tennis slash - give me a break; let me make my own pattern
Title: give me a break; let me make my own pattern
Sequel to: all that it takes is some time but I’m shattered
Author: Kris S.
Fandom: Tennis RPS
Pairing: Marko Djokovic/Ernests Gulbis; implied past Gulbis/Marat Safin
Other Player: Andy Roddick
Rating: R (though maybe closer to NC-17)
Disclaimer: This did not happen.
Summary: Marko has no idea why Ernie has his cell phone number but he’s still the least annoying option.
Author’s Note: Takes place after Marko’s match against Golubev at Dubai. Titles from song by O.A.R.
“Now you’re speaking my language, Djokovic. Settle in.” It thrills Marko maybe a little too much the teasing tone returning to Ernie’s voice.
Even so, he cannot resist throwing in, “Then again, maybe you’re not the one who can help. I hear that you winning matches is a rare event these days.”
“Oh,” but it does produce a light chuckle so it’s apparently not too harsh a blow to Ernie. “I do like feisty kids. Though you will pay for that later on.”
“Would you stop thinking of me as a kid?”
“Sweet virginal body.”
Marko lets out a groan of frustration. “I am not…”
“Let me ask you this. Have you been sexual with anyone who wasn’t involved with you because of wanting to get closer to Novak?”
“How did you… that did not happen!”
“Word of advice: don’t think that Djordje is going to keep something like that a secret. He has a big mouth. Meaning that, as far as I’m concerned, you’re inexperienced and actually have no idea how to even go about being your own man without taking scraps of Nole.”
Marko grumbles in Serbian to give Tomic’s sister Djordje’s phone number, knowing full well Ernie only knows a few words of the language. He takes a deep breath before admitting, “When you phrase it that way, it sounds terrible.”
There must be something in Marko’s tone that has Ernie let up. He says softly, “You did ask for punishment, remember? Trying to create a mood. Don’t cuss me out for it.”
“I get that just… never mind.”
“Okay then. It’s getting pretty warm in my room so let me close the blinds and get more comfortable.”
There’s rustling in the background, likely Ernie fumbling with the phone as he does just that. “How comfortable are you talking?”
“I have my shirt and sneakers off so far. I can see into a few of the rooms so better to be safe before I do something silly like give my next opponent a private show.” Ernie chuckles to himself, then mutters, “I would have considered that if Hasi were over there. Now, do you have a nice view?”
“Not into other people’s rooms. Just a lot of extravagance. Been better keeping the shades shut.”
“Right, you’re in Dubai. Agree with that. What are you wearing?”
“T-shirt and jeans.” When Ernie doesn’t have a response, Marko lowers his voice to add on, “Would you rather less?”
“Nope. Stay dressed and don’t use that sultry tone with me, young man. I don’t appreciate it.” But it’s easy to tell that Ernie isn’t used to being the boss, as amusement is in his voice at the end. “I’m realizing that I’m always the younger one in these situations. Sorry about breaking.”
“Who have you been in these ‘situations’ with?”
“My business, not yours. But there are good names, even a number one and a number two, and no, Novak isn’t who I mean. That never happened.”
Djordje isn’t the only brother with a big mouth. Novak has told him about Ernie’s involvement with Marat. That’s in fact the only player Marko knows for sure. He’ll presume Ernie actually has a history with Tommy Haas because he doesn’t want to think too hard about other possibilities.
Marko is jolted by the sound of something dropping on Ernie’s end and his muttering, “Dammit.” It takes a few moments before Ernie gets back on the line. “Are you lying down on the bed?”
“Yeah.”
“Shut your eyes and leave your arms hanging to your sides. You are defenseless to my actions. Do as I say and do not question me. If there’s something you don’t want, say ‘Viktor’. He’s always been a mood killer for me.”
“Okay.”
“Now, the reason I dropped the phone just before is because I was setting up the hands free attachment. I’m standing at the foot of your bed as I undo my jeans ever so slowly. I admit I feel so much better now that I’m just in my boxers, which your eyes have focused on. You’ve never seen me naked but have wanted for so long.”
“I have,” Marko’s own voice sounding so raspy and unfamiliar.
“I’m watching your eyes on me, so wide and eager and wanting to catch my every move. Your hands are instinctively drifting but I told you not to and you don’t want to disobey me.” Ernie is absolutely right, which is kind of annoying, but Marko returns his arms to his sides. “But you desperately want to do so as your jeans are starting to feel tight. You had been blocking out how turned on my voice had been to you before but now that I’ve brought your attention to your problem, it’s all you can think about. You liked the sexual references I left on your voicemail because it was a break from the monotonous false praise for your play. You sucked so hard out there. That’s okay now because someday you’ll be sucking me so hard instead.”
“Ernie…”
“I haven’t decided whether I’ll ever let you suck me but you do have a pretty mouth. I wouldn’t rule out the possibility at a later date. Today is about suffering and release. I see you writhing, trying for any way to obey while feeling better against your tight jeans. All it accomplishes is getting me hard and trying not to actually react myself but white boxers aren’t the easiest at hiding. I don’t actually want to take them off because I want to rub up on you but your jeans will make that too rough. So instead, I straddle your legs at the end of the bed as my mouth hovers over your aching cock.”
Although it had been warm to begin with, the sweat is trickling down and Marko wishes anything Ernie is saying could be real. “Please.”
“I’m sure your cock jumped as I was so close but I’m working my mouth up instead until my body is now completely on top of yours and I can kiss you properly. You still can’t touch but I don’t have any such restriction. My hand wanders down under the waistband of my boxers to finish myself off. My knuckles end up brushing against your cock. I don’t actually want to touch a loser but I don’t want to move my body either so you’ll just have to deal with it."
Marko chuckles despite himself. "You just had to get that shot in."
"Wasn't this your request?"
“Fair enough. Sorry, sir.”
“Sir?” Ernie laughs rather loudly. Marko stares at the ceiling to wait this out, somewhat perturbed for this interruption. “That is so cute… and a bit disturbing.”
A loud sound on Ernie’s side suddenly kills the Latvian’s mood. There’s some low grumbling, followed by a louder but unclear voice.
Marko looks at his watch then tries to calculate what time it is where Ernie is. If it’s late in the evening here, it’s likely morning there. Outlook for this call continuing not looking good at all.
Finally, it’s as if the phone is no longer being covered and he can make out Ernie saying, “Can you at least give me a few minutes to finish this call?”
The louder voice says, “Tell your morning riser,” those words laced thickly with innuendo, “it will have to be postponed. Having Safin call you…”
“It’s not Safin. It’s Djokovic.”
“Don’t lie to me. I can just look at you and know it’s an ‘urgent’ phone call. This has Safin calling from Russia all over it. Sorry I stopped by but I was going to ask about practice and you’re clearly more interested in finishing off phone sex so don’t bother. I’ll find someone else.”
There’s a loud groan, then the slam of the door. Finally, a soft, “Marko? You there?”
“Yeah.”
“That was Andy Roddick. I don’t know how he knows about Marat because I can’t picture that being in gossip circles. That damn bastard has been having a good laugh at my expense. I need to get this practice in…”
“Go ahead. You have a match to win later. Right, you’re still in the tournament?”
“Actually… yeah,” as if surprised by that fact. “I didn’t mean to leave you like this. Yeah, I was trying to help you but it was doing pretty well for me, too, if I go by Andy’s reaction. You going to be in the States anytime soon?”
“No. Back to Belgrade then a Challenger nearby.”
“In that case, we’re going to have to schedule our phone calls better until clay season begins. I hope you’ll be a bit more relaxed on the court next time you’re in a match,” then hangs up.
Marko stares at the phone as if the phone can tell if he is crazy for pursuing this. He may be as hard as can be - and he’ll fix that problem shortly - but hearing Ernie say he’ll call again does make him feel better.
Sequel to: all that it takes is some time but I’m shattered
Author: Kris S.
Fandom: Tennis RPS
Pairing: Marko Djokovic/Ernests Gulbis; implied past Gulbis/Marat Safin
Other Player: Andy Roddick
Rating: R (though maybe closer to NC-17)
Disclaimer: This did not happen.
Summary: Marko has no idea why Ernie has his cell phone number but he’s still the least annoying option.
Author’s Note: Takes place after Marko’s match against Golubev at Dubai. Titles from song by O.A.R.
“Now you’re speaking my language, Djokovic. Settle in.” It thrills Marko maybe a little too much the teasing tone returning to Ernie’s voice.
Even so, he cannot resist throwing in, “Then again, maybe you’re not the one who can help. I hear that you winning matches is a rare event these days.”
“Oh,” but it does produce a light chuckle so it’s apparently not too harsh a blow to Ernie. “I do like feisty kids. Though you will pay for that later on.”
“Would you stop thinking of me as a kid?”
“Sweet virginal body.”
Marko lets out a groan of frustration. “I am not…”
“Let me ask you this. Have you been sexual with anyone who wasn’t involved with you because of wanting to get closer to Novak?”
“How did you… that did not happen!”
“Word of advice: don’t think that Djordje is going to keep something like that a secret. He has a big mouth. Meaning that, as far as I’m concerned, you’re inexperienced and actually have no idea how to even go about being your own man without taking scraps of Nole.”
Marko grumbles in Serbian to give Tomic’s sister Djordje’s phone number, knowing full well Ernie only knows a few words of the language. He takes a deep breath before admitting, “When you phrase it that way, it sounds terrible.”
There must be something in Marko’s tone that has Ernie let up. He says softly, “You did ask for punishment, remember? Trying to create a mood. Don’t cuss me out for it.”
“I get that just… never mind.”
“Okay then. It’s getting pretty warm in my room so let me close the blinds and get more comfortable.”
There’s rustling in the background, likely Ernie fumbling with the phone as he does just that. “How comfortable are you talking?”
“I have my shirt and sneakers off so far. I can see into a few of the rooms so better to be safe before I do something silly like give my next opponent a private show.” Ernie chuckles to himself, then mutters, “I would have considered that if Hasi were over there. Now, do you have a nice view?”
“Not into other people’s rooms. Just a lot of extravagance. Been better keeping the shades shut.”
“Right, you’re in Dubai. Agree with that. What are you wearing?”
“T-shirt and jeans.” When Ernie doesn’t have a response, Marko lowers his voice to add on, “Would you rather less?”
“Nope. Stay dressed and don’t use that sultry tone with me, young man. I don’t appreciate it.” But it’s easy to tell that Ernie isn’t used to being the boss, as amusement is in his voice at the end. “I’m realizing that I’m always the younger one in these situations. Sorry about breaking.”
“Who have you been in these ‘situations’ with?”
“My business, not yours. But there are good names, even a number one and a number two, and no, Novak isn’t who I mean. That never happened.”
Djordje isn’t the only brother with a big mouth. Novak has told him about Ernie’s involvement with Marat. That’s in fact the only player Marko knows for sure. He’ll presume Ernie actually has a history with Tommy Haas because he doesn’t want to think too hard about other possibilities.
Marko is jolted by the sound of something dropping on Ernie’s end and his muttering, “Dammit.” It takes a few moments before Ernie gets back on the line. “Are you lying down on the bed?”
“Yeah.”
“Shut your eyes and leave your arms hanging to your sides. You are defenseless to my actions. Do as I say and do not question me. If there’s something you don’t want, say ‘Viktor’. He’s always been a mood killer for me.”
“Okay.”
“Now, the reason I dropped the phone just before is because I was setting up the hands free attachment. I’m standing at the foot of your bed as I undo my jeans ever so slowly. I admit I feel so much better now that I’m just in my boxers, which your eyes have focused on. You’ve never seen me naked but have wanted for so long.”
“I have,” Marko’s own voice sounding so raspy and unfamiliar.
“I’m watching your eyes on me, so wide and eager and wanting to catch my every move. Your hands are instinctively drifting but I told you not to and you don’t want to disobey me.” Ernie is absolutely right, which is kind of annoying, but Marko returns his arms to his sides. “But you desperately want to do so as your jeans are starting to feel tight. You had been blocking out how turned on my voice had been to you before but now that I’ve brought your attention to your problem, it’s all you can think about. You liked the sexual references I left on your voicemail because it was a break from the monotonous false praise for your play. You sucked so hard out there. That’s okay now because someday you’ll be sucking me so hard instead.”
“Ernie…”
“I haven’t decided whether I’ll ever let you suck me but you do have a pretty mouth. I wouldn’t rule out the possibility at a later date. Today is about suffering and release. I see you writhing, trying for any way to obey while feeling better against your tight jeans. All it accomplishes is getting me hard and trying not to actually react myself but white boxers aren’t the easiest at hiding. I don’t actually want to take them off because I want to rub up on you but your jeans will make that too rough. So instead, I straddle your legs at the end of the bed as my mouth hovers over your aching cock.”
Although it had been warm to begin with, the sweat is trickling down and Marko wishes anything Ernie is saying could be real. “Please.”
“I’m sure your cock jumped as I was so close but I’m working my mouth up instead until my body is now completely on top of yours and I can kiss you properly. You still can’t touch but I don’t have any such restriction. My hand wanders down under the waistband of my boxers to finish myself off. My knuckles end up brushing against your cock. I don’t actually want to touch a loser but I don’t want to move my body either so you’ll just have to deal with it."
Marko chuckles despite himself. "You just had to get that shot in."
"Wasn't this your request?"
“Fair enough. Sorry, sir.”
“Sir?” Ernie laughs rather loudly. Marko stares at the ceiling to wait this out, somewhat perturbed for this interruption. “That is so cute… and a bit disturbing.”
A loud sound on Ernie’s side suddenly kills the Latvian’s mood. There’s some low grumbling, followed by a louder but unclear voice.
Marko looks at his watch then tries to calculate what time it is where Ernie is. If it’s late in the evening here, it’s likely morning there. Outlook for this call continuing not looking good at all.
Finally, it’s as if the phone is no longer being covered and he can make out Ernie saying, “Can you at least give me a few minutes to finish this call?”
The louder voice says, “Tell your morning riser,” those words laced thickly with innuendo, “it will have to be postponed. Having Safin call you…”
“It’s not Safin. It’s Djokovic.”
“Don’t lie to me. I can just look at you and know it’s an ‘urgent’ phone call. This has Safin calling from Russia all over it. Sorry I stopped by but I was going to ask about practice and you’re clearly more interested in finishing off phone sex so don’t bother. I’ll find someone else.”
There’s a loud groan, then the slam of the door. Finally, a soft, “Marko? You there?”
“Yeah.”
“That was Andy Roddick. I don’t know how he knows about Marat because I can’t picture that being in gossip circles. That damn bastard has been having a good laugh at my expense. I need to get this practice in…”
“Go ahead. You have a match to win later. Right, you’re still in the tournament?”
“Actually… yeah,” as if surprised by that fact. “I didn’t mean to leave you like this. Yeah, I was trying to help you but it was doing pretty well for me, too, if I go by Andy’s reaction. You going to be in the States anytime soon?”
“No. Back to Belgrade then a Challenger nearby.”
“In that case, we’re going to have to schedule our phone calls better until clay season begins. I hope you’ll be a bit more relaxed on the court next time you’re in a match,” then hangs up.
Marko stares at the phone as if the phone can tell if he is crazy for pursuing this. He may be as hard as can be - and he’ll fix that problem shortly - but hearing Ernie say he’ll call again does make him feel better.