Marat Almighty (2/2)
Title: Marat Almighty
Pairing: Marat Safin/Juan Carlos Ferrero
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and this is a fiction.
Warning: Profanity and blasphemy
Summary: Marat is back to human and he is not happy with God's work.
Author’s note: For anyone who needs the first part, here it is :) Part 1
All seven days had passed and Marat was back to human. God had patted him on the back and had tried his best not to yell or get a heart attack even though the world was quite a mess. As Marat had spent most of his time in bed, the world had been heading towards utter disaster.
Marat shrugged as he sent another ball into the net.
“That’s it. I don’t think we can do this any longer. Let’s try again tomorrow.” His coach let out a long sigh and Marat just nodded.
‘Great. Ex-God gets treated like this.’
He looked down at his tennis bag and thought about just leaving his things there and heading straight for the hotel.
‘Nah, I paid those two thousand dollars yesterday. I can’t afford buying all these stuff again.’
So he started to pack his bag in a very lazy manner when he spotted Juan Carlos stepping on the next court. Feeling his heart jump in pain, he quickly turned around and busied himself retying his shoelaces.
‘There are like thousand practice courts around here. Why!! Why in hell does he have to be on the one right next to mine? Damn you, God!!’
Then, he realized that this was God messing with him.
‘Not funny, God. I thought that such a noble Being like you wouldn’t do anything low like this.’ He thought, tongue-in-cheek, and had to see his favorite Spaniard share laughs with Carlos Moya.
‘Is he with Moya now or is he just practicing with him?’
He kept stealing glances at the two Spaniards while packing his bag and slowly made his way off the court. The light laughter that he knew too well was constantly poking his wounds.
He was so miserable that he couldn’t even focus on walking properly. All he could think about was how softly Juan Carlos’ hair used to dance with the wind, how smoothly his body glided on the court and how lovely his eyes looked up at the sky.
‘God! For once, I didn’t act selfish and I did something for him. And, this is what I get? Do your job properly, you dumb ass! I know you’re hearing this right now!! I can’t deal with this much despair and frustration!! Those words don’t make me feel sexy!!’
He was kicking a small pebble that happened to get in his way when his heart picked up a voice that he would never forget.
“Um… Hi, Marat.”
Marat turned around, stiff as a wooden doll. He couldn’t believe that the beautiful Spaniard had talked to him. He bit his lips and quickly dropped his gaze.
‘Just walk away, Juanqui. Get away from me. I gave you a chance! You don’t want to know me again!’
“Marat? Is it okay if I call you Marat?”
The Russian couldn’t stop his eyes from moving up to the sunlit face. Those were the eyes that made him get confused with the stars. Not able to form a proper sentence, he just nodded, hoping that the conversation would be over as soon as possible.
“Great. I was wondering if I could hit with you sometime tomorrow in the afternoon.”
Marat knew that he had to reject the offer. He knew that even if he had no one to practice with tomorrow, he should still choose to play with the wall.
“I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well, so I won’t be practicing tomorrow.” He was aware that if he lied that he already had someone else as a practice partner, the curiosity inside Juan Carlos would ask for a name.
“Really? I’m sorry to hear that.”
And, all of a sudden, a cool hand was on his burning forehead.
“Oh, you have a fever, Marat. Maybe you should cut today’s practice short and get some rest.”
‘Was he always this talkative? Since when was he so nice to strangers? Did I fail to erase his memories? But he just asked me if he could call me Marat. So he doesn’t really know me, right?’
Marat’s face must have reflected what was going through in his mind because Juan Carlos put an even more worried expression on his face.
“Do you want me to help you get back to the hotel?” He kindly offered.
Those dangerously tempting words enraged the Russian.
‘Don’t do this to me, God! I’m barely hanging on! And, he’s still so damn beautiful!!’
“Marat, are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I can walk back to the hotel by myself, thank you very much!” Marat almost shouted but Juan Carlos didn’t look offended.
“Maybe you should take a cab.”
Feeling pretty much dead already, the Russian just nodded and quickly moved his feet.
Two weeks had passed in complete misery. Marat had seen the love of his life practice, talk and laugh with so many different players. But that wasn’t the worst part of his sorry days. At the moment, he was in a hospital bed, treated for syphilis.
‘Gargh!! This is way too childish even for you, God! No one wants to sleep with me now!!’
He roared and swore that he could hear God laughing at his face.
‘Out of all sorts of diseases, you had to give me syphilis? Syphilis? I’d rather have cancer, god damn it!’
Marat had already thrown everything throwable and had destroyed everything that wasn’t throwable in the white room, so there was nothing left for him to take his anger out on.
‘First, you take away Juanqui. And now, you take away sex? Do you want me to die or what?!’
Marat decided to get out of the room and take a walk in the garden. He stomped out in his ugly hospital gown and pressed the elevator button.
‘This gown is so ugly that I should rather walk around naked. Only if they hadn’t put stinky ointment on my thing. Urgh!’
He saw that the elevator on the right was coming up while the other one was still on the third floor. As he heard an annoying sound that told him that the elevator had arrived, Marat looked up to step inside.
‘What the…? Oh God…’
Juan Carlos was inside the elevator, wide-eyed with his mouth a little open.
‘What is he doing here? On this floor?’ Marat just hoped that the Spaniard would keep looking at his face, and not look down at his gown.
Neither of the two moved and the door closed, only to open again after a few seconds with the sign indicating that the elevator was going down now.
Marat stepped in and realized that Juan Carlos wasn’t getting out.
“I thought this was your floor.”
“Uh… yes, it was. But I just realized that the children’s floor is in another building. Um, I’m here for a charity event.”
“Yeah, no children on my floor.”
Marat pressed the first floor and tried to hide his disappointment.
‘Of course, he’s here for charity. He doesn’t remember me. Why would he want to come and visit me? What did I expect?’
Marat looked at the numbers that were going down painfully slowly and cursed God once more.
‘Do you really have to make this go down this slowly? The other hospitals have got super fast elevators! How many times do I have to tell you? Do your job properly!!’
The Russian was fuming when he heard a familiar laughter.
“You don’t look too happy in that gown.” Juan Carlos giggled, hoping that he didn’t sound too disrespectful.
“It shows?”
Marat let out a dramatic sigh and leaned against the wall when the elevator stopped with a loud thump.
‘What the heck?! I didn’t lean that hard!’
He saw Juan Carlos press the emergency button and then the elevator shook violently, sending both of them to a corner, landing on their butts.
‘God! This isn’t funny! Stop it right now! He’s in here!!’
But the elevator shook again and Marat realized that they were on the ninth floor.
‘Please God, I’m begging you. Have mercy on him and don’t let him die. Please! He’s the one thing that I truly care about! Please…’
Marat closed his eyes and kept praying until he heard that soft laughter again.
“Aww, you’re so cute!”
Marat woke up. He didn’t do cute. Maybe he was already dead. “Huh?”
“Aww, don’t worry. I’m sure it’s nothing. It’s not like the elevator will drop and we’ll die.”
Marat was still confused. “Huh??”
“Marat, there’s no need to cry. Here, I’ll hold you if that makes you feel any better.”
He felt the impossibly warm arms wrap around his shoulders and let out a childish voice. “I’m crying?”
“Well, if these aren’t tears, I don’t know what they are.” Juan Carlos chuckled and carefully wiped them off his cheek.
‘No, Juanqui, don’t do this. Stay away from me! I’m warning you!’
Marat was going mad but he couldn’t move. Those arms were everything that he had been longing for. They fit perfectly around his body.
“I had no idea that such a great champion like you would be frightened of an elevator.”
There was that light chuckle again.
“No, I’m not frightened of anything.” The Russian made himself clear.
“It’s okay. You’re just like a Russian teddy bear. I like teddy bears!”
Now Marat had to be angry. No one should be calling him a teddy bear, not even Juan Carlos.
“Did you hit your head against the wall?” He checked the Spaniard’s head for any kind of bruises.
“Excuse me?” Juan Carlos looked offended.
“Never mind. He’s going to kill me anyway.”
As the elevator threatened their lives again, Marat gathered the love of his life in his arms.
‘You’re the most beautiful thing that God has ever created.’
He spoke in his mind, thankful that Juan Carlos didn’t push him away. He probably felt that he should be nice to such a loser who cried in an elevator wearing the ugliest hospital gown ever.
‘Even if this falls, please let him live, God. He loves playing tennis, so please don’t take it away from him. I know that I won’t be going to Heaven, so maybe this will be the last time that you’ll hear from me.’ Marat held on to the body that he loved and prayed as if he was the next Pope.
The elevator didn’t stop shaking and Marat could feel that Juan Carlos was getting scared by the minute. He wasn’t laughing anymore and he was shivering.
‘You’ll be fine. Don’t worry, my sweet. You’ll be fine. I’m sure he loves you.’
Marat gently caressed the back of his beloved one and hoped for the best.
After a while, the elevator calmed down and a guy in a uniform shouted through a small crack.
“Are you guys all right in there? Don’t worry. We got you!”
Marat blinked his eyes and saw Juan Carlos get out of his arms and get rescued. God did listen to his prayer.
“It’s your turn, sir. Give me your hand. The elevator isn’t stable, so we’d better hurry.”
Marat thought about it. God hated him and his life was miserable. He had made him perfect and now, he was taking everything away. His Juan Carlos would be with some other guy and he would have to see them together until the day that he retired. And even after that, he would have to read and hear about how the former world number one was living happily ever after.
The elevator shook violently while the rescuer tried to widen the crack. Marat wasn’t as slim as Juan Carlos.
“Sir! We don’t have much time! You have to give me your hand!”
The Russian just sat there, all stubborn, not even answering. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to go on with his life without Juan Carlos in the picture.
“Sir!! Please!! Now!!”
Marat shook his head. He was even slightly annoyed at the yell. But when he was just about to give up hope, he saw a sign behind the rescuer.
15th floor: Sky garden
⋮
5th floor: Children only
‘Wait a minute. Didn’t he say that it was in another building?’
Despite all the shouting that the rescue team and Juan Carlos were doing, Marat found a peaceful moment of clarity.
‘Oh my God! He was coming up to visit me!’
He didn’t care that he had erased the Spaniard’s memory or that he wasn’t good enough for him. The mere fact that Juan Carlos had tried to visit him gave him enough motivation to fight for his love.
“Get me out of here!! Now!! I want to get out!! Let me out of here!!”
Marat jumped up and the rescuer had barely pulled him out with all his might when the elevator fell and crashed with a horrible sound.
A couple of days had passed after the accident and despite the high possibility of going straight down to hell for it, Marat had asked the beautiful Spaniard out on a date. He was a little sad that Juan Carlos didn’t seem to remember any of their past, but he figured that it could rather be a blessing for both of them.
Today was the day that he had finished his treatment and he could now walk around the street as a proud man. Obviously, this time, he was going to be very careful with his source of joy and life.
Marat smoothed the collar of his shirt one last time and walked out of the hospital. Juan Carlos was there waving his hand, walking over to him. He waved back as elegantly as he could and noticed that there was a piece of paper right next to his shoes.
I could have restored his memories but chose not to. You got a clean slate to start over with him, but if you hurt him even once, I’m not going to stop at syphilis. I am going to feed it to the sharks.
“Argh!!! Fu…” Marat knew better than to swear now.
“What’s wrong?” Juan Carlos asked with a worried face, tilting his beautiful head.
The Russian crushed the piece of paper in his hand and answered casually.
“You’re too beautiful. That’s what’s wrong.” He couldn’t help himself.
“Oh…”
The Spaniard lowered his glance before looking up with delight in his eyes. “I thought you were the beautiful one. You always look great.”
‘Oh, God, you have to give me a stronger heart! If it pumps this fast when I’m not even touching him, think of what will happen if I lay my hands on those sweet hips and on that sweet…’
Marat suddenly felt dizzy, the last dose of drug clearly not helping him.
“Are you okay?” Juan Carlos was quick to catch the Russian in his arms and Marat felt so damn good.
He flashed a huge grin and switched positions in the blink of an eye. He clearly didn’t care about those two thousand dollars now. He had something highly invaluable in his arms.