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He's on this gorgeous stage, with countless eyes excitedly watching, waiting for something. Beside him there's Rafa, grinning and beaming, a gentle hand resting on his back. A rush of emotion hits him, leaving him slightly shaking, but Rafa seems content, his expression nothing like his usual self-restraint.
So this is how he's going to say goodbye to tennis. He and Rafa, doing it together, and they're really doing it. He's on the edge of crying.
"Guys," He begins, as the microphone's handed to him, but then the tears begin to fill his eyes, choking him, before they flowing down his face.
He cursed silently to himself. He couldn't utter a word and it was pathetic. Rafa panics, wrapping an arm around him, his fumbling whisper tight in his ear, "Roger, it's okay, don't cry, Roger."
Before he knows it, Rafa's hands are on his face, wiping his tears away, holding him firmly, and those brown eyes were the last thing he saw before Rafa presses his lips on his.
The hot breath against his nose, the hungry small bites of Rafa's teeth and the wet sounds they're making shoot sparks up his spine in seconds. And it goes wild from there. The crowd is ignited, screaming and whistling everywhere, and he's lost in the kiss with a terrifying speed. He grunts, trying to push the Spaniard away, only to pull him closer and tighter when he gets a touch of him.
Rafa's tongue is sliding wetly against his lips, inside his mouth, licking him eagerly as he lets out a sound that he didn't even know he could make. Rafa's hands are hot on his chest and they stumble as their kiss turns messy, until he's shoved to the floor, and his poor back hits the hard ground, causing him to cry out in pain. He gasped and sat up with a cry and suddenly fell into darkness. Instead of the hard ground beneath him, he found the soft mattress. He was breathless, and suddenly everything seemed ridiculous. He blinked furiously, demanding his heart to calm down.
Next to him Mirka was awakened by him, rubbing her eyes.
"What happened?"
There was a drowsy weariness in her voice that made his heart clench with guilt. "Sorry, honey." Sighed, he shook his head, as if that would shake the images off his mind.
"Bad dream?"
"Yeah… I guess so."
"About Rafa?"
His eyes widened as he looked down. "How do you know?"
"You called his name I guess."
"Really?" He nearly choked. "Did I say anything else?"
"No. What's wrong?" She seemed more awakened and concerned now, and Roger quickly lay down, holding her in his arms. "Nothing, don't worry. Just a dream about retirement." He assured her, but she still looked worried, so he let out a dry laugh, "Well… I dreamed we retired together. Me and Rafa, at the same ceremony. Felt too real. I know it's stupid."
"It's not." She relaxed at his words, rubbing his hand in hers. "You just think too much. That's why."
"I know." But he didn't. Because he'd never thought of it. Well, retirement, maybe, but kissing Rafa… Absolutely no.
"You wanna talk about it?"
"No. No… It's okay."
"Ok."
"Night, hon." He kissed her forehead, and she closed her eyes and smiled.
It didn't take long before she fell asleep again. But Roger was wide awake and restless, the excitement and desire in that dream still burning within him. Eventually he got up and sneaked out of the bed, going into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. The cool night of Indian Wells refreshed his mind, but as the water slid down his throat, the images of the dream suddenly appeared before him, Rafa's wet messy kiss burning on his lips. He choked on the water.
He was still very troubled by it the next day as if the dream had awakened something within him and now he wouldn't be able to stop. He knew he was too obvious when Mirka found him in the bedroom and gave him a sympathetic look.
"You're still bothered by that retirement dream."
It was a statement rather than a question. Technically it wasn't entirely accurate, because he wasn't bothered by the retirement part at all, but anyway it was close.
"Yeah. I just… I don't know. I've never thought of, you know, doing it with Rafa." Jesus, saying it this way made it sound so weird.
"That's not bad, actually. But still a bit early to consider, don't you think?" She said playfully, and he laughed with her.
"Absolutely. Way too early."
"So what it was like? You made a speech together? It would be emotional."
"I forgot the details. But yeah. Like that. I cried."
"How surprising." She broke into a smile. "Rog, you're not worried about retirement, are you?"
"I'm not. I feel fine, just…" He struggled to tell her the truth but just couldn't bring himself to say it. "- The scene keeps coming back."
She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "You know what, call him. Call him and talk to him about it."
"Seriously?"
"He'll understand better. Besides you always talk about everything."
"Well not this! This - "
She frowned and gave him a strange look. "It's not like retirement is something you can't speak about."
Yeah, retirement is not. But he wasn't even thinking about the retirement part.
"That would be stupid and, I don't know, weird. Really weird. Calling him to say that."
"Won't be helpful if you just sit here and think about it."
"Then I try not to think about it." With that he let out a defeated sigh.
"Ok. But just remember to call him if you feel like." She shrugged and patted him on the back.
He smiled back gratefully, but the images of Rafa kissing him hard in front of everyone suddenly popped up, and he almost didn't swallow a groan. He shut his eyes rather helplessly when she left, and the images were still there.
The problem was that once he started thinking about it, it quickly got out of control. He started to see Rafa kissing him on the couch, against the door, and even on the bed he shared with his wife. He started to wonder the taste of Rafa's lips, and what it would be like to press his own on them.
The TV showed that Nadal's team had arrived and now they're training, working under the sun. He saw Rafa's sodden T-shirt and the faint outline of his abs and his eyes were glued to the screen, until minutes later the practice ended and Rafa turned his back and walked away, showing that famous ass of his. Roger actually cursed when the Spaniard sat down to peel the wet shirt off.
It's not that he never found Rafa sexy, he knew it, but he'd never wanted to do anything.
Well except maybe linger his eyes just a bit longer than usual when Rafa turned, simply out of curiosity. Rafa got a sweet smile and an amazing body, which not everyone has, so there's no way his curiosity wasn't normal.
He wasn't haunted. He could get it out of his head. He could close his eyes and the images would not be there.
He closed his eyes.
"Fuck it."
He opened them again decisively and took out his phone.
Mirka was right. He's a man of action. It would do him no good just sitting there and daydreaming.
Rafa, come to mine for coffee this afternoon?
On the TV he saw Rafa packing up, cell phone in hand, blinking at it several times. His heartbeat quickened and seconds later his own phone buzzed in his hand.
Sure, see you Rogi
He couldn't control the huge smile that spread over his face.
"I invited Rafa here this afternoon." He told Mirka. "You're right. I'm just gonna tell him and we'll have a laugh about it and it won't be weird anymore." He said, more to himself.
Mirka chuckled, sending a swipe of unease into his heart. But she simply nodded. "That's good. I'm sure he has his unique way."
Rafa arrived when he was getting his coffee ready. They hugged at the door and Rafa smelled like sunshine. He couldn't help but rest his chin on Rafa's shoulder for a moment to feel the heat.
It was familiar yet so new. They had hugged countless times but not at once had he felt this strong physical sensation.
"Hola Roger. This smells so good." Was it in his mind or did Rafa really snuggle up and rub his nose in the crook of his neck?
"Yeah, thanks Rafa. Come on in."
Rafa gave his shoulder another brief, tight squeeze and followed. The heat of that hand felt strong on his back, and there was a smile in that voice. "You're too kind."
He led him to the table by the window and tried not to look when Rafa's back was turned to him. And those fingers ran up and down his back to soothe him, hot lips ghosting over his ear -
"Roger?"
"Ahem." He snapped out of it, wanting to pinch himself hard. He poured them coffee, looking at Rafa from the corner of his eye and seeing his grin.
"So Rafa," He cleared his throat, "You ever had one of those dreams where you wake up and just think about it all the time?"
Rafa looked up from his cup, looking puzzled and adorable. "I usually can't remember them, no?"
"That's not - Well I mean I had a really silly dream where you and I retired together. And that is basically all I've been thinking about today."
Rafa stopped sipping his coffee and straightened up. His eyebrows jumped up with bewilderment. "You dreamed we're both retired? Like we're old men?"
Roger gave a short laugh. "No, not that. We were at the ceremony. Together. People were watching. You beside me, and it was highly emotional and I was crying. And - "
Rafa's eyes lit up as a smile stole over his face. "Would be very emotional for sure. Or maybe you just dreamed I retired because you scared of playing me." The curve of his lips clearly showed that he was teasing, but Roger didn't even hear him clearly. He was too distracted by that smile, lost his words for a while, until he suddenly realized that his mouth was open and dry.
Rafa seemed to feel his uneasiness and gently covered his hand on the table. "Rogi, we're not that old, no? Far from retiring." He looked like he was in a hurry, really trying to convince Roger. "Look at you, still making it very very tough for me, no? I don't even want to talk about how tough you made it for me."
Roger was speechless for a moment. He just looked at Rafa with a kind of amazement, completely absorbed in his earnestness.
"Nothing to worry about, Rogi. I had ridiculous dreams more than you for sure, no? Some I just know they would never happen. They're just dreams. No good to think about them too much."
"Yeah - And you kissed me."
With that Rafa's smile froze on his lips, turning into a trail of incredulity. He looked into Roger's eyes, blinking as if stunned or making sure it was all real and not a joke. Roger held his gaze, until at last Rafa let out a sound and the smile that reached his eyes returned.
"I see." Rafa murmured, more relaxed now, patting gently on Roger's hand as a secret glimmer of smile flickered in his eyes that Roger couldn't fully understand. He felt exposed, as Rafa had known it all now and he had no idea how this gonna go.
"So that's all you've been thinking about, Rogi?"
"Hey, don't laugh, I just," He gesticulated in the air, trying to explain and failed in moments. "That was weird, I know. I don't want it to be weird like forever, so I figured I gotta tell you." He muttered with a sigh, feeling weak and unconvincing.
"Not weird, Rogi. I'm happy you tell me." Rafa's smile deepened. "But you need more than just to tell me, no? You still gonna think about it if you don't know how it actually feels."
"Rafa, I don't know if that will work - " He gasped, but leaning forward instinctively.
"I promise I make it better than dreams." Words slipped from Rafa's lips as he leaned closer, and when their mouths were only inches apart he stopped moving. "Is okay?" He breathed against Roger's mouth. Roger looked up and saw Rafa staring at him with an unreadable expression in his eyes that looked very close to longing, and he could only give a tiny nod, trying to calm his racing pulse. A strong palm held his cheek, and Rafa closed the distance between them, slotting their mouths together. They're frozen like that for a split second before Roger completely melted into Rafa's mouth with a small groan escaping. He couldn't help his hand coming up to grab the back of Rafa's neck and pressed their lips together more forcefully.
Rafa tasted like coffee and sweet dessert, and it became the only thing that went on in his head - Rafa tasted even better than he had imagined. Nothing made sense until then and ridiculously he could rely on his instinct again. He wanted more. He closed his eyes and god, he hated those damn images that kept jumping up at the most inappropriate moments, but it felt right to see them now, as Rafa parted his lips easily with his tongue and licked him sweetly, making small purrs of pleasure.
Roger pressed forward and raised of his jaw with eagerness, answering every dip and angle. They only parted for a gasp of air and broke off the kiss, and his eyes glistened, fixed on Rafa's kiss-swollen lips, unable to look away. Rafa flushed a little, biting his lip, working hard to contain a broad smile.
"Wow." Roger said with a look of wonder in his eyes. "Rafa."
"Was good?"
"Good. Yeah - Was more than good."
Rafa sat back contentedly, and a rush of reluctance immediately hit him. Rafa sensed it and gave him a small wicked smile. "Rogi, if you feel very troubled again, I always like to help, no?"
Roger took in a sharp breath. "I can't be the only one who's been imagining it. I don't believe it." He declared, still a little breathless.
"I never said you were." Rafa said, his lips curved in a silent satisfied grin.
Roger suddenly leaned in to him with wide eyes, "Wait, you said you've had many similar dreams."
"Roger, we done talking about this. We talk about tennis now."
Roger looked at him in disbelief, seeing him lick his lips, the tip of his fingers touching his cup lightly.
Roger found himself gotten over that dream. Because he's now obsessed with a much more tangible sensation and he started to have a real taste of hopelessness.
And anger. And ecstasy. And challenged. And lust.
"I have to tell you something." He said to Mirka that night. "About the dream last night. You know Rafa and I…"
"He helped you out? Or is it still bothering you?"
"Well, not that anymore. Wait, why are you smiling like this?"
"Don't need to tell me the details. God." She shook her head with a chuckle. "I'm glad he pulled you out of that crisis. That's all."
"But how did you - "
"Anyone with eyes would know."
He turned pale, feeling the room spinning.
"Rog," She said, a consoling hand on his back, "I know this morning that no one but him could help you. Because you miss him, something like that, and I think that's normal, okay?"
Was it? Roger decided she was right. "Yeah. I'm fine now. Anyway I won't think about it again."
And that was what he told himself before he fell asleep.
He had a more than vivid dream with the taste of Rafa and coffee.