Enjoying everything Novak
Title: Enjoying everything Novak
Paring: Ernests Gulbis/Novak Djokovic
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 2,371
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and this is a fiction.
Summary: Ernests gets to enjoy everything Novak has to offer.
Author’s note: Inspired by Ernests getting a wild card into Serbia Open :) Also, I would like to tell you that not every single detail in this story is made up. The fact that Nole owns a spa facility, that Ernie’s mom found the Pilic academy on Google, that Ernie plays the guitar, and that Marat is the promoter of Serbia Open are solid facts.
“Mmmhmm…Hmm…”
Ernests was humming a tune as he stepped into the shower. Thinking about the lunch earlier with Novak at Café Novak had put him in a good mood.
‘Oh how nice it was. The food, the atmosphere, the trophy room, and the company... especially the company.’
He grabbed the shampoo and smiled when he recognized the high-end brand. It was nice to see that some people knew how to choose the right shampoo. Hair was serious business; the most important part of a person’s image as far as he was concerned. He was currently at Spa Novak; one of the many facilities that his childhood friend owned in the city of Belgrade. The service had been impeccable and he was told to wash off some extra oil so that he could wear his clothes without any discomfort.
“Lululu…”
Ernests closed his eyes and started to massage his scalp with the silky shampoo. He had been good friends with the Serb since they had trained together at the Germany-based Pilic Academy at the age of thirteen. Even though they had drifted apart after Novak had left the academy, their friendship had been rekindled ever since Ernests got inside the top 60.
‘Thank god mom found that academy on Google!’
The Latvian made a mental note to get her a nice souvenir, and wondered if the intense stares that Novak had given him at lunch had meant anything or if it was all inside his head. The world number two had also showed him around his trophy room, which was at the back of the restaurant, and had even let him hold up the Australian Open trophy.
‘How sweet was that? But him keeping that picture from years ago was even sweeter.’
The two youngsters had once gone to an amusement park with other students of the academy. The coaches had taken plenty of pictures but Ernests had never been good at keeping his room organized. So when Novak had handed over a picture of the two of them after dessert, he wasn’t really surprised. After all, Novak was the one who had kept their dormitory room clean. The Serb had told him that he had the picture scanned on his laptop, so Ernests had thanked him and had gladly put it in his wallet.
“Tarararara…”
As he rinsed his hair and hummed in a higher tone, the twenty-two year old’s mind wandered off to the moments when his hand had brushed against Novak’s. When the Serb passed him the salt, when he offered Novak some of his ice cream, and when the two had headed towards the trophy room, the back of their hands had constantly made contact. Come to think of it, he now remembered that Novak had even pulled out his chair for him.
‘Was it something like a date? But we’re friends!’
Ernests clearly remembered how he had feelings for Novak when they were kids, and even now he did have a much softer spot for him than for any other friend, but he had no idea if the Serb was on the same page. He wasn’t even sure if he himself wanted something more than a friendship. The thought of going out with Novak sounded like fun, but since they had been friends for such a long time, he was worried that it could turn out very awkward.
‘Oh well, I can think about it once I get back to the hotel. Let’s finish up here.’
Just when he ruffled his hair under the hot spray for one last time, the Latvian heard the door open and saw a spiky head walk into the shower room.
“Nole? Is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry, I just wanted to leave you some extra towels. You’re a big boy and I thought you might still use two towels for your curls.”
Ernests couldn’t help but smile. He couldn’t believe that Novak still remembered that particular detail from when they had shared a room.
“Uh, since you’re here, Nole, would you mind soaping my back for me?”
Ernests had no idea where that question came from. The masseuse had specifically ordered him to take a shower with water only so that the organic oil would stay on his skin for the rest of the day. Besides, didn’t he just decide that he would ponder on the Novak matter after the shower?
“No problem.” Novak answered with a faint smile.
It was definitely a problem, but he didn’t want to upset his friend. When they were kids, they had always soaped each other’s back, giggling when one of them had started to tickle the other. But they were adults now. Things were different and Novak wasn’t sure for how long he would be able to resist the temptation of pushing the curly head against the wall and exploring his wet skin.
“So? You’ll give me a hand?”
Ernests knew that he had to go through this nervous activity now. It was too late to back off. He had already asked for help and Novak might be offended if he said that he didn’t need help after all. Novak loved to feel useful, perhaps a little bit more than others. Everything had been so amazing since he had landed, and he didn’t want to mess things up just because he couldn’t handle someone (who probably had magical fingers) soaping his back.
“I’ll be in there in a minute.”
Novak replied as he kicked off his shoes and started to get rid of his clothes. He could tell that Ernests was watching him out of the corner of his eyes, so he sped up his actions, trying hard not to look nervous or excited.
When the briefs went down, Ernests felt himself tighten up. He had peeped at the tanned body in locker rooms out of curiosity, but this was different. He was in a place that Novak owned and even if it was his first time here, he felt cozy, safe and loved. And now that a naked Novak had joined him in the room, he had to add ‘incredibly turned on’ to the list.
‘This is ridiculous. I know it’s been a while but seriously… Let’s not make a fool of myself.’
As he saw the Serb wrap a towel around his waist, Ernests quickly closed his eyes and turned around.
‘It’ll be all right. He won’t notice it. He’ll just soap my back for a few seconds and leave. Then I’ll have the shower all to myself. It’ll be fine.’
Just when Ernests finished putting a spell on himself, the door to the stall opened and Novak walked in.
“Hand me the soap, will you?”
Novak hoped that his voice had sounded casual. He really didn’t want to make Ernests uncomfortable. He could feel the tension, but he was too nervous to tell if any of it was sexual. Even if it was, he didn’t know if Ernests wanted him to make a move. Besides, he had planned to ask Ernests out under different circumstances which did not involve a steamy shower stall. Perhaps the tension was just a natural phenomenon that occurred between two naked people, and if he was lucky -or unlucky, he couldn’t decide- it would pass in mere seconds.
“Here. Thanks.”
The Latvian handed over the soap, trying hard not to turn around and kiss the life out of his friend. Suddenly he couldn’t stop thinking about the man behind him. Whatever his brain had told him earlier, there was now no point denying that he was attracted to the Serb.
“Mmm…”
An involuntary groan left Ernests’ mouth as Novak took his time rubbing the lovely back with a soapy hand. His hand may have been rubbing Ernests’ back, but his eyes were fixed a little bit lower, taking in the marvelous sight of the younger player’s backsides.
‘For how long does a person’s back need to be soaped?’
Novak found himself suddenly clueless about such a simple matter in life. His head told him that it was time to leave before he embarrassed himself -there was only so much a wet towel could cover- but his heart told him that he could still use another minute to study the pretty butt.
‘Oh my, why is he taking so long?’
Ernests was trying not to pay too much attention on the warm hand that been rubbing his back for at least three minutes. Of course he could always thank Novak for his effort and move on with his shower, but his mouth didn’t want to cooperate with his brain and kept on puffing out short breaths filled with lust and hunger.
‘If he wasn’t such a great friend, I would’ve gambled and gone for a kiss.’ Ernests groaned inside.
‘Perhaps I should drop the plan and go for a kiss. A very intoxicating, mind-blowing kiss.’ Novak pondered.
‘Oh, to hell with friendship! I’ll count down from three and turn around!’ Ernests couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted that hot hand to do much, much more than just soaping his back.
‘Oh, screw the fancy plan. I’ve been patient enough!’ Novak was losing his mind.
‘In three!’ Ernests started the countdown.
‘Two!’
‘One!’
He turned around just in time to catch Novak drop his towel.
Gulp.
His eyes shot down immediately. There was nothing that could have possibly stopped them.
Encouraged by Ernests’ reaction, Novak dropped the soap and pulled the object of his passion into a fiery kiss before it even hit the floor.
Two hours later, Ernests looked relaxed and happy, down to his birthday suit in Novak’s bed.
“Ah, I would’ve come sooner if I knew you were offering yourself to the players.” He regretted as he enjoyed the feeling of Novak caressing his curls.
“Ahaha, that’s Marat’s job.” Novak answered, placing a small kiss on the cute forehead.
“It is? That’s great! I’m happy for him.” Ernests couldn’t think of a better job for the Russian.
“When I first offered him the position of the tournament promoter last year, I obviously didn’t mean it that way. But he insisted that it was the right way to promote a new tournament. He pointed out that we have to compete with great tournaments like Estoril and Munich.”
“Does your uncle know about this?” Ernests was curious.
“Of course not! He probably thinks Marat just visits the players’ hotel rooms with fruit baskets.”
Ernests chuckled. Marat may have delighted the players with a fruit basket but it wouldn’t have been in a way that Novak’s uncle had imagined.
“Oh, I have a little gift for you. Consider it my welcome present.” Novak left the bed to fetch it from the closet.
“I thought that steamy kiss was the welcome present.” Ernests giggled at his own clever pun.
“Well, that kiss or all the other things that followed weren’t exactly planned.” Novak laughed.
Ernests sat up on the bed as Novak came back with a guitar case.
“That’s a guitar!” He yelled in excitement. He had been thinking of getting a new one just last week.
“How did you even know I knew how to play the guitar?”
“I have my sources.” Novak thanked Viktor in his mind for finding out about it while playing doubles with Ernests. His friend had been very dedicated to the task.
Novak watched the Latvian open the case with a broad smile on his face. He seemed genuinely happy about the gift, humming while he tuned the guitar. Novak was glad and relieved that he had chosen the right gift. He had missed all the days that they had spent together as youngsters. They no longer shared a room anymore and had different friends on tour. But ever since they had practiced together for a full week in Zurich last fall, their dynamics had been slowly changing. By the time that he had won the first slam of the year, he realized that he wanted to be more than just friends.
“You know, Ernie…”
“Hmm?”
Ernests was mesmerized at his new instrument. He wasn’t sure if he could take such a nice gift when he had nothing to give in return, but now that he had set his eyes on the beautiful thing, there was no way he would give it back.
“I was wondering if you could play a couple of songs for me.”
“Oh, sure. Let me just throw on some clothes. Luckily, I know some tunes by heart.”
Ernests got up from the bed, searching for his boxers. This was his chance to show Novak his appreciation for the gift.
“Well, I was wondering if you could wear nothing but a pick before I take you out to dinner.”
“A pick? You mean the guitar pick you hold between your fingers?”
Ernests wanted to point out that a pick was not something you wore. But when Novak nodded and started walking towards him, it occurred to him that objecting might not be necessary. If the bed sheets were any indication, he was way past the stage of being shy.
“Nrgh…”
He had meant to say ‘sure’, but it didn’t sound anything like it. Novak’s lips had come crushing on his own, making it impossible to form proper words.
‘Oh, to hell with words…’
Ernests wrapped his arms around Novak’s neck and closed his eyes. The tournament hadn’t started yet, so he was going to stay around for at least a few more days, which meant that he would have plenty of time to play the guitar for his new boyfriend and no words would be needed.