeks.
Feli's mouth was looking so pink, full lips a little parted. Rafa stared at them and got harder. Like this, they were careful not to touch too much, which was strange when Rafa thought about how easily they touched all the rest of the time. Rafa laid his hand on Feli's thigh, uncertain.
Feli's breathing was getting heavier and his eyes were glazing. He was looking down at Rafa's hand. "Like last time, do it like that. That was good."
"Okay," Rafa said again. Feli's dick was long and a bit thinner than his own, a creamy colour, flushing to dark pink. His pubes were… really obsessively neat. "What did you do?" Rafa said, looking.
Feli hissed out a little breath. "Just waxing. I don't want a hairy arse, right?"
"I suppose," Rafa said. He'd never really considered such a thing.
"Uhnn. Wait. Get the tissues, I don't want come all over me."
Rafa blushed, hard, and reached an arm behind him to grope for the box, dragging some free. Feli laughed and then bit his lip, rolling closer. His fingers slid around the shaft of Rafa's cock, cool and firm and tight. Rafa groped for him in turn, and heard Feli let out a soft breath. Their faces were so close, like they might kiss. Rafa shut his eyes and concentrated on the warmth and roughness of Feli's palm, and the way he did that thing with his thumb, rubbing along the underside and up over the head, dragging his foreskin up and back down. He was so good at that, knew just how to do it so Rafa liked it.
"Uhh," Rafa breathed, getting into it. He opened his eyes to see Feli watching him.
"Whoa, you're desperate," Feli said, like they were talking about the weather.
"God, ahh. Shut up." If he said that to Xisca, she'd tell probably slap him. Feli just smiled at him, sort of slow and flirty, like he did with girls and, some important times, like now, with Rafa. "Feli… "
They moved at the same time, flowing closer together, Feli's leg sliding over his.
"Do me harder," Feli said, half muttered now. He was close enough for his mouth and nose to be pressing into Rafa's hair where it was spread on the pillow. It made something explode in a small but definite way in Rafa's brain.
The only sound was of them: their breathing, the faint slap and whispers of skin on skin, the rustle of bedsheets as they shifted to get the angle right and to stop knuckles bumping. Feli was naked all the way down, long planes of pink-gold skin, so smooth it looked like Rafa's fingers would hardly feel any friction if he stroked them down over Feli's stomach. He didn't quite dare.
"Come on. Fuck," Feli said. Rafa bumped his forehead to Feli's and Feli whimpered between his teeth.
He always wore this one aftershave, a Gucci one, and it smelled like pine trees on the beach, and it made Rafa think of being out in nightclubs, an endless trail from Hamburg to Miami to Sydney. Dinners and suits and fashion and dressing up, all those things Rafa wasn't good at. A clear and pinsharp image of Roger--looking so perfect, warm smile and soft gaze--presented itself in his mind.
All his thoughts froze for a moment, then started up double time. A small choked noise bubbled up in his throat. He pushed his hips forward, thrusting into Feli's tightening grip. He heard himself moan.
"You getting close?" Feli asked. "Rafa?"
He could see Feli's mouth, the swollen curves of it and the tip of his tongue licking out.
"Yeah. Yeah. Jesus. Yes."
He was tensing like a bow, unable to stop himself, from the tips of his feet to his neck. There was no time to get the tissues. Feli groaned softly just as Rafa spurted out all over his hand. Some splashed across onto Feli's stomach, and Rafa ached and stared and tried so hard to keep stroking Feli fast and hard and in rhythm. He was using his right hand, so it was easier.
Feli gave a small breathless cry and tipped his head back. Eyes closed, mouth gently open, he came silently. Rafa watched him, but Feli just stayed with his eyes closed, muscles all loose, until Rafa realised from the faint snores that Feli was now asleep.
He dabbed at the mess on Feli's stomach, then cleaned himself off, dragged a blanket over Feli and padded off to sleep in Feli's room.
***
They were in a bar. It was someone's birthday, but he wasn't quite sure whose. There were a lot of people. He suspected it was Carlos's sister's boyfriend's. There was a lot of noise happening. He settled in his seat and let everyone's talk wash over him. It was a good night.
"So, tell me again," Sergio said, in Spanish. It was a relief to switch out of English. He tapped Rafa on the knee. "When Roger beat you that time in Hamburg, what happened?"
Sergio loved to hear about epic, dramatic wins and crushing losses, like they were the sports version soap operas. Rafa privately thought it was sweet, but he wasn't about to tell Sergio Garcia he was sweet. Instead he just smiled and happily began to tell the story.
"Well. Sure. I was a set up, you know? Roger was playing—not bad, because he's never bad—"
"Never?"
"No, never. What I mean is, when he's bad, he's only bad for Roger. Which is brilliant for anyone else. When he's good he's perfect. Beyond perfect. Like the best thing you've ever seen. He makes it into a—a dance."
"I've seen that," Sergio, said, nodding.
"Yeah! The movement, the form… Beautiful. Sometimes, I want to only stand and watch him, maybe forever. Sergio, he's amazing. Like no one else. I don't even know how he manages it. It's like he was born different."
Sergio was nodding, wide eyed, clutching his beer in one large hand. "Amazing."
Rafa leaned forward. "So he wasn't bad, but I was playing good, you know? I was having some moments—excellent shots--" He closed his eyes for a second, seeing it.
"And Roger came back—"
"Yes, yes! That's it. He came back, broke me a lot. We fought all the way." He realised he had his fists clenched on his knees. "When you go from winning to losing, if it's shocking like that, you can get sick and you despise yourself—"
"I get that—"
"But with Roger— it makes me almost—happy to lose to him."
"Wow," Sergio said, still wide eyed.
"Maybe happy's the wrong word," Rafa said. "It made me want him all the more. I mean, the win. I want the win so bad, you know? It means more. When Roger plays me—"
Feli slapped his shoulder. "Jesus Christ, Rafa," he said. "You're talking about him again?"
Not a lot made Rafa go red, not these days. Feli still seemed to be able to manage it, and also perhaps some of his uncle Miguel's locker room stories. He lifted his chin and gave Feli a tight smile that made his jaw hurt. "So?"
"I did ask," Sergio said, glancing at Rafa kindly.
Feli put his arm round Rafa's neck, too tight, and gave him a weird soft look. "Don't worry, it's all good."
"I love to hear about it," Sergio said. "A lot. But anyway. Look, I want you to come over when you come to Madrid. There's a new course opening-- "
Feli sat down next to him. There was something about the way his hands lingered on Rafa's shoulders, and how he caught Rafa's glance.
He talked with Sergio for a little more, and with Carlos, his mother, friends, everyone having fun until Rafa's throat was quite dry and he had too much caffeine in his veins from the cola. Feli went away and then drifted back a while later, settling close, butted shoulder to shoulder. One hand propped up his chin. He was looking unusually thoughtful.
"I'm tired," he said, looking at Rafa with clear eyes that seemed not at all sleepy. "How you doin'?"
"Let's go back, yeah?" Rafa said. The party was getting louder around them.
"Feli boy, don't get him into trouble," Uncle Toni said. "I'm coming back soon too."
They were at the same hotel, along with the rest of the team. It wasn't far. Their floor was pretty quiet. He stopped at his door and dug around in his jacket for his key card, and became very aware of Feli watching him.
"You want to come in?" Rafa said.
"Yeah. For a bit."
Inside, with the door locked, Rafa's palms got sweaty again.
"So," Feli said. He came closer, with that walk that was almost a strut, but he wasn't smiling. He seemed uncertain.
"What do you want to—do?" Rafa glanced at the Playstation.
Feli just came still closer, till he was standing right up against Rafa, so that Rafa could smell the new-leather scent of his jacket. It was weirdly shiny, in a deep blue. Feli touched his hip, and Rafa almost jumped.
"Wanna have sex?" Feli said, right out into the room.
Rafa almost gasped, like a total fool. It was only what they did. They'd just never said it. Like, ever. "Uh--Okay," he said.
"Cool."
But Feli only stared at him. They stood like that for what seemed like several eternities, until Feli put a hand in Rafa'a hair. It made Rafa deeply uncomfortable. "Your eyes've gone black."
"Don't," Rafa said.
"Don't what?"
"Don't say--things."
"What, nothing? What if I need to piss or something?"
Feli could be such a prick sometimes. "You know what I mean."
"Okay." Feli's hands were sliding up under his t-shirt, up over his ribs, caressing him in a way that Rafa wasn't used to at all. They were warm and rough and hard. "Just, take your clothes off."
His pulse spiked. "You too."
They undressed, not looking at each other. Feli paused with his hands on his zip. "Is Toni going to walk in?"
"Ah, crap. I'll lock the door."
Rafa hurried to bolt it, then came back. Feli was already naked, lying on the turned down sheets. He looked so familiar lying there, it wasn't strange at all. It even made sense that he should be doing this with Feli. In a way. He stripped and lay down facing him, on his side, unsure of how to continue with this new-found openness.
"Do you want to do the—usual thing?"
"Uh, no," Feli said, and rolled towards him. He cupped the back of Rafa's head and pressed their mouths together. His tongue brushed against Rafa's lips. "I don't."
He didn't even know what to say to that, but he didn't mind Feli kissing him, at all. He let Feli push him onto his back and lean over him and kiss him more, and deeper. He stroked down Feli's spine with shivery hands, hardly daring to even touch at first, until Feli moaned a little bit and pushed his tongue deep into Rafa's mouth. Feli's erection was rubbing up against him, long and hard and so much hotter than the rest of him. He pushed one long heavy thigh between Rafa's, so that the weight of it pressed down on Rafa's cock.
He knew how heavy Feli was, from all the times they'd goofed around. But it was different like this, being underneath a man for actual sex, with Feli moving his hips like that and the feel of hard muscles and wiry hair rubbing over Rafa's skin. Feli's stubble was scratching near Rafa's mouth, and he was pressing down with hard force to control the kiss. Rafa pushed back, and Feli made a choked noise.
Rafa's thoughts dissolved into just wanting more of everything. He slid his hands down Feli's back, letting his nails drag, and hooked one hand under the curve of his ass, pulling him in closer and tighter so that their hips fitted better. Feli made a hot little surprised gasp, like he hadn't expected Rafa to do that.
Rafa didn't think about it too hard when he spread his thighs. It just seemed like the thing to do. Feli shifted to settle between them quickly enough. After a moment, they stopped kissing and looked at one another.
"What?" Rafa said.
Feli had a flush high across his cheekbones and his mouth was much deeper red now. Rafa couldn't stop looking at the dark fringe of his lashes around his wide eyes. He looked so pretty. Between their bodies, Feli's cock was pressed to his, length to length and every small movement sent shivers of pleasure along Rafa's spine. He raised his head to stare down at them, then fell back with a moan.
"S'hot," Feli said. "Yeah?" He curled his hand around the both of them and squeezed.
"Yeah," Rafa said. He had both hands on Feli's ass now, shamelessly there, grabbing and pulling him in.
"Do you want to?" Feli said, lowering his head to Rafa. His voice was low and soft.
"Want to?"
"Do you want to fuck?"
"You mean—"
"Yeah." Feli was watching him, his gaze darting over Rafa's face, from his eyes to his mouth and back again. "You look so hot," Feli said. "So good." He stroked Rafa's cock and kissed him softly, moving his lips over Rafa's mouth to his jaw, kissing over it and down to his neck. "Have you ever done it that way—with her?"
Rafa shook his head, speechless. He was flushing a scalding red. The air was sucking out of the room, and suddenly Feli seemed twice as heavy and this seemed at least twice as strange. His heart was hammering.
"Feli—"
"Will you let me?" he murmured, like he was seducing some girl. His mouth was soft and warm on Rafa's skin, and this was turning into something Rafa hadn't even guessed he'd wanted.
"Won't it hurt?" he said.
"Not if it's done right."
Feli was working him a little harder, sucking harder at his neck, pushing his cock against Rafa's stomach.
"I-- dunno. You've done it before—right?"
"Yeah, I never hurt anyone."
Feli kissed him again, more deeply. Rafa held on and kissed him back, hard so that their noses rubbed together awkwardly. He wanted to not think too hard about what he'd just agreed to, but it was all there in his head. Feli was going to fuck him. Actual sex with a man. This was some way beyond just 'helping each other out.' He pushed at Feli's shoulders.
"Don't we need something?" he said.
"Stuff. It’s in my room. I'll fetch it."
Rafa sat on the edge of the bed and waited while Feli slung on his clothes and unbolted the door, sneaked a look and then dashed off. How many rooms had they shared over the years? He thought about the endless wrestling and messing about on beds. Was this what was behind it? No, he hadn't spent years lusting after Feli.
An image of Roger floated into his mind. Oh, God.
Rafa stared down at his own erection. It was wilting a little, deprived of all the attention, and it was scared now. He put his hand around it and squeezed, helping it. What was he doing? Maybe he should stop all this and phone Xisca and tell her everything. He tried to imagine her reaction and failed. It could go several ways: indifference, rage or hilarity. His leg started jiggling all by itself. He fell backwards on the bed with a groan, blotting out the light with one arm thrown over his eyes.
The door opened and closed.
"Rafa?" Feli said.
Rafa sat up. "Let's just do it."
"I always knew you were romantic, but—"
"Shut up."
Feli slipped off his jeans and strode over to the bed, then knelt next to him. "Okay." Feli bit his lip. "Turn on your front?"
Rafa slid back and turned over, and his heartbeat began to pick up. The sheets were too slippery under his hands and they wrinkled into sharp little waves under his knees. Feli cursed softly right behind him, so close that his thighs pressed up against the backs of Rafa's legs. He touched Rafa's waist.
"Okay?"
Rafa only nodded. He didn't trust his voice to work. He clung onto the bed as Feli worked a slippery finger into him. When it was all the way in, Rafa let his face sink into the pillow and just tried to work out what he was feeling. Feli was being so careful and quiet, but Rafa could feel his cock rubbing against his ass, could feel its pulse and his own, banging harder and louder in his ears as Feli slid his finger free.
"Now," Feli said, almost inaudibly. Then he bent down and pressed his mouth to the base of Rafa's spine, so that Rafa shivered and arched. He licked at Rafa's skin then straightened up with a faint groan. He lined himself up and began to push inside.
They stayed quiet. Feli moved carefully, just a little at a time. Rafa realised he was biting his own forearm, but it didn't hurt. Nothing hurt, but the rush of sensation was almost painful. It ached, felt impossible, then it turned into a feeling Rafa couldn't understand.
"There," Feli whispered, after what seemed like half an hour. He stroked his back, once, and then pulled out a little and pushed back in, beginning to fuck him in tight unsteady thrusts. "Oh fuck."
Their breathing filled the room. Rafa had lost his erection at some point, he didn't even know when. He'd been too wound up in the new sensations- the stretch and the dull tingling pleasure. But as Feli moved, getting more fluid, finding a rhythm, it came back. Rafa reached between his legs and almost moaned at his need for contact.
Feli's hand tightened on his hip. With his other he traced the contours of Rafa's shoulder and arm.
"Does it feel good?" Feli whispered, and he shifted on his knees so that he sank in deeper.
"Oh, oh, god. Wait."
They both stilled. Rafa realised that drops of sweat were rolling down his temples.
"Rafa?"
"It's—okay," Rafa gasped. He tilted his hips back and let his knees slip wider on the sheets. He felt Feli adjust his position, working his hips closer.
"You're amazing," Feli said, in a rush, with that hot charge in his voice-- the sound of someone about to lose it. He began to move, his cock sliding in and out smoothly. "Shit. That's so good."
Rafa was shivering from the intensity. He stroked himself and squeezed his eyes tight shut, forehead pressed to the sheets and his mouth open and moaning. It was so good, so good, like he was floating, like all his thoughts were burning out. He felt Feli's hand on his head, scraping the hair back from Rafa's ear, then his voice close by.
"Hey," Feli whispered. "Hey. Rafael."
"Feli—"
"I know," Feli said, still in a whisper. His hand slipped on Rafa's damp skin. "I think I know who you like."
"What?"
Feli groaned and flattened himself down onto Rafa's body, letting his weight push them to the bed. Fuck. His dick felt huge like this, and Feli weighed half a ton. Rafa tried not to moan, because every time he did he sounded so girly he couldn't deal with it.
"Rafael," Feli whispered, again. "Oh, fuck yeah. I worked it out." His voice was breathy, almost laughing. Stupid Fidgiano shouldn't be laughing. He worked his arm under Rafa's stomach, pushing and groping until he could wrap his hand around Rafa's cock. "You're hot for him," Feli whispered, right into the curve of his ear.
"Don't even know—who you mean—"
"Yeah, you do, lying dog."
"Shit. Don't." He reached behind him and flailed with his open palm. It hit Feli's thigh with a loud smack. Feli grabbed his wrist and pressed it flat to the bed.
"Roger," Feli whispered, like he was saying something soft and full of romance. Rafa bit down into the pillow, every thought scattering. "Uhh, fuck, you really tightened up just then," Feli said.
"You're such a prick," Rafa gasped. "Nnghh."
"Oh yeah, you're hot for him."
Rafa pressed his face into the pillow, away from Feli's stupid mouth. His skin was burning up. He tried not to think about what Feli had just said, and then he failed, hard. It wasn't so much of a leap from Roger's beautiful perfect game to his beautiful perfect body. He let out a ragged sound.
He let himself imagine it: if it were Roger behind him now, grunting faintly with each thrust, hands all over his skin. Bare chest and stomach, Roger, sprawled naked on a bed, wanting him, hard and ready— Rafa's thighs were aching and his other arm was trapped weirdly, and his hips ached, but none of that even mattered.
"So good," Feli groaned. "Oh, yeah."
He forgot about not moaning as Feli began to slam into him.
"Oh, ohhh," Rafa said, and came over his tightly clenched fist, his hips bucking forward. Feli swore and grabbed onto his hips and went still and silent. The amazing thing was that Rafa could feel faint heat inside him, pulsing. He couldn't help squeezing down.
"Jesus Christ," Feli hissed. "That almost hurts."
He pulled out straight after, as Rafa sank to the bed, face pressed deep into the pillow.
"Fuck," Feli said, sprawling onto his back. "That was—something."
"Yeah," Rafa mumbled. Everything felt weird: his body, his ass, the inside of his head. It wasn't like sex with Xisca, where there was a nice afterglow and hugging. This was more an after-rush and he'd never wanted to hug less in his life. His heart didn't seem to want to slow down. The naked Roger in his head wasn't going away.
"I need the bathroom," he said, propping himself up on his elbows, feeling shocked and kind of queasy.
"I need the shower."
"I need the shower."
They shared in the end, but not in a sex way, just in their normal guy way. Rafa was glad that hadn't changed, even if it was strange to look at Feli's cock and know that it'd been inside him. He kept waiting for Feli to say something about—it. The Roger thing. But Feli didn't.
"I'd better get back," Feli said, when he was dressed.
Rafa stood in the middle of the room in just his underwear. "Yeah, or Toni might find you."
They shared a small smile. Feli didn't leave, somehow. Instead, they sat on the uncomfortable chairs at the dining table. Rafa slurped down fizzy bitter lemon from the mini bar and stared at Feli. Spots of it dripped down and landed on his bare thigh, sweet smelling. Feli picked at his nails and checked his watch.
"I need to go soon," he said.
"Okay." He tapped the base of the bottle against the glass table top until Feli took it off him. "You won't tell anyone?"
"Why the hell would I do that?"
"I don't mean just the sex." He slumped down in his chair. It was way too late to go to the gym, and anyway he was shattered, but he wished he could lose himself in something. He didn't want to go to bed and to lie awake, because he'd have to think about sex, and about Roger, and all the things Feli had said while they were fucking. Compared to that, John Grisham just wasn't going to cut it. "You know, the other—matter," he said. "The Roger thing."
Feli pursed his lips and there was an awkward moment when everything they'd done and said that night hung there in the air between them, like something visible. Feli's lips still looked too red, a giveaway to what he'd been doing, to anyone who cared to look.
"Yeah, well. That's between us." Feli cleared his throat and looked away. "All of it is. If that's the way you want it."
Rafa tapped his fingernails on the glass top. "It's not just about what I want."
"You think he'd freak out if you told him?"
"What? Of course!"
"Okay, no need to yell at me. Anyway, he might be more open minded than you think. He's a classy guy."
"There's no point. What’s the point?"
Feli stood up and stretched, then grinned. He shook out his arms. "What's the point in being alive then?"
Rafa grunted. "It's time we went to bed."
"I'll see you, then," Feli said, and reached over and patted his shoulder, kind of awkward but with a smile.
"Yeah, okay," Rafa said. He reached up to touch Feli's wrist for a moment. "You sleep well."
When Feli had gone, Rafa stood up and went to dig in his jeans pocket for his phone. He did have Roger's number. He'd saved it nearly four years ago, ever since that first phonecall, even managing to transfer it from phone to phone. Maybe he could text him to ask how he was. There must be some excuse he could think of. He stared at Roger's name on the screen for a long while.
In the end he tossed the phone onto the couch, switched off the main lights, found his copy of 'The Pelican Brief' and crawled into bed. Tomorrow there was tennis, and the day after and the day after that too. Ice showers, blisters, burning muscles. Simple normal things.
He drifted to sleep thinking about Roger anyway.
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"Don't," Rafa said.
"Don't what?"
"Don't say--things."
"What, nothing? What if I need to piss or something?"
Feli could be such a prick sometimes.
yeah. their relationship is just note perfect. i love it.
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Why isn't there a community for hot Spanish tennistas? Why?
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.............
okay.
so like.
first of all, i can barely wrap my brain around the fact that you WROTE FELI AND RAFA BECAUSE FUCKING SHIT THAT IS HOT. ohmygod. you got feli so well and i love how real and awkward and sweet and hot it was between them, their interaction at the party was so hot, god, i forget how sexy it is to catch those secret exchanges in public. it was perfect. and the conversation between them and rafa thing about roger and ohgod. thank you so much for this.
(i swear to god, if you everever wrote feli/nando, i would die. like. die.)
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So glad you enjoyed! Feli and Nando are so sweet, it's tempting. I can really see them having a ridiculously adorable on/off romance, sort of cuddling a lot. In secret.
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I am very touched by Rafa's wanting, desire and his relations with Feli.
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I adore how you write Rafa. I am in love with this fic! Beautiful images, the Feli/Rafa friendship, Rafa's crush on Roger, all of it! THANK YOU! xoxo
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You strike a perfect balance in relationship between the friendship with benefits. Rafa's realizations. Mix with the Hot Smex
Than you for writing this.
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When people write him, it seems the first things coming to mind are "hot/gorgeous" (I know, duh), then "smart*ss". "Intuitive" doesn't usually come up first.
Poor Rafa. He's so transparent, at least to his friends.
(Not that it isn't totally right. Or, as
Thank you for writing this!
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Thank you!
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wow
i really loved how you wrote feli, especially when he figures out that rafa like roger.
different and original, loved it
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I suspect that Feli knows more about Rogelio (http://emungere.livejournal.com/229729.html?thread=3112801) then he will admit to. Which makes him taunting Rafa about it so much hotter.
Fidgiano. You used that word in 'Underneath your clothes'. I've never seen it used before, so I thought Rafa had been refering to one of the Soccer teams or to a player. But it's Feli, huh?
still retaining a lot of the too-prettiness he'd had a few years ago, even though he was older now. He is getting older. I don't know how much longer he'll be able to pull off the young/cute/sexy look. Makes me kinda sad for him. Hope he is able to grow old gracefully. XD
Everything felt weird: his body, his ass, the inside of his head. It wasn't like sex with Xisca, where there was a nice afterglow and hugging. This was more an after-rush and he'd never wanted to hug less in his life. His heart didn't seem to want to slow down. The naked Roger in his head wasn't going away. How do you come up with this kind of goodness? Really, it's just not humanly possible to get into someone's head like that. Your Masters Degree in Slash Psychology is really being put to good use.
And then of course, there's the actual porn, which was hot and nasty and so very well done.
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I do hope he'll grow old gracefully - he's got the bone structure. But yeah, he won't be able to pull off the pretty young thing look so much anymore.
Ahaha, Slash Masters. Everyone would be so keen to attend lectures. :D
Thank you!
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Your portrayal of Feli is great. Makes a fantastic change from the more... I guess, two dimensional guy we see in some fics, where he's more just the pretty cardboard cutout boy.
Rafa was gorgeous in this, as always. You really worked him out, I think, all his thoughts and feelings. You were so in his head, it's remarkable.
The sex, oh the sex. Hot as. And made all the hotter with Rafa thinking about Roger, and Feli knowing it. Oooh, yes.
Also, "It made me want him all the more. I mean, the win.?
LOL, win.
<3
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So happy you liked how I wrote Feli - he's got more going on I think than we really get to see in a lot of fics. ... And I love how pretty they are together. *shallows*
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I'm really so pleased you enjoyed!