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Rafa couldn't remember the last time he felt this hot just by watching someone playing tennis. Maybe he never did. But right now he just felt restless and uncomfortably hot. The tiebreak was so nerve-racking. One second he didn't dare to watch, burying his face in his hands, and the next Roger hit a winner and got the match point, screams and cheers exploding around him. Suddenly shivers was surging through his body.
He felt hot all over.
Everybody was cheering but his nervousness was making him dizzy.
“Rafa, you okay?”
“Sí!”
Stefanos noticed something? No he wouldn't. Stefanos was dumb. And after all there wasn't anything to be noticed, was there?
He braced himself and fixed his eyes on Roger again. God he was so focused and dangerously hot, the sweat glistening on his collarbone. Rafa cursed and bit his lip hard.
He started to pray but Roger was faster, hitting another winner, stronger than the last. Cheers went up in the audience as Roger jumped up with a roar, his ecstatic eyes turning to his team. They did it. They won. Rafa was jumping and yelling before even realizing it, rushing to Roger as fast as possible. He was stopped by the bench though, as all his teammates were, so all he got was a group hug.
He locked his arms around Roger's back as tight as he could, though there were Sascha and Domi between, he couldn't wait.
He was excited and extremely happy, but still so not satisfied.
What was happening to him?
“Great match Roger!” He congratulated Roger as they high-fived.
“Rafa thanks buddy.”
Roger turned to him, grinning. Buddy? He frowned slightly but Roger only gave him a wicked smile before going back to his things, ready for his on-court interview.
Rafa had no reason to stay there any longer, but Roger's little smile was setting him on fire. The Swiss gave him one last glance, microphone in hand, and just by that Rafa decided to wait him in the aisle.
“Is everything all right Rafa?”
He jumped up and turned around hastily, seeing Stefanos looking at him in concern.
“Yeah, yeah. I okay.”
“Oh.” The younger man frowned. “Uhm… I probably got over worried. I just hope it wasn't the injury that kept bothering you.”
Rafa breathed out a sigh. “Don't worry about it. I'm fine. Thank you Stefanos.”
“Let's go inside?”
“You go first. I soon follow, no? Just waiting for Roger.” He said with a small apologetic smile.
Stefanos blinked, “Uhm he, you - No, well, of course.”
What did he mean of course? Rafa was flustered and annoyed at the same time.
But Stefanos just smiled sheepishly and shook his head before he left. Rafa let of a deep sigh. It was confusing. He hated lying to that kid, but what could he say? That it was nothing but Roger that kept bothering him even though he didn't know why? That would sound crazy.
Rafa groaned in frustration. He didn't even know what he was doing.
He told himself, maybe he just wanted to hug Roger alone. That must be it.
He stood there for several minutes until Roger finished his interview and signed a few autographs, finally walking towards his direction. He recognized Rafa and waved to him with a big smile. “Hey Raf!”
“Roger.” Rafa jumped to him and pulled him into a hug which Roger returned gladly. He took a long, deep breath and closed his eyes. He got a private, exclusive hug from Roger, and he figured that he should be satisfied now. But why he wasn't?
Roger inhaled deeply in the crook of Rafa's neck, taking into his scent and he suppressed the urge of shuddering, greedily breathing in as well. Roger was drenched with sweat but he smelled incredible. The Spaniard was hit by a wave of arousal and almost moaned out. Everything about Roger was simply hot, the heat passing through the damp cloth to his chest, warming him thoroughly.
“Thank you, my cheerleader!” Roger whispered in his ear, not letting him go.
Rafa squirmed awkwardly. Roger chuckled, his chest heaving and Rafa felt himself become even hotter. He pulled away, blushing like a schoolboy. “I feel better now.”
“Hm?” Roger raised his eyebrows.
“I wanted to see - to congratulate you properly. Too many people out there, no? Now I satisfied.”
“You sure?”
“Of course.” He smiled, trying to be calm, “I let you shower.”
He had problems. Something was seriously wrong with him. He quickly walked away, but Roger caught up, “Are you all right, Rafa? Your wrist hurt?”
“No. It's fine. I just…”
“Raf.”
He looked back in surprise as Roger caught his not injured wrist firmly. The strong hand on him forced him to look up into Roger's eyes.
“Get me some towels please?”
There were many in the locker room. But Rafa didn't protest, only murmuring a little yes and following Roger obediently. Roger grinned when they went through the room where all their teammates were talking and laughing, and Rafa flushed, trying very hard not to look at them.
They went into the locker room and Roger started to strip immediately, dropping his wet shirt on the bench. He smiled at a speechless Rafa, “Don't worry. Nobody was looking just now.”
“No?” Rafa swallowed, wasn't even sure what he said.
“Nope. And I think that's because they all know.” Roger moved closer, half-naked, cornered him until he had no room to escape.
“Know what?” He asked weakly, tried to turn away, only to be held still by Roger's frim hand gripped on his arms.
“That you want me. Don't you?”
“How they all know? I didn't know!” Rafa growled and Roger shut him up with a hard kiss. He only let out a muffled sound and gave up his useless struggles. He craved Roger's touch. That was the pure fact.
“Por favor.”
Roger laughed. Damn him. Rafa pulled up Roger's head by the hair and bit his lips in punishment, but Roger pinched his chin and parted his lips easily, his tongue pushing in Rafa's mouth, stroking the internal corners. They broke the kiss for air, both breathing short.
“Fuck, you really want me.”
Roger cursed as he felt Rafa's hardness forming, pressing against his stomach. Rafa groaned. “I have no choice! You too hot there.”
“Am I?”
“You know it. Three days! You doing that to me in front of everybody.” He bucked his hips up, their cocks bumping together, both rock hard, pre-come leaking. The touch was too electric. Roger hissed and pinned him harder.
“Doing what to you? I don't understand.” He grinned innocently.
“You followed me! Touched me, and made me laugh intentionally.”
“Called flirting.” Roger's grin turned wider.
“Yeah. You did that.”
“Maybe I did.” Roger captured his lips once again and they scrambled to get all their clothes off, never stopped kissing and biting each other's mouths.
They sighed at the touch of their bare skin. Rafa felt chill, couldn't control trembling. He was so screwed. He melted into Roger's arms, moaning shamelessly as Roger swiped his tongue over his earlobe. He was pushed into the nearest cubicle, his hands pressed against the cool glass. Under the spray of water Roger ran his hands all over Rafa's body, leaving goosebumps everywhere. He heard Roger murmur, “Fuck. I didn't know you were this eager.”
He pushed back impatiently, Roger's name on his lips as he felt a finger sliding into his ass. The sting only aroused him more, his cock throbbed with want.
“Raf?”
He managed out a muffled groan.
“Raf, one finger and you already lost your ability to speak?”
“Fuck, kiss me,” He demanded, already addicted to the rough feeling of Roger's lips on his. But instead of giving him what he wanted, Roger only dropped a kiss on his neck and then fell to his knees behind him. He kissed over the small of Rafa's back, pulling desperate moans out of his mouth. Roger's lips grazed over the flesh of his ass, tongue darting out teasingly to touch his most sensitive part. Not in his wildest dream dared he dream of this. The mere thought started up a flash of need inside him, and he spread his legs wider in blatant invitation.
“More.” He croaked out.
Roger hummed and spread his cheeks further. Rafa arched his back, his fingers curled helplessly against the glass of the shower, his hot breath warming and blurring it.
“Roger, please more!”
He felt the urge to just reach behind and push Roger's face into his ass. It was a dangerous idea, and he was too afraid it would displease Roger, so he just clenched his fist instead. He felt Roger smirk, his tongue finally flicking over his hole. Rafa cried out, his knees wobble, couldn't support his weight any longer.
Roger's hands became the only things that hold him still. He choked out a desperate cry as Roger lavished him, his tongue sliding in and out with little resistance, Rafa's hole loose and puffed with the water and saliva and all the teasing.
His hands scrambled, his heart racing and thumping. Roger sealed his lips over his hole and sucked, his tongue stirred inside him. Rafa made broken moans as Roger flexed his tongue again, he was breathless and on the edge of climax.
But Roger stopped right then, making him whine at the loss of heat. He was pinned hard against the glass once again as Roger stood up and pressed his chest to his back. He realized horribly that he actually enjoyed it so much, loved being manhandled like that. He really had problems.
“Can I fuck you?”
Rafa didn't trust his voice anymore, so he only gave a nod. Roger rubbed his cock at his hole and pushed inside slowly. He closed his eyes and saw stars, sobbing in pleasure, throwing his head back.
“I love the sounds you make. Better than on court, huh?” Roger attacked his neck, pulling at his earlobe with his teeth. His hand slid down to touch Rafa's cock, caressing the tip and stroking up the length. He set an agonizingly slow pace, torturing Rafa with every thrust. The Spaniard moaned with burning need, tears in his eyes as he begged, “Por favor! Fuck me now, Roger - ”
Roger started pumping Rafa's hard cock, speeding up the rhythm and slamming into him. Their hands locked, pressed tight against the glass. He squealed at the overwhelming pleasure of being penetrated, quickly shoving a hand to hushed himself.
“You can scream baby. Even if they hear they won't be surprised.”
He looked over his shoulder and glared at Roger. Arrogant shit, he thought, but he couldn't care less, only arching further back to Roger's chest. Roger felt his need and turned his face with brutal force, kissing him hungrily.
“I'm coming, Roger, I can't - ”
His orgasm approached fast, building up in his belly. He moaned desperately as Roger's thrust turned violent. “Fuck, Raf,” Roger said through pants, “Come for me.”
His body spasmed as his orgasm crashed into him. Roger groaned his name and pulled him close as he spilled deep inside him.
They stayed like that for a few seconds until Roger pulled out of him, breath heavy and hot in the steam-filled room. “Fuck.” Roger rested his forehead in the crook of Rafa's neck.
Fuck indeed.
He finally felt satisfied. Maybe too much. But it was good feeling and he wouldn't complain. He smiled and turned to face Roger, watching the water running over his sharp jaw and down his neck, pooling at the junction of his collarbone.
“Roger, we need shower.”
“I know.”
“You played great.” He couldn't resist and said it again, immediately realizing that he sounded like an idiot and blushed.
“Thanks. I fought for you.” Roger's touch became gentle. He pulled Rafa over and smeared body wash on him. Rafa purred.
“You fought for our team, no?”
“Yes. But mostly for you.” Roger grinned but his eyes glistening sincerely and Rafa could tell that he meant it.
He started to get hot again.
He coughed. “We not win yet. Quickly. We need to talk to Sascha.”
Roger laughed and obliged.
They hurried, but they were still fifteen minutes late when they went out to meet their teammates and all of them were smiling secretly, especially Stefanos. Rafa wanted to avoid their eyes but he couldn't. Behind him Roger gave his hand a little encouraging squeeze. He wanted to glare at him because Roger only had a towel wrapped dangerously low around his waist, and it wasn't doing any good to him now.
Their friends smiled briefly and returned to their conversation as they joined in as well, and Rafa relaxed, gradually feeling natural again.
Roger was so close to him, smelling fresh and talking intently with a warm hand on his back, and he couldn't be more satisfied.