Title: The Best Looking Guy On Tour
Author: Kris S.
Fandom: Tennis RPS
Pairings: Nikolay Davydenko/Marat Safin; Feliciano Lopez/Fernando Verdasco
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This did not happen.
Summary: Marat takes a silly interview question a little too seriously.
Author's Note: Backstory starts in
Not the Lonely One and three other stories follow, but it’s not necessary to understand what’s going on. For
last_panda and
slyreflection , whose discussion got this rolling.
Who’s the nicest guy on tour?
Nikolay Davydenko: They’re all really nice: Federer, Nadal. All of the guys in the top 100 are cool. But if you asked me which one was the best looking I’d say Feliciano Lopez. Everyone thinks he’s gorgeous, with his blue eyes and curly hair.
Source:
http://www.rolandgarros.com/en_FR/news/articles/2009-05-31/200905311243768804078.html "You cannot be serious!" Marat exclaims as soon as you return after the press conferences and other obligations following beating Verdasco.
"What? No congratulations? No 'I can't believe you made it through the day and Rafa didn't'?"
"Yes, sure, congratulations. Quite nice performance. Now, ahem, I repeat..."
You cut him off, "Fine, I heard you. I still have no idea what you're talking about."
He scowls, wanting to stomp around the hotel room, wanting to rip the piece of paper in his hand that he's clutching as if his life depends on it. If you didn't know better, you'd say he might be jealous. But this is Marat Safin and he doesn't get jealous. Just ask him.
When he doesn't provide any additional help, you say, "Okay, so we're playing a game here. You're not going to tell me what's going on? I have to guess?"
The glare he gives you would probably send lesser people six feet under. You've gotten used to these moods. It’s just stunning he's directing this one your way, something that has never happened before.
"Fine, let me see. Um, you thought that Roddick would be out of town by now so you're preparing for when he loses?"
If the previous look was deadly, the next would make most recipients want to off themselves. "No, not about Andy. He's off with his lovely girl Brooklyn… and his beautiful bride Roger."
You really don't want to know the dynamic going on there but at least Andy isn't involved here because he's got his own problems. "Er, you had Fernando in the brackets because you thought I wouldn't be healthy enough to get this far?"
Marat scoffs at that one. "No, but I have to say that your strategy to combat his firepower is quite interesting and a lovely mindfuck."
"What strategy? Chasing balls down and wait for the mistake because he's going for too much?"
He crumbles the piece of paper and aims for your head. Luckily, it wasn't formed tight enough to get the distance. "Don't play games. I know what you said and just... no, forget it. I'm going to bug Dima. At least he knows how good you have it."
"What are you going on about?" He's stormed past you and is heading for the door. "You want that stalker to believe you're interested?"
"It doesn't really matter any more. Good luck to you," followed by the slam of the door.
You look around the room, still trying to figure out what you could have possibly done to get Marat in this mood. Then you spot the piece of paper he threw at you and begin opening it up.
It's the interview that was on the French Open website. You chuckle as you read through the questions. It isn't until you get to the last question, still smiling, that you wonder if this is what caused the problem. But how can anyone take what you said seriously?
But if Marat thinks you meant what you said about Feliciano...
Then you would have been psyching out Fernando since he was the opponent today...
Oh no.
Marat really would go to Dmitry if he took this seriously.
* * * * *
When you track Dmitry down, you have no idea how to explain what has happened. Although he hates hearing details anyway, he's really getting irritated because he has a match with Kunitsyn against the number 1 seed to deal with. He claims he has no clue what you're talking about. He hasn't seen Marat in days so he'd appreciate being kept out of the drama.
The problem is that Dima and drama go together like peanut butter and chocolate so you know he’s just making noise and really knows nothing.
So you're leaving his room and walking down the corridor when someone calls out your name. You turn around and end up face to face with a very confused Feliciano.
When the Spaniard doesn’t say anything, you start, "You okay?"
"Very weird day."
"Yeah." You have no idea what more to say given you just beat this guy's boyfriend and the boy wonder finally lost in Paris. Then again, he called out for you so there must be something on his mind. "Did you want anything?"
"A strong drink would be nice but I think Nando and Rafa are already well ahead of me with that one. Why does Marat care what you say about me? I mean, I'm honored..."
You cringe, realizing he found out about the quote. Not sure the pretty boy's ego needed to be fed any more regarding his looks. "It was a joke."
"Oh." Feliciano doesn't seem to get why that would be a joke. All he says is, "Does Marat know that?"
"As soon as I find him, he will."
"Si, that's good. Okay then, well, still, gracias.” Feliciano tilts his head to the side and leans against the wall, then asks, “You sure you didn’t…”
You walk away once you realize he’s posing so you’ll give an honest opinion of his looks.
Feliciano walks quickly, grabbing your arm on the way to the elevator. “So Marat is looking for Rafa and Nando so they can get stinking drunk. This is strange territory for Rafa so I don’t know what he’d do. Marat is seriously mad…”
“He has no reason to be.”
“Rational thought will go out the window.” As you wait for the doors to open, Feliciano adds, “Well, even less rational thought than usual. I can’t believe… this is insanity. I knew Marat was mad but in fact you are the crazy one. Seriously, you and him?”
“Yes, seriously.” The doors open and you both rush in, waiting for Feliciano to press a button. “Lead the way.”
* * * * *
When you arrive at the bar, you can hear Marat’s voice immediately even if the words aren’t clear. Fernando is laughing loudly while holding a glass.
Feliciano looks less than thrilled by their closeness. He storms over to the table and barks out, “Where’s Rafa?”
Fernando explains, “Uncle Toni showed up so he’s on the leash tonight.”
Marat leans into Fernando, the two merry and drunk, yelling, “Number one can’t even get a night off.” When he sees you approach the table, he calls out, “Well, I am so glad you found your new hot catch.”
You stare up at the ceiling, waiting for it to open up. “I cannot believe this,” then you slide into the booth.
Feliciano shakes his head then yanks on Fernando’s free hand and the other drunk stumbles to his feet. Fernando glares at his friend, “What are you doing?”
“What are you doing?” The rest of the conversation occurs in rapid fire Spanish and you are completely mesmerized by how animated they are. The next thing you can decipher is Feliciano saying, “You’ll be okay, amor. We can go home tomorrow and not come out of the house for five days. I’ll make you forget this week…” They get further away from us but are closer to each other until Fernando is leaning on Feliciano and breathing in his ear as the door closes.
Marat grumbles, “The fun just went out the door. Thank you for that.”
“That interview was done while I was still asleep! It had nothing to do with the next opponent.”
“The question was the nicest guy. How do you get that question twisted to answer that Feli is the most gorgeous?”
“Everyone knows that’s true. Especially him. Those questions can bore anyone. Why do you care?”
Marat is really not hearing you at this point. “Seriously, you think some guy who is permanent attached to a flat iron and the mirror is worth looking at?”
“Marat…”
“I mean, is it the accent? The overuse of product? Constant obsession with labels?”
You smile widely as you watch Marat rile himself up further. He simply can’t admit the problem and you don’t want to laugh. But soon enough he catches on and stops ranting. He throws his hands up in the air and says, “You think this is funny?”
“Ask the question.”
“What question?”
“The one that has been eating you alive all day?”
“Fine. Who is the nicest guy on the tour?”
You roll your eyes. “Not that one.”
“Right. Who is the best looking on the tour?”
“The jealous guy I’m sitting with right now with the shifty eyes and curly hair. But everyone knows that’s the real answer.”
one more fic:
Unfinished Business