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Jannik couldn’t breathe.
While trying to reconciliate with that fact, he made an effort to be aware of what was happening around him.
He was on the ground.
He was in the locker room.
Someone is trying to speak to him.
He feels cold.
Can’t breathe— the thought stopped as soon as jannik was forced to lift his head from where it had been tucked in between his knees for the past minute out of sheer panic, and after seeing who was trying to reach him through his messed up head, he folded painfully in on himself.
It was Darren who was beside himself with worry, trying to coax any word out of his player’s mouth that wasn’t a variation of ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘It’s my fault’.
“Jan… Please breathe with me, I’ve got you, you’re not out there anymore, you’re safe”, Darren repeated again and again to no avail as all it seemed to do was remind Jannik of what had happened on court.
*10 minutes earlier*
CRACK
The sound of the ball being blasted from Jannik’s racket was mesmerizing as he was locked in a toght battle against no other than Nick, their first time meeting on court since all the mess with the suspension and the nasty shit spewed by Nick to the media about Sinner.
Safe to say both were playing with the intent to prove a point, but the problem was Jannik had been feeling under the weather since yesterday, and Nick was slamming the ball so fast and hard that he was having a rough time keeping up.
Jannik was slowly starting to slip, and a feeling of despair was crawling up his chest to reside in the back of his throat, as if daring him to breathe too hard.
It was match point to Nick, with Sinner awaiting his serve, a twisted feeling settling in his guts. ‘It’s over’ thought Jannik as he could do nothing but watch the ball just barely slip through his racket and land inside.
“Game, Set, Match Kyrgios!” called the umpire as the crowd roared watching Nick do all sorts of inappropriate gestures to amp them up.
As jannik approached the net, forlorn about this defeat but ultimately unsurprised due to his condition coming into the match, he tried to maintain some semblence of respect, but he should’ve known better than that.
“Congrats on the match”, Jannik said as he shook hands with his opponent while a canera operator stood to close to comfort trying to catch any conversation between the two.
Just as jannik was about to move away and shake the umpire’s hand, Nick grabbed his arm in a painful grip which proved to be too strong to get out of and loudly proclaimed,
“What’s the matter Sinner? You played so badly I was almost tempted to let you go take a shot to make this fair!”
Jannik froze, the hairs on his arms raised as he glanced towards the camera then back at Nick, suddenly mute as his throat closed, unable to get anything out of his mouth.
There was a commotion happening to the left behind him and it wasn’t until later when watching the match replay that Jannik would see his coaches in an uproar trying to get to him and help him.
Alas, all he could seem to do was stand there and take what Nick was saying as he went on about how he missed playing him and that now everyone would see he was nothing without the “drugs” he used to enhance performance.
*present*
“Jan.. please calm down, none of this is your fault..” called out Simone, trying to hide his own worry and fear but starting to panic over Jannik’s seemingly lost eyes and heavy breaths.
Darren and he exchanged dark glances, wondering how they were going to get their player, their boy, to calm down when suddenly, they heard shouting from the corridor outside the locker room.
Simone stood, taking one last look at jannik still wrapped in Darren’s arms, and marched towards the door to give whoever was out there a piece of his mind, but was stopped in his tracks once he saw who was causing such a stir.
Standing outside was none other than Carlos, locked in a fierce glaring competition with the guard stationed at the door. As he was about to open his mouth, likely to demand entry, his gaze shifted to Simone, and in an instant his gaze softened as he pleaded “Simone, please please let me see him, I need to know if he’s okay.”
Simone had always found the relationship between Jannik and Carlos strange to say the least. They were rivals, ones who were always looking for new ways to beat the other and improve their tennis, but their was always this softness between them when they thought no one was paying attention.
Darren had once told him that they’d be their undoing, and Simone couldn’t help but agree silently now seeing Carlos almost in tears, beside himself with worry after having seen Jannik flee the court in an attempt to not spill any emotions, but the damage had been done.
“Let him in, it’s alright”, said Simone to the guard, and gestured for Carlos to follow him although he felt like it was unnecessary as the young man was practically at his heels in an instant.
“Is he okay?” murmured Carlos in probably one of the softest and most uncertain tones the coach had ever heard him speak in.
“No, but he will be,” was Simone’s honest response, and he truly believed it watching how Carlos rushed to Jannik’s side, with Jannik practically jumping out of Darren’s arms right into the Spaniard’s, almost sending the coach tumbling down much to Simone’s amusement.
“Let’s give them some space,” muttered Simone as he and Darren made their way out of the room, wanting to give the two some privacy.
Carlos felt relief at finally having Jannik in his arms, under his protection, the nasty rage that was swirling around his mind at bay for now in favor of getting Jannik to breathe and stop sobbing his heart out.
“Janni..Please stop crying…you are not alone, I’m never letting you go” were just some of the many mumblings Carlos was pressing into Jannik’s hair, weaving promises of safety through flame-kissed curls as his arms brought the aching man closer to his body.
“Ca- Carlos- I can’t brea—please!” cried out Jannik in his fit of panic, eyes widening as he stared into nothing, unable to focus his mind on a task his body should know goddamit, and now he was making a fool of himself in front of Carlos.
“Jan- Jannik!” stated Carlos in the firmest tone Jannik had ever heard him use with him, and he couldn”t help but glance into those caramel brown eyes which held an intensity and protectiveness that should be shocking to Jannik, but he knew better.
After all, they had always been on the precipice of something, never brave enough to admit, but it couldn’t be hidden or denied any longer.
“Breathe with me, mi zorrito, please copy me”, whispered the younger as he lifted Janniks palm to his chest and took deep, stabilizing breaths, watching how the Italian, eyes still squeezed shut, finally started taking in some air without having his chest feel like it was about to collapse.
After a few minutes of silence, Jannik opened his eyes and found Carlos already staring, a fondness in them that made Jannik feel even safer, if even possible.
As Jannik opened his mouth to start an apology, he was met with Carlos silencing him by pressing his palm to his cheek and connecting their foreheads.
“I hope you don’t actually think I’m letting you apologize for something that could never be your fault,” said Carlos with certainty that made it hard for Jannik to believe he was anything but genuine.
He felt a shame start to curl around his chest, and couldn’t help but lower his eyes, breaking the contact with the other.
“When Nick brought up the case, it- it made me feel stuck, like I cou- couldn’t move or talk even when I wanted to,” came Jannik’s quiet confession.
Carlos gently placed his hand under Jannik’s chin, slwoly lifting his face until he could see the ginger’s precious eyes glittering with unshed tears.
“That bastard will need centuries of practice before he can even somewhat compare to you, amor, but even immortality wouldn’t be enough time for him to compare to you as a human,” finished Carlos, leaving Jannik to stare at hime with wide eyes and a stuttered breath, as if unable to register the admiration Carlos obviously holds in regards to him.
“Carlos… you- i..” stammered Jannik, struggling to express the amount of love he felt for the boy facing him.
“I know, amor, I think we’ve both known for a while now, right?” said Carlos, sureness coating his words.
Jannik nodded fervently, but he needed to make the other understand how much he meant to him.
“Remember few years back, when we played against each other in a practice session, not keeping score?” Jannik waited for Carlos’ confirmation to continue. “It was the first time I was not focused on my game, first time it hadn’t mattered who scored more, because I was lost in you Carlos, in your tennis, in your smile, in your eyes…
“At the time I thought I was just thinking too much because you were my rival, but I know that it was actually the start of me loving you, and I know you might not reciprocate, I would never expect anyt— “
Jannik was cut short as he barely had time to registar Carlos’ mouth on his before he felt hands in his hair and on his waist, tugging, making him surrender to the feeling and kiss Carlos back with equal fervor.
The kiss was heated, to say the least, both pouring all their want and love into it as if trying to make up for lost time.
Once they broke apart for much needed air, Carlos, still panting, took Jannik’s face in his hands gently, and said, “Never doubt my feelings for you, amor, I’ve loved you since we before people even labeled us rivals.”
Overjoyed, all Jannik could do was drag his lover back to him and connect their lips once more, this time with fondness and love pouring in between them.
“Ti amo, amore mio,” whispered Jannik into his lover’s lips.
“Te amo más, mi tesoro,” replied Carlos, eyes holding nothing but wonder and love for the boy who stole his heart long ago.