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1.
Jannik isn’t exactly someone you could consider small. Not in regard of the general population and not even in the tennis world where everybody seems to be defying height statistics. He’s a 6.3 feet athlete, training his body every day. He knows what he looks like, and it isn’t small or fragile.
Yet, when he takes a closer look at how some people treat him, you could think the exact opposite. Well, by some people, he means Carlos, really.
This is something he noticed once. How the Spanish man acts around him. And now, several months after this weird but deranged observation, it’s all he can think about when he sees Carlos interact with him.
It’s just —there’s something very strange about it. Something Jannik can’t quite understand, but has resigned himself to put up with when it happens.
Like now.
Darren had come up to him this morning with the proposition of practicing with Carlos today. It was a good idea, because there are little better occasions than facing such a good player to improve his game.
A good idea — on paper only, because Jannik is not feeling so great since he woke up. He must have caught a cold or something, and even though he said yes to practicing with the Spaniard, he knew he was going to regret this decision in the afternoon.
And indeed, he is very much cursing himself when he feels how little strength he has while standing on the court. It’s barely been more than twenty minutes. He tries to serve another time after failing his first serve but his sight blurs as he moves. The ball ends up directly into the net.
He sighs and looks up, trying his best not to collapse when his vision sways a little too much. Finally, his gaze fixes on Carlos, looking at him with worried eyes just across the net.
“Jannik. Janni — you feel ok?” The Spaniard asks in a soft, concerned voice.
God. This man cannot hide a single emotion, Jannik realizes once again. Carlos reaches him before he has time to speak.
“All good yes, I’m good” He tells him, trying his best to sound sincere. “Just, um, tired”
He must fail, evidently, because the big brown eyes don’t leave his face for a second.
“But —” Carlos tries. He tilts his head, thinking. “You do not look so good Jannik — maybe, maybe you rest no?”
Jannik sighs, the sweat from the illness crystallizing on his face. Maybe Carlos isn’t wrong, maybe he should rest. This is not going to be a great practice session, he realizes. It feels like shit, because this is a rare opportunity, but at the same time, he can’t put his body any more at risks for no good outcome.
“Maybe. Sorry.” He wipes the sweat of his face “Sorry Carlos, we barely started —”
“Oh no. No, no — no” The Spaniard is quick to interrupt “No worry Jan, really. Health is the most important right? You should rest, and drink water” He stops, than continues, like he can’t avoid it “— maybe eat something no? I have snacks. You like—” He starts to walk toward his bag.
“Carlos, no — not necessary” Jannik laughs, a little embarrassed at the attention. “I will, uh, eat later you know?”
“Oh right, of course. Something nice eh? Need to eat good to compete” He mumbles to the Italian with a little frown on his face.
“Uh. Sure?” He answers, maybe a bit too much like a question.
“And rest, lots of rest — sleep early and warm” He continues, devastatingly.
This. This is what Jannik is talking about, when he says there’s something weird about how the Spanish man treats him.
Because why is Carlos always so — nice. No. Gentle?— with him? He always acts like he needs to take care of Jannik, like he would go out of his way to make sure nothing bad happens to him.
Jannik is a grown man. A top world athlete. He doesn’t need that.
And again, this is exactly what happens right after.
When he goes back to his stuff and warns both his trainers that he is not feeling good and has to stop, he begins to put everything back in his bags. He can’t wait to go back to his bed. Sleep early and warm, just like Carlos said, his mind provides annoyingly.
He goes to put the two bags on his shoulder when the weight suddenly disappear from his hand.
He turns his head and faces Carlos, bags already on top of his own. “I take that” He says firmly “You rest”. And he looks ridiculous, engulfed in both of their stuff.
“But —” He begins helplessly, looking to Darren and Juanki who are too busy chatting with each other to react to his distress signals.
“No but! I carry, you rest” Carlos repeats again, and starts walking off the court towards the lockers.
Jannik freezes in place, once again lost on how to react to Carlos strange behaviour with him. There’s no reason for him to do that. Okay, maybe the Italian is not feeling so great, but he’s not on the verge of death either.
When Carlos senses that Jannik isn’t following him, he turns back to face him, reaching with an hand. “—Coming?” He asks with his usual big smile.
Jannik can’t help but trail after him helplessly, cheeks flushing and feeling very much like a damsel in distress.
2.
It happens again, barely a few days later. Carlos and him are both finishing their media obligations when they cross path, just on the outside of the public restricted area.
They chat for a little bit, and it’s nice, before people start to notice them. At first, it’s just a shy boy asking for a autograph, then a few girls interrupting them to take photos together, but after a few minutes, a crowd starts to form around them.
They should have been more careful, Jannik thinks, and stayed in the private building. He doesn’t exactly feel in danger, but there is some unease at being surrounded by so many unknown people.
Carlos doesn’t seem to mind that though, even if his smile dropped a little by the fourth time they were interrupted in their catch up. On the contrary of Jannik, he seems perfectly at ease with the crowd starting to gather and asking for his attention.
For a moment — an eternity in Jannik’s mind, the Spaniard seems happy to reply to every fan with a nice smile, while Jannik starts talking less and less. He does give the Italian a look every few seconds, assessing.
At some point, someone gets a little too close to him and Jannik’s body shake with the effort of not running away. He doesn’t like crowd, and he especially doesn’t like it when people he doesn’t know touch him, even if it’s just a brush by mistake.
He tries to keep his calm and think of a way to get out of here when he feels a small touch on his back, low and right above his waist. “All good Jan?” The familiar voice of Carlos reaches him softly, just below his ear.
He nods shakily, not wanting to disturb the moment of Carlos with his fans. It’s fine, he just has to pull himself together for a little more. He can do it.
He figures Carlos’s hand will leave his back now, but strangely, it doesn’t. The hand stays right here, light but present.
“We leave now, ok?” The Spaniards tells him, gently, giving a little more pression on his waist to get his attention.
Thank god.
The situation unfolds like this : Carlos doesn’t take his hand off of him. On the contrary, he uses it to drive Jannik through the crowd and toward the parking lot. At some point, they have to navigate close to other persons’ bodies, and the younger man press Jannik more firmly against him, trying to make sure he doesn’t bump into strangers and kind of shielding him with his own body.
At least, that’s what Jannik guesses, because at some point he closes his eyes to try and regulate the panic, somehow putting all of his trust into the strong hand on his waist.
Luckily, the familiar touch grounds him a little. He knows the panic is too much and unjustified, especially when he sees how well Carlos seems to be doing with the situation, but he cannot help it. He lets out a shuddering sigh when they go through another body of people.
“It’s okay Janni, we are almost here, promise” He hears the Spaniard reassure gently, and devastatingly,it does help.
They finally reach the private parking and finally, Jannik feels like he can take a real breath, finding his footing again after too much unanticipated stress.
Carlos hand is still on his waist when he tells him with a little smile “Woah, that was many people no? Crazy!” He laughs.
Jannik laughs as well, a little breathlessly “Yes too much for me. Sorry, not good with — big crowd” he tries to explain. “Well not stadium crowd of course, but you know?”
“I know” Carlos says kindly “I should have — more careful you know?” He looks a little guilty.
Jannik tries to not think about why Carlos thinks any of this is his fault, because what, it clearly isn’t. It’s not his rival’s responsibility if he has stupid panic attacks. So instead, he focus on the first part of his reply.
“You know? How you know?” He wonders at loud.
Carlos smiles fondly. “Because I know you of course.”
“Oh.” Jannik reacts, a little speechless.
“So next time, I will be more careful I think” He tells him, his big puppy eyes shining with sincerity. “So no worry, ok?”
And what is Jannik, once again — a grown, independent man, supposed to reply to that? He can’t even begin to decipher at which moment it became normal for Carlos to say things like this. Like taking care of Jannik is his responsibility.
“Ok” He replies a little dumbly, not wanting to feel any more confused by what this all means. Carlos gives him a huge smile at that, clearly reeking satisfaction.
When they walk up the parking lot to get back to the restricted area, the Spaniard — previously standing at Jannik’ right side, suddenly goes to his left. Jannik must give him a weird look because Carlos laughs, a little embarrassed and explains “Traffic here, so better you stay this side. More safe!”.
Ok — What the fuck?
Terribly, all the Italian can think about is that Carlos’ hand is still on his waist — still light but grounding.
3.
They meet in the quarter final during the Asian tournament season. The draw was, for once, not working toward another final together.
Jannik is still really excited about it, because he really likes playing Carlos, and he knows the feeling is mutual.
The only thing that can have an impact on his good mood is the heat of the weather, and the fact that Carlos is currently up one set.
6-4 , 3-5 — still everything to play for. It will not be the first time the Italian win a match after starting down a set. And he is right, as he takes the second set for himself, putting them back to equal footing and sending a determined look to his coaches.
During the changeover, he goes back to his seat. He takes his cap off, pass a hand through his sweaty curls and hydrate with both water and electrolytes.
He then passes to the other part of his routine — the snacks.
He takes out the plastic bag with all of his usual snacks and looks for what he wants. He knows he can be a little peculiar with his habits but they make him feel grounded and secure.
Except — well except he can’t seem to find the one he is looking for. The peanut and chocolate protein bars he so carefully asked for his team to buy, as always.
He takes out all of the content of the bag without success, feeling frustration build up in his body. Maybe they fell into the larger bag ? Jannik tries without much hope, and no sucess.
He probably left them this morning on the table, he realizes, dejected. He sighs sadly and grab some fruit bar, knowing this is not a stupid little thing he can let get through his head in the middle of an important match.
He’s about to open the wrapping paper when an object falls into his field-of-view. It’s the same type of protein bar he was looking for, the one he usually eats during matches.
There’s a hand attached to it and Jannik expect to find a ball kid or someone bringing him something from his team, because they probably noticed his problem.
Except when his gaze follow the hand holding the bar, the tan arm and Nike outfit, his eyes fall right upon Carlos’ face. Jannik freezes, surprised, and Carlos shake the snack a little, a big smile on his face.
“For you” He says, simply, like there’s isn’t anything weird to be giving your opponent — biggest rival, a snack during a match. Not only a snack, Jannik’s favourite snack.
When Jannik still doesn’t grab it, stunned, Carlos lays the bar gently in his hands. “For you, to eat!” He repeats, like Jannik is a dumb child, and the one making this weird.
“— Carlos, what?” He finally asks him.
The other man shakes his shoulders simply “You look for them now right? You always eat this one, so I think, I can give it to you”
“But how— “ How do you know? He wants to ask, but this is not the same nor the place, instead, he says like a dumbass “Are you stealing my snacks?”
“What!” Carlos exclaims with wide eyes “Oh no, Jan — no this is not — Just, you like them so I have them in case, you know?”
No, he does not know! It doesn’t make sense. Shit, he is trying to get into Jannik’s head to win the match? No— not a very Carlos thing to do, he knows that.
“Thank you” Jannik says, instead. Maybe if he acts like this is normal, then he will starts to actually believe it ?
Carlos smiles “No problem, anytime Janni.” He goes back to sit to his side but before leaving he tells the Italian “I want that you are always at your best, you know? More fun for us when we fight!” Then he jogs back.
Jannik wants to scream into his towel.
Instead, he rips open the snack’s wrapping paper.
4.
They’re sitting at a table in a small pub, just outside of the tournament building . It’s barely past eight pm, which is far too early for Jannik to leave politely, especially since they’ve been there for less than an hour.
Carlos is right next to him, talking animatedly with Holger and Ben, laughing loudly every couple of seconds. God, they are loud.
This isn’t Jannik usual scene, these three forming their own little crew, one with which the Italian rarely interact often. Tennis is — as everything in life, made of its own little society where everyone has their own affinity.
He has his own favorites, Jack and Alex notably, calmer and quieter than these three are for sure.
Speaking of Alex — where the hell is he?
The only reason Jannik agreed to Carlos proposition of coming with them to get drinks — well softs, of course — after practice, was because Alex was supposed to be there as well. That made it easier to say yes to Carlos pleading eyes.
But the Australian is nowhere to be seen, and Jannik feels too embarrassed to text him about it, not wanting to sound like he can’t socialize with other players alone.
The truth is — it’s not even that bad. If he is honest with himself, he’s even having fun, listening to Holger and Carlos bickering, with Ben rolling his eyes exaggeratedly every few minutes.
“— Right, Jannik?” Carlos rips him out of his thoughts, giving him a playful smile “You agree with me of course?”
He smiles a little, fond despite himself, at the Spaniard new attempt to include him in the conversation.
He’s been doing exactly that the whole time, finding excuses to bring him back into their chat. Carlos seems quite good at noticing when Jannik feels less at ease and starts getting a little quiet.
It’s weird, being — Seen? Known?— like this.
He’s not much of a big talker, except with people he really knows, but Carlos is certainly used to him talking more when they are alone together.
Honestly, he feels quite happy just listening to them, being there and humming along, but he still appreciates the effort Carlos makes none the less.
“Um, agree with what, uh?” He asks, feeling bad at not having listened more carefully.
If Carlos minds, he doesn’t show it one moment, instead laughing “Janni — you need to defend me!” He whines a little “So, so mean with me, these two”
He almost wants to ruffle Carlos’ hair at his tone, endeared by his eager puppy look. Cute.
Cute — Cute? Dangerous fucking thought.
He straighten up. Trying to act normal, all he can manage to reply is a sympathetic little “Oh?”.
“Right?” Carlos gives him a blinding smile, as if Jannik just gave a full on speech about siding with him, instead of a pathetic little one syllabic non-word.
He hears Holger snicker, and the conversation carry-on like this, with the three friends talking enthusiastically — Jannik nodding along and sometimes interrupting with short sentences, mostly prompted by the Spaniard.
At some point, he realizes how at ease he feels. Relaxed as if those were his own close friends, and focusing on the soft brush of Carlos’ hand against his bare thigh.
At first, It feels accidental. An occasional touch with his fingers against Jannik. But it keeps happening, again and again, until the Italian has to accept it has to be intentional.
He doesn’t know what to feel about it, except that it feels nice, relaxing even, for some reason. And as always, Carlos’ touch grounds him. He lets out a soft little sigh, which cause the Spaniard to look at him for a brief moment, and give him a gentle smile, discreet.
The hand stays against his thigh.
“— Wait, wait, shut up, listen” The Dane suddenly whispers at them — not so discreetly. Holger lays his head closer to the table, concentrating. Carlos and Ben stop talking immediately. “Oh my god, man, they are talking about us!” He laughs “Listen, the table right behind me — I heard them say something about tennis player, and Alcaraz”
The four of them listen curiously. And indeed, Holger is right. There are two men, facing them, clearly talking — a little drunk, obviously — about them.
He hears the taller one of the two say “That’s crazy men! I can’t believe it’s them, this is so good”
“Are you sure?” The other replies
“Mate — that’s Alcaraz I promise — Right here! What the fuck” His friend insists, making the four tennis players laugh, Ben mouthing at them oh my god, Alcaraz, no waymockingly.
They listen for a few more minutes, like children, snickering when the — clearly tennis fan — guy starts describing each of them to his friend.
Carlos Alcaraz, tennis god, impressive.
Holger Rune, strong, a little hotheaded.
Ben Shelton, funny, American, talented.
Jannik is having a lot of fun really, listening to all of that, gossiping with them. At some point, the other man says “What about him? Um, the ginger one?”
Carlos gives the Italian a playful smile, waiting.
Then the tall man speaks. “Oh him? That’s Jannik Sinner. “ Jannik smiles back at the Spaniard. “Yes, Sinner — good but you know — He’s the cheater.”
Oh.
His face falls, ringing in his hears. His eyes leaves Carlos, looking at his lap almost instinctively. There’s an awkward blank between the four of them. No more noises and laughs.
He feels small suddenly, humiliated.
After a few seconds, he hears Carlos breath intake “Jan—”. He can’t hear it, can’t hear whatever reassuring thing the Spaniard will try to say to make it better.
Jannik cuts him off with a high pitched laughs. It sounds fake even to his own ears. “Ha — well — a bit awkward no? Funny!” He tries, but the words sound empty.
Carlos doesn’t laugh, and he can feel his eyes on him like a heavy weight. The Italian looks back to see him open his mouth again to say something but Holger saves Jannik by cutting Carlos off “Yeah, ha, too much drinks for them I think no?” He says awkwardly, then changes the subject not-so obviously.
The conversation picks up where it stopped, as if nothing happened. Except, this time, Jannik can’t pretend to enjoy it or participate in it. His mind is still frozen, playing the words in his head, again and again.
Cheater. The Cheater. Jannik Sinner The Cheater.
So unfair, he thinks sadly.
His self-wallowing is interrupted by a hand squeezing his left knee. Carlos, of course. The Spaniard tries to meet his gaze but Jannik is good at avoiding. The humiliation still feels very much here.
Carlos seems to realize his tactic to catch the Italian’ attention is not working because he moves his hand to cover his tight instead. Right above the seam of his short. He leaves it there for a moment, than breathes “—Jan.”
Suddenly, it all feel too much for Jannik.
Too much humiliation. Too much anger at the situation. And too much confusion at Carlos’ actions, once again.
He gets up, dislodging Carlos’ hand at the same time, and tries to say calmly to the three tennis players. “I think I go now. Sorry — things have come up”
He doesn’t wait for their answer, even if he hears Carlos calling his name, and leaves the table, reaching quickly for the open air.
Jannik steps outside of the bar and he feels like he can finally breathe, even though his mind is still reeling from the previous events. He just wants to go home, to be honest. Still, he doesn’t get the time to think about it because a voice calls his name.
A voice he knows by heart now, his name wrapped up in a Spanish accent “— Jannik! Wait”
The Italian sighs and turns around “Carlos — it’s late, so I go back to the hotel”.
“Okay” Carlos says softly “Okay — of course”
“I’m just, uh, tired” Jannik says, feeling like he has to justify himself for some reason.
Carlos smiles “It’s okay Jan. I call you a cab then”. His hand goes to his pocket to find his phone, probably.
“No what — you don’t have to do this” He replies, unsettled. Jannik has a phone and he obviously has enough money to pay for his own taxi.
But Carlos is still typing on his phone, not perturbed by his objection.
“Carlos—”
“Too late” The Spaniard laughs “Car coming in five minutes”
“You’re being ridiculous” He protest, but there’s a barely contained smile in his own voice, despite himself. It’s so — extra. But for the first time since he heard the stranger talk about him, he feels light again. “I pay you back” he says, to be difficult.
Carlos shakes his head, looking proud of himself “Nah, never” Then he adds, as if it was normal “Never you will pay with me”
This is so — Or, well, maybe he is like this, with everyone ? Jannik muses. That’s not a reasonable explanation, but at least, maybe it would make him feel more normal.
As is it, his chest just feels warm for some reason.
“There, so quick!” Carlos interrupts his thoughts, pointing at the black Mercedes coming toward the entry of the bar.
“Oh” Time to go then? Jannik feels a spark of disappointment, despite his own choice to leave. He has no time to explore this feeling, as Carlos opens the door of the car, for him to climb into.
Gentleman, as always. Girls must really love him, that much is obvious.
“All ok?” The Spaniard asks him with patience, when Jannik takes a moment to come closer.
“Perfect. Thank you” He replies, a little overwhelmed. He gets a big smile in return. “Thank you for tonight Carlos, it was nice” he says honestly.
“Yes?” Carlos asks. “I wanted you to have a good time, you know”. When Jannik gets inside the car, he stays close, a hand on the open door.
“It was” Jannik reassures him.
“I like spending time with you” The younger man tells him, a little too honest and cash, as always. Hearts on his sleeve.
“I, uh, I like it too” He says back, always a little more guarded. “Have a good night, Carlitos”. The nickname escapes his lips.
There’s a rosy blush on Carlos’ cheeks. “Oh — um, yes, sweet dreams Janni. And tell me when you’ve arrived, please!”
Jannik nods, even though he already know he won’t. There’s no reason he should. This is not what friends like them are supposed to do.
That’s the kind of things you text your partner. Did you get home safe sweetie? Or some shit like this.
Carlos goes to close the door, but at the last moments, he stops.
“And please, please Jannik, do not — do not listen to idiots. You’re the best player I know — so incredible! I never play tennis so good like I play with you.” He hits the car door lightly “They know nothing — but I do — and you are so, so good! So fuck them, you know?”
Oh.
Jannik lower his head, feeling both shy and thankful for the words. “I know, I — Thank you" he tries, a little choked up.
“No. No thanks — just the truth, I promise. Okay?”
“Okay.” The Italian repeats, a fond small smile on his lips.
“Okay.” Carlos nods to himself, content. “Bye Jannik, see you soon” And he finally closes the cab’s door.
The engine starts and the car drives past the bar, Jannik looking at the silhouette of Carlos becoming smaller and smaller, but still there, apparently waiting for the car to be at of sight to go back inside the bar.
Later, after a well-deserved shower, he looks at the texts on his phone while rubbing a towel over his wet curls.
Carlos Alcaraz
Janni
You get back safe?
I wait for your message to be sure 🙁❤️
God. Jannik is so, so — fucked.
5.
They get the announcement when the night starts to fall. The rain has almost stopped, but it is now too late for the game to resume.
Jannik’s annoyed, but at least, it’s only an exhibition.
He sees Carlos talking with his team from afar. The Spaniard probably just got the news as well. Jannik passes a hand on his face, then gets up.
The only positive is that the hotel is situated just next to stadium. Some five or ten-ish minutes’ walk and he will be under the warmth of his shower. It’s especially conforming as the air is starting to get chilly.
“I have a call to make” Darren tells him, “Do you want to wait for me?”
Jannik shakes his head, stretching his left wrist “I’ll go now I think. Walk will be good for me you know?”
“Okay. Rest well tonight champ. We resume tomorrow” Darren says gently, squeezing his shoulder affectionally.
Jannik nods and walk away “Ciao ciao”
He gets out of the stadium, into the fresh air, and starts his way to the hotel. His phone is in his hand while he tries to catch up on all of his unanswered messages.
Suddenly, he hears steps accelerating behind him, until he hears someone get closer and closer. He turns around in alert, tripping on his feet when he sees Carlos’ face right in front of him.
Steady hands catch him by the waist, saving him from a likely fall on the wet dirt. “Dios Jan — careful please”
“Carlos—” Jannik breathes, trying to find balance again.
“You scare me joder, I — don’t do it again” Carlos look at him with big eyes, as if Jannik really chose to trip all over himself.
“No— You! You scared me!” He protests, a little embarrassed.
Carlos’ hands leave his waist, and — wait, they were still on him? Jannik is getting a little too unfazed with the amount of touching the Spaniard gives him.
The other man scratched his head. “Oh — sorry. I just try to reach you, but you go so fast — long legs, you know?”
Jannik follows Carlos’ eyes, looking at his own legs. They are very long — he knows that. Carlos must find them quite weird, for sure.
“Oh, right” He hums. The Spaniard looks a little flushed. Maybe from running toward him?
“Uh, anyway — I catch you, because I didn’t see you leave” He laughs.
Jannik pauses, perplexed “Well — I’m just going back to the hotel. Are you?”
“Si, Juanki wanted to debrief but then I look around and poof—” He imitates something disappearing “You not there. So I say to him I will go find you and talk with him later”
Jannik’s eyes bulges comically, because what?
“You left your coach and debrief to — to find me?” He repeats, incredulous.
Carlos starts walking, backward, his eyes still on the Italian “Well yes, I was sure you were going back walking”
“And?” Jannik prompts, because it still makes no sense.
“And I want to be sure you are ok” He explains simply.
“Ok? Of course I’m ok” Jannik says, more lost than ever. Come one, he was winning the match before it was stopped, why wouldn’t he be?
“Oh, I mean — that you are ok on the way you know?” Carlos says, head tilted looking more like a puppy than ever. “Like — safe?”
Jannik stops on his track again “Safe?” He asks, still not sure. “You mean—”
“I mean, nothing happens to you.” The Spaniard smiles. “I make sure you arrive to the hotel with no problem”.
So he is escorting Jannik to the hotel. Okay. Maybe this has to stop. Jannik has to make it stop before it gets too confusing. Because it’s already starting to make him feels some things he doesn’t want to think about.
“Carlos, why?” He asks. Carlos is too much of a nice guy. Doing too much nice things and if he keeps it up Jannik will misunderstand them. He will start to think they mean something more than they do.
The Spaniard needs to spell it out for him. He’s just being nice. “Because I care about you, of course” He says instead.
Fuck.
“Do you want me to leave?” He asks the Italian in a small voice, dejected.
A kicked puppy. That’s all he can think about. So — devastingly, Jannik says “Of course not” Then he adds while taking a step “Let’s go?”
The smile comes back quick to Carlos’ face, blinding as ever. He trails after Jannik happily, chatting him up about everything and anything. Court conditions, his favorite shot of the match, Jannik’ new kit even.
The wind is blowing through the Italian thin shirt. His body shakes with the cold, and regrets not putting something warmer before leaving the court.
Just a few minutes remaining before he’s back inside, two or three, probably. He rubs his arms, trying to emulate warmth.
Carlos stops talking mid-sentence. Jannik looks at him curiously. “Wait, Jannik” The Spaniard tells him. Then, strips out of his sweater.
Jannik’s eyes catch on the line of tan skin right above his short, visible where Carlos’ shirt has ridden up while he was talking the piece of clothing off. Looks firm, his mind supplies helplessly.
Then Carlos offers him the sweater. “There — for you. Very warm!”
“Carlos—” Jannik, tries once more to stop him.
“You are cold” He says, stating the obvious.
“And now you will be too” The Italian sighs, somehow knowing he will not win this argument either.
“No — Spanish blood! Always too warm, no worry” He chuckles. “Please take it” and pushes it into Jannik’s hand.
He accepts it, pressing the soft material against him before sliding into it. The warmth is a relief on his skin. It’s feels big on him, especially at the shoulder. “Thank you” he says softly, a little shy.
He feels Carlos heavy gaze on him. The Spaniard seems a little frozen.
“Carlos?”
The younger man spring back into action sputtering. “Oh — no problem. Looks — looks good on you Janni — very nice”. He starts walking fast again, feeling the silence with new rambling about everything.
Jannik tries to focus on the things he says, he really does, but the sweater feels so nice on him and it smells a bit too much like Carlos — it’s just make him feel warm, protected.
Make him feel lov— no. No.
Luckily, they finally arrive at the hotel. Of course, when they reach the elevator, Carlos insists to accompany him to his door. Maybe he is afraid someone might try and kill him in the hallway or something — Jannik is too tired mentally to protest.
“You have the card?” Carlos asks him. He looks in his pocket for it, then hands it to the Spaniard, no question asked.
Carlos unlocks the door for him, holding it open for him while staying on the outside of the room.
“There you go” He says proudly “Safe! Mission accomplished”
Jannik lets out an involuntary little giggle at the ridiculousness of the situation. “Si, well done.” He stays at the border of the room, against the open door. “Wait, this” He says, a little reluctant despite himself, while pointing at the sweater he’s wearing “I need to give back”
The Spaniard shakes his head “No no, later— looks better on you anyway”
“Oh” Jannik reacts, “Really?” he says a little selfishly. Maybe he will get to keep it a little longer then?
Carlos’ right hand raises, brushing softly his face to reach a few loose curl on his forehead. He arranges them back, his nails lightly scratching Jannik’s scalp. He does it a few more time, entranced, and Jannik lets him do it silently, for some reason.
Finally, he says to the Italian “Yes — better with your hair color.” He whispers like he can’t stop now “your curls — I like them so much”
“Oh?”
“Yes — pretty” Carlos insists, cheeks fully rosy now.
Jannik’ brain is definitely fried. He has never felt more lost in his life. He doesn’t even know what to say, so he stays silent.
Carlos, probably sensing that the Italian will not say more, decide it’s time to go. Before he close the door, he gets on his toes and places a gentle kiss on Jannik’ forehead.
Oh.
Weird again, Jannik says, but doesn’t protest.
He looks into Carlos big brown eyes, unsure about what he sees in them. “Good night Janni, see you tomorrow” he tells him with a soft smile.
The door finally closes.
+1
“—Jan!” He hears the loud voice on the other side of the hotel door.
He was correct, there is someone pounding at the door. He was listening to music, trying to change his mood and somehow didn’t hear the noise immediately.
That voice. Is that — Carlos? What is he doing here?
He runs a hand through his hair, trying to put the wild curls back into place. Too much frustration made him pull on his ginger hair without care.
Finally, after another loud call of his name, he opens the door.
Carlos is indeed here, standing in front of him, dressed casually in baby blue Nike sweatpants and t-shirt. He looks warm and soft, the light color lighting the tan skin of his biceps and Jannik just want to reach out and press against them and forget about—
Shup up! He stops himself, frustrated. “Carlos. What are you doing here?” He says instead and immediately wince at his own snippy tone.
Carlos frowns a little, probably taken aback at the icy words, but his voice is gentle when he replies “Hey, um— sorry, you, eh, probably are not expecting me, I know.” His eyes leaves Jannik’s face to dart behind him, looking inside the room rapidly, maybe waiting for an invite. “Jan — are you okay?”
Jannik pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself down. “I’m okay. Bad day. It’s okay.” He answers, even though it’s not. But it will be, just not right now.
The Spaniard looks unconvinced. The polite thing would be to just take Jannik’s words for granted and leave, but of course, this is not Carlos’ style. “Can I come in?” He asks carefully.
For whatever reason, Jannik doesn’t fight him and just opens the door, gesturing tiredly for him to come in.
Soon, they are standing in the living room of the suite, awkwardly.
He wants it over as soon as he can, so he repeats, this time more kindly “Carlos please — do you need something from me?”
Carlos tilts his head slightly, frowning and sighing before opening his mouth to reply.
“I was scared” The Spaniard begins. “You— eh, scared me. Saw the match, and your cramps — you couldn’t walk. It was so bad Janni — I hate it” He finishes sadly.
The annoyance at was happened during the match comes back quickly.
Jannik scoffs. “I know it was bad!” This is not what he was expecting, even if he can’t think of anything else to explain Carlos presence in his hotel room. “I was the one retiring Carlos— I was so shit!”
“No!” Carlos says, offended. “Not shit — you were hurting! I saw your face — It was, mierda, so, so scary — I just want you to be okay. I need you to be okay.”
Jannik feels a pang in his chest. Stupid, stupid and too nice Carlos with his kind words about rivalry and good sportsmanship, making him feel weird once more when he has no energy to deal with any of it.
He just want to go to bed and finish this horrible day. Sleep or cry, whichever he can do first.
“Well, I am okay now” He replies with barely concealed anger. “It’s fine — you can go”
He’s not being fair, and usually, he would be more friendly with Carlos. But the toll of the match — the frustration, the pain — it’s still flowing through his blood. Adding Carlos and his —misplaced, too caring— behavior, it’s just a cocktail recipe for disaster.
“You don’t seem fine” The other man insist. “Jan—”
“Please, Carlos, I won’t be good company tonight, I’m sorry” He warns him. He doesn’t want to say thing he will regret once he feels better about himself.
But Carlos is still Carlos “I don’t care!”
Jannik tries to interrupts him but he can’t ‘No! Jan— I. don’t. care. Really. I just want to be here, maybe change your mind?” He gives the Italian pleading eyes and a soft voice. “Let me — please?”
And the issue is — despite everything, the Italian can never say no to him. He doesn’t even want to — even though he knows how bad of an idea this is.
After a few seconds of silent, his eyes leaves Carlos’ shamefully. Jannik cannot look him in the eyes, he wants it too much and he’s afraid that the other man will see it. “Okay.” He finally concedes quietly.
“Okay” The Spaniard tells him with a little quiet laugh, satisfaction clear in his voice. “Good.” He looks around the room. “Movie? Or maybe, you have, eh, game to play? Everything is okay for me”
“Um—”
“— I just want to be with you, you know?” Carlos continues, oblivious to the storm he is creating inside Jannik’s brain. Does he hear himself talking? Anyone would think he means something else than the pity he offers to the Italian.
Better to not answer than to say something dumb like me too, but not the way you mean it. Instead he says “Um, I have a Star Wars Lego game, if you want to. Maybe you do not like it though, maybe a bit boring”
Truth is, it’s his favorite.
Carlos smiles, teeth showing. “Perfect, yes— And you love Lego of course, so best choice, not boring! You will teach me right? How to play”
Jannik nods, a little shyly. He starts turning on the console and starting the game.
“You’re hungry? I will order us some things to eat, okay?” Carlos says while the Italian is busy selecting the options on the tv.
He stops himself. “You stay for dinner?”
“Obviously! Come on Jannik” The Spaniard laughs, like he’s a little stupid for even asking the question.
This is making feel red all over, the blood surging back to the surface of his skin. The feeling of anger that was starting to subside comes back to him in a rush.
What is there to laugh about? He feels like he is missing the joke Carlos is playing on him tonight.
No, not just tonight.
The joke Carlos has been playing on him for a while now.
The touches, the looks, the niceties — all the ways he treats him and smile, laugh, about it — like it’s normal, like they mean something more, something real and caring and — The madness of everything bubbles inside him until it’s too much.
No. It has to stop. Now.
He turns back toward the Spaniard, fury in his eyes, unable to stop himself from spilling it all out in a fresh pile of words vomit “What the fuck do you want Carlos?” He spits “I ask you why you are here and you do not answer. You treat me like I’m — like I’m—” He stutters “Like you care— like you will stay — and now you make fun of me when I ask. I don’t understand — and I’m tired of it”
Carlos looks at him with big round eyes. “What?”
“Are you making fun of me?” He finally asks, hurt. “Am I — Why are you doing all of this? Sasha had a shit day too, why are you not with him?” He frowns, thinking about it “Or maybe you will go see him after—”
“No!” The Spaniard cuts of him off. “Janni what— what are you saying?” He makes a hurt nice. “Of course not, I don’t care about him this way— “ He pauses. “Jannik. Fuck, Janni— you think I do this with everyone?”
Now, it’s Carlos who looks perplexed. Jannik frowns again “Why not?”
“Mierda, Jan — I text you all the time, I watch all of your matches, dios mio, I ask you out and I pay for all of your drinks when we go out— like all the time, I walk you home, I make sure you eat and drink at practice… I come here when you are hurt —you think I do that with Zverev? With anyone else?” He replies, dumbfounded.
Jannik feels like he’s missing something, because — because, yes, that is exactly what he thought.
“Do you — not?” He says with a small voice.
Carlos sighs loudly, his head in his head. “Madre mia. No, I do not. I thought I was being obvious” He mutters. “I though you knew”
He closes his eyes tiredly. “Know what?” He dares to ask.
Another sigh. Then, when he opens his eyes again, there are feet right in front oh him. He raises his head and meet Carlos’ gaze, a few centimeter away.
Fuck, have they ever been this close?
“Do I have to spell it out?” Carlos tells him with a embarrassed laugh, uncertainty in his voice. “I really was sure you knew — I was not discreet”
Maybe he is starting to get it now. But — still, still it make no sense. “I don’t get it” He says, painfully honest. “What — what do you want? Why are you here?”
“Jannik. Think.”
“No— Carlos, I don’t think I understand”
It must not be the answer Carlos is looking for because he steps back suddenly, a pained look in his face. “Oh.” He laughs again, but this time it sounds sad, broken. “That’s — eh, that’s alright. Um, I can go” He nods to himself “Oh, you probably never want me here I realize”
He takes a few more steps back, ready to leave. And Jannik still feels frozen, his brain unable to restart properly.
But suddenly, there’s one obvious thing. He doesn’t want the other man to leave. He does want him here. He grabs Carlos’ wrist. “No — No don’t leave. Don’t leave please”
Carlos stops, looking at Jannik’ finger on his skin. “No?”
“No” He answers, resolute.
After a few seconds of silence, he adds. “The things you do — tonight and other days — why? Please tell me why?”
“I can stop” Carlos says instead.
“No!” He exclaims instantly, instinctively. “No don’t — I don’t want you to stop” He finally says, truthfully. Because he likes it, because he wants it again. And more— maybe, if he’s understanding everything correctly.
Carlos eyes widen beautifully “Really?”
He gives him a shy little nods. “It’s nice”
If Carlos had a tail, he’s sure it would be wagging now. “Just nice?” The Spaniard jokes quietly.
“I really like it — it makes me feel—” He takes a breath. “Cared for, I guess, soft—”
There’s a gentle hand on his cheek, caressing with a thumb under his eye. “Yeah?” And Carlos is looking at him, so close once again.
“Mm—uh” he mumbles, eyes open and frozen like a deer in headlight, waiting.
There’s a press of lips on the corner of his mouth, just a gentle touch, barely there — but it’s still overwhelming, making him close his eyes at the contact. It happens, again, this time on the other side, just as gently.
“Carlos” He sighs.
“Um?” Another soft peck, on his cheek this time.
“Why though? Why me?” He finally dares to ask what has been on his mind since he realized what Carlos was hinting at.
“What do you mean?” The little kisses stops. “Janni, please look at me”
He obeys, his eyes open and he takes a little time to adjust to the sight. Fuck, Carlos looks — unbelievable, once he finally allows himself to form the though fully.
The Spaniard stays close but it’s clear he’s waiting for an answer. When nothing comes out of Jannik’s mouth, he repeats “Why are you asking me that?”
“Because…” He grimaces a little. “Because — I don’t understand what you see in me. You’re you and I’m —” He stops.
“What?” Carlos exclaims loudly, offended. “You’re amazing — best tennis I’ve ever played, and—”
“Oustide of tennis, I mean, of course” Jannik interrupts him this time. “ What I mean is— I’m not — like the insta girls, small and beautiful and —”
“Who says I want small — or insta girls?!” Carlos frowns, “And beautiful? Mierda, Janni — I don’t think you understand” He scoffs. “You’re just, so, so pretty it’s ridiculous. This is bullshit, you drive me so crazy.”
Oh. His cheeks flush. But —
“But — I know how you look at me — at my legs sometimes” Carlos gives him a guilty look. So he agrees. Jannik continues despite it. “I know they’re — long, and I’m very tall — awkward” he gives him a self-depreciating laughs.
Carlos chokes on himself a little. “Bébé no— Joder— Janni, no, that’s not why I look believe me.” He rubs his neck shamefully. “I look because — well, because you’re so hot, and I like them so much. Very — very nice legs, uh, I think”
“Oh.”
“Yes. Hard to not look when we play really.” He jokes. “But for real, bébé — fuck, ah, I can call you baby no? — I like everything about you. I dream of you. I really thought I was obvious with the way I act I guess but maybe not.” The Spaniard laughs “Try to be a gentleman for you”
Jannik makes a high pitch noise.
“I really like you.” Carlos smiles. “There’s more I can do — to prove it, if you let me conti—”
This time, he doesn’t let him finish. The Italian has spent enough time thinking, debating, denying himself. Maybe it is time to let go a little. Finally, trust this beautiful, incredible man.
He kisses him. He steps in close, grabs Carlos’ collar, and pulls him forward in one swift, decisive motion.The first kiss hits hard, breaking all the accumulated tension between them.
The other man lets out a sharp breath against his mouth, hands finding his waist immediately— like he has been waiting for this for a while —steadying himself as the kiss depends.
The make out lazily for a little while, just happy to be close to each other and to finally be on the same page. When Jannik tries to separate them to speak, Carlos brings him back for more, not wanting to let him go just yet.
After a few pecks and a lovely bite to the Spaniard bottom lip, he finally manages to take a steading breath to whisper “I really like you too. Sorry I make you work for it”
Carlos gives him a blinding smile. Maybe the biggest he has seen yet, if it’s possible. “Please never stop making me work for anything”
“You’re ridiculous” He giggles.
“You like it” Carlos says proudly, looking a little too smug.
“Maybe” He shrugs, but he’s quick to kiss back when the Spaniard presses their lips together as retaliation.
“Feel better now I hope?’
Jannik smiles, but instead of nodding, he thinks for a second and says “Um — I believe you promise me food and lego game?”
“Yes!” Carlos nods quickly and kisses his cheek “I did! Vamos then”
“You’re going to let me win now? As a gentleman” Jannik taunts him. He can’t wait to see how far he can push this little game with Carlos, now that he knows the Spanish man made it clear it was special treatment just for him.
There’s a gentle hand threating through his curls, massaging gently.
“Never.” Carlos smiles. “One thing I will always do right for you is to fight you with everything I have”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”