tennis slash - This Was Never The Way I Planned
Title: This Was Never The Way I Planned
Author: Kris S.
Fandom: Tennis RPS
Players: Richard Gasquet, Marat Safin, Andy Roddick
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This did not happen.
Summary: Richie returning to the tour, for the heckling and activities with Marat and Andy.
Author’s Notes: Lyrics from Katy Perry. Damn song got stuck in my head combined with this idea.
“How is it possible that the gayest guy on the tour is now considered a ladies’ man?”
Richie slumps down in the lounge chair. The heckling, he was ready for. Hearing that comment from Marat while he’s lying flat on a bed is difficult. Hearing that comment while Andy is standing in front of Richie while unbuttoning his shirt is pure torture.
Marat continues, “I mean, I am the one who draws the ladies. Everyone knows that. You’re all too confusing. Roger can practically make out with a guy on the court in celebration and nobody bats an eyelash. Yet he's the picture of domestic bliss on the tour, so I suppose I shouldn't be shocked.”
Andy shakes his head and turns to Marat, rebuttoning his shirt. “I ask that you don’t bring up Roger tonight. We’re supposed to torture him," pointing behind him, "not me. Got it?”
“Well, if you’re doing that, you’re actually ruining my mood. Putting clothes back on is the opposite of good. Messing with Richie, that’s fine. Messing with me, that’s fucking wrong.”
Andy saunters over to Marat’s position, staring down at him. “We have all night. Patience.” He goes back to unbuttoning his shirt, positioning himself so Richie can’t actually see the results but Marat can. “Now, the question is, which song should I use for a striptease?”
“What about that song you got stuck in my head last year?” As soon as Marat says it, he wishes he didn’t mention it because Andy’s getting ready to sing.
Richie says, “Look, he doesn’t need a song…”
Too late. Andy remembers. “I kissed a girl and I liked it. The taste of her cherry chapstick. I kissed a girl just to try it. I hope my boyfriend don’t mind it. ”
“Not funny,” Richie mutters.
Andy looks over his shoulder. “Maybe not but be prepared to hear it blasting in the locker room for the rest of the season.”
Marat sits up just enough so he can get a hand under Andy’s shirt and pull him closer to the bed. He looks past Andy and gives Richie a mock salute. “Thank you for that one.”
Andy stares down at Marat. “Lay back down.”
“Am I posing for you?”
Andy grins. “Something like that.”
Marat does as told, unbuttoning his shirt at the same time until it splays around him on the bed. He hooks his leg around Andy’s, wanting company on the bed. “Joining me?”
“Not yet.” Andy moves Marat’s leg, throws off the shirt and walks over to Richie. Andy sits on the arm of the comfortable chair, body turned away from Richie. “We haven’t even gotten to the bigger issue here. The cheating. I mean, making out at a club in plain view? Then dodging us for two months?”
Marat laughs. “Oh, you’re one to talk about the virtues of being faithful, Andy. You got married. Vows mean nothing to you.”
“Have I ever hidden that fact from either of you? Or her, for that matter? No. You were in hiding instead of facing us.” His hand moves to Richie’s thigh. “Why is that?”
“I don’t know.” Richie shuts his eyes, trying to resist Andy’s teasing fingers. It’s really been too long since he’s felt anyone’s fingers on him and his body knows it. “Bigger problems to deal with.”
Marat points out. “Actually, that’s not even true. You were gone long before that night. As if going through the motions.”
Andy grins as he watches Richie turn away. “Come on. What’s going on?” He places his other hand on Richie’s cheek to get him to focus.
“Nothing.”
“Why are you here?”
“You threw a sheet over my head and dragged me here.”
“You could have left. It’s not as if I tied you to the chair, although Marat thought I should.”
Marat adds, “I still recommend that.”
Andy refuses to listen to Marat, his concentration still on Richie. “Tell me.”
“You have everything you could possibly want, Andy. You have him. You don’t need me. You didn’t even realize that I was barely around you for three months prior to that night. Well, until Marat told you and led to all of those messages you left while hopelessly drunk.”
“Oh, don’t pull those sad puppy-dog eyes on me. I can’t believe you.” Andy is startled to feel Marat’s hands around his waist. “Cut it out!”
Marat says, “Are we seriously going to keep doing this, Andy? It’s annoying.” He jerks Andy off the arm of the chair, both stumbling backwards. “The door is there for you, Richard.”
Richie points out, “I could have left hours ago, when he was giving me the silent treatment and waiting for you to return so he could show me what I missed in explicit detail.”
Marat whispers in Andy’s ear, “That’s just cruel. You promise him that and haven’t delivered in the hour I’ve been back? For shame in holding out on me. Get over here.”
Richie slowly stands up and approaches the pair. Andy tenses up but Marat tightens his grip, pulling Andy close against his chest.
Marat shakes his head. “I’m not sure which of you is sadder. This one has been a wreck between what Roger does on the court and what you did off the court.” He releases one hand’s grip on Andy, resetting him in place while Andy fidgets, then gestures for Richie to come closer. Marat keeps waving until he’s able to reach out and touch Richie’s shoulder, holding him in place. “While you refuse to speak up until it turns into an international scandal. Bastard.”
Marat’s hand travels up Richie’s neck until his fingers are playing in the curls. It brings Richie in and Marat rests his chin on Andy’s shoulder, challenging stare bearing down.
Richie murmurs, “I shouldn’t have…I wish I…” It’s been too long since he’s dealt with this intensity. Richie suddenly brings Marat close and desperately needs to feel those lips against his own. Marat releases his grip on Andy, too long since he’s had this softer mouth on his. He urges Richie along, feeling how desperately this has been missed.
Andy’s hands run under Richie’s shirt and he manages to wiggle his body out from between the other two, sliding around to Richie’s back. Andy whispers in Richie’s ear, “Don’t ever have me worry again or else I will kill you.”
Author: Kris S.
Fandom: Tennis RPS
Players: Richard Gasquet, Marat Safin, Andy Roddick
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This did not happen.
Summary: Richie returning to the tour, for the heckling and activities with Marat and Andy.
Author’s Notes: Lyrics from Katy Perry. Damn song got stuck in my head combined with this idea.
“How is it possible that the gayest guy on the tour is now considered a ladies’ man?”
Richie slumps down in the lounge chair. The heckling, he was ready for. Hearing that comment from Marat while he’s lying flat on a bed is difficult. Hearing that comment while Andy is standing in front of Richie while unbuttoning his shirt is pure torture.
Marat continues, “I mean, I am the one who draws the ladies. Everyone knows that. You’re all too confusing. Roger can practically make out with a guy on the court in celebration and nobody bats an eyelash. Yet he's the picture of domestic bliss on the tour, so I suppose I shouldn't be shocked.”
Andy shakes his head and turns to Marat, rebuttoning his shirt. “I ask that you don’t bring up Roger tonight. We’re supposed to torture him," pointing behind him, "not me. Got it?”
“Well, if you’re doing that, you’re actually ruining my mood. Putting clothes back on is the opposite of good. Messing with Richie, that’s fine. Messing with me, that’s fucking wrong.”
Andy saunters over to Marat’s position, staring down at him. “We have all night. Patience.” He goes back to unbuttoning his shirt, positioning himself so Richie can’t actually see the results but Marat can. “Now, the question is, which song should I use for a striptease?”
“What about that song you got stuck in my head last year?” As soon as Marat says it, he wishes he didn’t mention it because Andy’s getting ready to sing.
Richie says, “Look, he doesn’t need a song…”
Too late. Andy remembers. “I kissed a girl and I liked it. The taste of her cherry chapstick. I kissed a girl just to try it. I hope my boyfriend don’t mind it. ”
“Not funny,” Richie mutters.
Andy looks over his shoulder. “Maybe not but be prepared to hear it blasting in the locker room for the rest of the season.”
Marat sits up just enough so he can get a hand under Andy’s shirt and pull him closer to the bed. He looks past Andy and gives Richie a mock salute. “Thank you for that one.”
Andy stares down at Marat. “Lay back down.”
“Am I posing for you?”
Andy grins. “Something like that.”
Marat does as told, unbuttoning his shirt at the same time until it splays around him on the bed. He hooks his leg around Andy’s, wanting company on the bed. “Joining me?”
“Not yet.” Andy moves Marat’s leg, throws off the shirt and walks over to Richie. Andy sits on the arm of the comfortable chair, body turned away from Richie. “We haven’t even gotten to the bigger issue here. The cheating. I mean, making out at a club in plain view? Then dodging us for two months?”
Marat laughs. “Oh, you’re one to talk about the virtues of being faithful, Andy. You got married. Vows mean nothing to you.”
“Have I ever hidden that fact from either of you? Or her, for that matter? No. You were in hiding instead of facing us.” His hand moves to Richie’s thigh. “Why is that?”
“I don’t know.” Richie shuts his eyes, trying to resist Andy’s teasing fingers. It’s really been too long since he’s felt anyone’s fingers on him and his body knows it. “Bigger problems to deal with.”
Marat points out. “Actually, that’s not even true. You were gone long before that night. As if going through the motions.”
Andy grins as he watches Richie turn away. “Come on. What’s going on?” He places his other hand on Richie’s cheek to get him to focus.
“Nothing.”
“Why are you here?”
“You threw a sheet over my head and dragged me here.”
“You could have left. It’s not as if I tied you to the chair, although Marat thought I should.”
Marat adds, “I still recommend that.”
Andy refuses to listen to Marat, his concentration still on Richie. “Tell me.”
“You have everything you could possibly want, Andy. You have him. You don’t need me. You didn’t even realize that I was barely around you for three months prior to that night. Well, until Marat told you and led to all of those messages you left while hopelessly drunk.”
“Oh, don’t pull those sad puppy-dog eyes on me. I can’t believe you.” Andy is startled to feel Marat’s hands around his waist. “Cut it out!”
Marat says, “Are we seriously going to keep doing this, Andy? It’s annoying.” He jerks Andy off the arm of the chair, both stumbling backwards. “The door is there for you, Richard.”
Richie points out, “I could have left hours ago, when he was giving me the silent treatment and waiting for you to return so he could show me what I missed in explicit detail.”
Marat whispers in Andy’s ear, “That’s just cruel. You promise him that and haven’t delivered in the hour I’ve been back? For shame in holding out on me. Get over here.”
Richie slowly stands up and approaches the pair. Andy tenses up but Marat tightens his grip, pulling Andy close against his chest.
Marat shakes his head. “I’m not sure which of you is sadder. This one has been a wreck between what Roger does on the court and what you did off the court.” He releases one hand’s grip on Andy, resetting him in place while Andy fidgets, then gestures for Richie to come closer. Marat keeps waving until he’s able to reach out and touch Richie’s shoulder, holding him in place. “While you refuse to speak up until it turns into an international scandal. Bastard.”
Marat’s hand travels up Richie’s neck until his fingers are playing in the curls. It brings Richie in and Marat rests his chin on Andy’s shoulder, challenging stare bearing down.
Richie murmurs, “I shouldn’t have…I wish I…” It’s been too long since he’s dealt with this intensity. Richie suddenly brings Marat close and desperately needs to feel those lips against his own. Marat releases his grip on Andy, too long since he’s had this softer mouth on his. He urges Richie along, feeling how desperately this has been missed.
Andy’s hands run under Richie’s shirt and he manages to wiggle his body out from between the other two, sliding around to Richie’s back. Andy whispers in Richie’s ear, “Don’t ever have me worry again or else I will kill you.”