Work Text:
London, 11/20/2010
"Tell Andy he is stupid lying jerk."
"Tell Rafa he's an obsessive asshole who really needs to let it go."
"Tell Andy I gonna let it go when he say yes he lose the match!"
"Tell Rafa he fucking conceded that game because he couldn't play penalties and so we drew and anyway - "
"Guys, if you want me to leave the room so you can talk to each other in private," Novak sighed.
"I not gonna talk to him," Rafa sniffed. "I don't talk to liars."
"I didn't fucking lie! Nole, can't you make him - "
"Whoa," Novak snapped, sitting up. Andy's head slipped off his chest and hit the bed with a thump, followed by an indignant yip. Rafa twisted to look up at him, wide-eyed, cheek still mostly pillowed on Novak's thigh. On the muted television across the room, Chamakh scored the first goal in a replay of the North London derby, but none of them was watching now. "Okay, first of all, I cannot make either of you do anything, and I do not want to ever hear that again. Secondly, you argue about this for weeks now and I am really fucking sick of it, so you need to either stop fighting or just shut the fuck up, okay?"
"But is his fault - "
"I didn't start - "
"SHUT UP!" Both Andy and Rafa fell silent in apparent shock. "I don't want to hear it! It was a stupid argument a month ago and it's an even stupider one now! And if you can't think of anything better to do when for once we've actually got time to spend together than argue over a fucking videogame, then get the fuck out of my room so at least I can take a nap in peace!"
Rafa bit his lip. Novak glanced over at Andy and could actually see the moment when his own lust overcame his irritation reflected in Andy's face. Unfortunately, he could also see Andy's annoyance regaining the upper hand. "Sorry," Rafa said quietly.
"I don't care if you're sorry," Novak said, a little softer. "I care if you're going to stop." Rafa just ducked his head so it was settled more securely in Novak's lap, but Novak decided to take that as acquiescence. "Andy?"
"What," Andy muttered, looking away.
"Are you going to quit arguing about the stupid videogame. Because if you're not, I mean it, just go. I don't want to deal with this right now."
Rafa unexpectedly pushed himself up, out of Novak's lap, and locked eyes with Andy. Novak didn't know what that meant, but after a minute Andy sighed. "Yeah, okay." There was another pause, and then Andy scowled. "So are you going to take your clothes off or what."
"I don't know why nobody beg to suck your dick in locker room shower, you are so sexy like that," Rafa said, rolling his eyes, and slid his hands underneath Novak's shirt. "Is okay?" he asked, when Novak's arms stayed by his sides instead of lifting to let Rafa pull the shirt off. "What is wrong?"
Nole stared at him. "What are you doing?"
Rafa looked blankly back at him. "We gonna fuck you, no? Because you say is better thing to do? And then Andy and me don't argue no more?"
"I meant we could watch the football and make out," Novak managed, before Andy grabbed the back of his shirt and roughly yanked it over his head. "Ow!"
"Sorry," Andy said behind him, not terribly repentant, and kissed the back of his neck. "Do you need to take your contacts out?"
"No, I did it after practice - wait a fucking second, you think who is fucking me? Maybe you could ask me first?"
"Oh, shut up, like you're not going to enjoy it anyway," Andy mumbled. His hands were distractingly warm on Novak's chest, which turned out to be an interesting contrast with the cold air on his legs when Rafa tugged off his pants. None of them was wearing shoes and apparently Rafa didn't care enough to bother with his socks, because he didn't linger near the foot of the bed; instead he crawled back up and pressed a quick kiss to Novak's breastbone before looking up with a bright, challenging grin.
"I bet I can fuck Nole better than you," Rafa said.
Novak felt Andy's hands go still, then press down. "I guess we'll see, huh?"
"Guys? Guys, this isn't…"
"We gotta make up to you for argue all the time, no?" Rafa said. "Don't worry. We gonna take care of you."
"You're a bastard and I hate you," Novak said with great feeling. "Both of you."
"You will like," Rafa said, and that right there, that was the game up - Rafa had made up his mind, and Novak was fucked. Possibly literally.
"Don't worry, okay," Andy muttered into his neck, "I won't let him do anything that would actually fuck with your practice tomorrow," which was a possibility that hadn't even occurred to Novak to worry about and therefore wasn't all that reassuring. Then Andy kissed him behind his ear, which wasn't reassuring either but was pretty distracting.
"Andy, you can go first," Rafa decided. Both Novak and Andy turned to look at him in disbelief - if there had been a list of "phrases Rafa Nadal would never say" floating around somewhere, "you can go first" would have been near the top, along with "I am way better at tennis than Roger Federer" - but Rafa just grinned. "See, I even give you handicap."
"God, you asshole, would you fucking let it go," Andy groaned, but he didn't seem all that interested in pursuing the topic. He pulled Novak even closer, flush against his body, and started kissing Novak's shoulder while he worked his right hand into Novak's underwear. Novak was trying very hard to remain annoyed - the fuck did Rafa and Andy think he was, some sort of extension of their Playstation pissing match - but Andy wasn't playing around and Novak could feel his cock pressing up against his ass, both of which made it a little difficult to focus on anything but the impending prospect of getting laid.
"I'm going to make you feel so good," Andy mumbled. His voice was pretty expressionless even during sex, which had been sort of a mood-killer at first, but now Novak had a weird Pavlovian reaction to Andy's monotone even out of bed. It was kind of embarrassing how much it turned him on, actually, but Novak figured as far as bizarre kinks went that wasn't so bad. At least he wasn't desperately aroused by Andy's teeth or his alarming tendency to get sunburned on cloudy days. "Relax, yeah, you're okay. I'll take care of you. C'mon, let me - I want to suck you so bad, yeah, I haven't in weeks and I missed it, I missed sucking your cock, can I suck you?"
Novak made a noise that could probably have been classified as a moan only less dignified and let his head fall back against Andy's shoulder, which Andy took, more or less correctly, as an invitation to bite the tendons in his neck. When Novak opened his eyes, Rafa had shifted back to the far end of the bed and was sitting there fully clothed, watching them. "You plan to join us sometime soon?" Novak managed to ask.
"No, no," Rafa said. "Is Andy's turn."
"You're such a fucking cunt," Andy said. "Go find the lube if you're not going to be useful."
Rafa sniffed disdainfully, but he slipped off the bed and out of Novak's field of vision, presumably to go rummage around in the bathroom. Andy let go of Novak's dick with one last stroke and climbed around so that they were facing each other, then spent a minute or so arranging Novak's limbs the way he wanted. "You're comfortable, right," he said, clearly more interested in getting Novak's underwear off than actually looking at his face. Novak felt a little objectified.
"You could take off your clothes too, you know. Before you get them dirty or whatever."
"Adidas sends me a million T-shirts," Andy said dismissively, but he yanked the one he was wearing over his head and threw it in the general direction of the television along with Novak's balled-up boxers. From the vantage point where Andy had put him, propped up against the headboard amidst a mountain of pillows, Novak could see Andy's erection tenting his sweatpants rather impressively, but he didn't bother getting rid of them. Instead he stretched out on the bed alongside Novak's legs, his face close enough that Novak could feel his breath on his dick. He heard Rafa start swearing in Spanish in the bathroom doorway, and Andy leaned even closer and almost delicately licked at the head of his cock. Novak's breath hissed out and he grabbed involuntarily at Andy's hair. "If you try to choke me I'm going to bite you," Andy muttered, shifting a little to get a better angle, and then he took Novak's cock in his mouth and started bobbing up and down in earnest.
"Motherfucking - " Novak said. If his dick hadn't been fully interested in the proceedings before, it definitely was now. "Yeah, god, come on," he groaned, his fingers twisting in Andy's hair. He'd completely forgotten that Rafa was even in the room, and he jumped a little when the weight of another body settled on the mattress beside him; Andy lost control and started coughing.
"Shh, shh," Rafa murmured, rubbing his hand up and down the back of Andy's neck. It looked almost soothing, but he was also pushing Andy's mouth inexorably back down on Novak's cock. "Good, Andy, shh," and then he was off in Spanish, rambling on and on about god even knew what, because Novak certainly didn't. Andy seemed to understand it, though, if the choked noises that occasionally escaped were anything to go by. Novak just let the tone of Rafa's voice wash over him as the stream of presumably filthy Spanish went on.
"Andy," Novak managed. "Andy, I'm gonna - "
Andy didn't let up, or possibly Rafa wouldn't let him let up. The orgasm wasn't a surprise, but it still hit Novak hard enough that he lost track of his surroundings for a few moments. When he opened his eyes, Andy was already sitting back up, wiping his mouth with a smug look on his face. "Top that, cabrón," he said.
"Fastest is not best," Rafa retorted. Novak had just enough time to think oh shit before he was pinned under the not-inconsiderable weight of Rafa's body getting the life kissed out of him. He was still trying to get his breath back when he felt Rafa's cold, slippery fingers trailing up the crease of his thigh.
"Hey!" Novak yelped, flinching back. "What the hell are you - " Rafa blinked at him. "Rafa, come on, you're not serious. I just - like five seconds ago! That's going to hurt!"
"You will like," Rafa said. He probably meant it as a promise but it came out sounding more like a threat.
"Rafa," Andy said sharply. "Stop being such a prick. If he doesn't want… I mean, give him a minute, for fuck's sake."
"Sorry," Rafa mumbled, looking at Novak with big remorseful puppy eyes. "I didn't - I gonna be careful, for sure, no?"
Novak sighed and hated himself just a little for never being able to say no to Rafa when he looked like that. "You'd better."
Rafa's face brightened again, and he nuzzled the side of Novak's jaw very gently before he moved back and settled between Novak's thighs. "Gonna be really careful," he repeated, and he was careful not to touch Nole's hyper-sensitive cock as he pushed his legs up towards his chest, which Novak appreciated. He took his time about it, too, running his hands along Novak's calves and pressing kisses to the skin of his inner thighs, which was - well, it wasn't that Rafa was usually bad in bed. He was really enthusiastic and he took direction like you'd expect from a guy who'd been training under Toni Nadal for twenty years. It was just that he was normally kind of impatient.
This time, though, he spent so long working his way up to things that Novak was actually squirming in anticipation before Rafa finally stuck his tongue in him. They didn't do that very often - they never had all that much time, and usually they were in a rush to get to other things. Novak had forgotten (or maybe never realized) how much he liked it.
Andy kissed him for a while, which helped keep the embarrassing whimpering noises to a minimum. Eventually he relocated to get a better view - Novak kind of wanted to tease him about his creepy voyeuristic tendencies, except he couldn't manage to string that many words together coherently - and Novak had nothing left to distract him from Rafa as he methodically and patiently took him apart from the inside out. At some point Rafa's tongue presumably got tired, but he just switched to his fingers and kept going, and when Novak finally came again, a slow-building, paralyzing orgasm that started somewhere in his spine and made most of his extremities curl without a single touch to his over-stimulated prick, he actually blacked out.
His face was turned towards the television when he came to. If he squinted, he could mostly make out what was on the screen; Arsenal had managed to lose the derby 2-3, and Novak had apparently spent an entire ninety-minute football match having sex with Andy and Rafa. "So," Rafa's cheerful voice interrupted his thoughts, "who is better?"
Novak just barely managed to turn his neck in Rafa's direction. He was sitting at the far end of the bed with his arms wrapped around Andy's waist and one hand cupping Andy's cock through his sweatpants, and he was grinning like he knew exactly what he was planning to do with it. "As soon as I can move again, I'm going to kill you," Novak promised.
"Joke!" Rafa laughed. "Is a joke, Nole. Go back to sleep."
"But - what about - " Novak protested, gesturing in a limp-limbed and vaguely obscene way that he hoped would convey his intention of, at some point in the near to distant future, returning the favor.
"Go back to sleep," Andy echoed. He got out of Rafa's grip, crawled up to Novak and ruffled his hair. "I think Rafa and I can take care of each other, yeah?"
Rafa was already bouncing off the bed in the general direction of the bathroom. "Andy!" he said imperiously. "Bring the things, I gonna fuck you in the shower."
"What if I want to fuck you?" Andy demanded, although he did swipe the bottle of personal lubricant off the floor as he followed Rafa.
"Obviously I fuck Nole better than you, so I get to pick."
"What the hell, Rafa, you just said that wasn't - okay, look, I'll rock-paper-scissors you for it, but that's my final offer."
Rafa turned on the shower and Andy shut the bathroom door behind him, cutting off the rest of their argument. Novak decided that so long as he couldn't hear it he didn't actually care, and went back to sleep.