fic: fina como la seda
Title: Fina Como La Seda
Pairing: Roger Federer/Feliciano Lopez
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: Fiction
follows me encanta
They don't hang around the same group of people. Sure, Roger likes and talks to David, Rafa and Nando quite often, as well as the other Spaniards, and Feliciano doesn't mind chatting with Stan or Marat from time to time but as a collective group, Roger and Feliciano are rarely seen together. Especially at tournaments, making time to spend with each other (aside from fucking) is difficult when you're trying to keep discreet as possible. So it's less than surprising that they only get to see each other once before Wimbledon starts. Roger greets Feliciano with a smile and hug, playing it neutral as Feliciano leans into the embrace and places an almost innocent peck on each cheek.
When Feliciano pulls away, there's a smirk on his pretty pink lips that confuses Roger. It's not until he gets to his room and begins to remove his clothing does Roger finally understand. Coming in contact with something in his jacket pocket, Roger removes a neatly folded gold silk Italian tie. Flushing profusely, Roger has a feeling that this year's Wimbledon is going to be different on so many levels.
{*}
When the elevator’s door open up, Roger steps out, his chest beating a little quicker. He has never done anything like this before, never had to. Sex with Feliciano is never less than spectacular. But the possibilities the silk tie presents sends shivers down Roger’s spine. He checks his watch when he arrives to Feliciano’s door. Eleven o’clock, on time as usual.
Roger knocks lightly three times before stepping back just a little. He fingers the tie that rests in his pocket, nerves attacking at full force. Thoughts of pushing Feliciano too far, of hurting him, of not being what Feliciano needs plague Roger’s mind but then the door is pulled open, revealing a relaxed looking Feliciano, shirtless and utterly radiant.
With a smile, Feliciano pulls Roger into an embrace, kissing his cheeks lightly. “Roger. Good to see you again.” The sound of his voice, the sight of his smile, eases Roger’s nerve to where he returns the kisses. He follows Feliciano inside as silence suddenly descends on them.
Leading the way, Feliciano takes a seat on the edge of the bed and pats the space next to him, chuckling at Roger’s evident nervousness.
“Why you nervous, Roger? We no have sex before?”
Roger gives him a look before sitting down next to him. He lets his eyes roam over Feliciano, taking in sight of slightly wet curls that wrap around the strong neck, his bare and tanned torso, the pink of his nipples, and lets his lust settle within his body. Eyes wander over to pink lips, a mouth he has traced every inch of. Suddenly, it hits him. This is Feliciano. Feli. He is the one that initiated whatever may take place tonight.
He leans back, a cool smile sliding onto his face. “Not what you were saying last time.” Teasing, now this is something he is used to.
“Oh?” Feliciano questions, trying his best not to quirk a smile. He slides over, cutting off the space between their bodies. “What I say?” He brings his lips down onto Roger’s, his tongue pressing and teasing the way he knows the man likes best.
Hands come up and wrap around hard but pliant bodies. Roger can feel his arousal awakening, his want for Feliciano growing steadfastly. He pulls Feliciano in even closer with a tug to his waist. Leaning back slightly, their lips still touching, Roger smiles as he whispers, “Something like ‘Fuck me, Roger. Fuck me so hard I’ll feel it for days.’ “
Feliciano pulls away, laughing at Roger’s words. “I no say that. No lying.” He lies down but turns his head to face the Swiss. The air around them is warm and familiar, exactly how he wants it. When he originally put the tie in Roger’s pocket, Feliciano wanted nothing but pure relaxed fun. Roger’s initial nervousness had his confidence waver just a tad. However, with this easy flowing banter, Feliciano knows they’ll be alright.
“No? That’s not right? Why don’t you tell me what you said then?” Roger takes his place next to him, facing the ceiling, their biceps touching lightly. He’s busy admiring the paint job when there’s a shift and a heavy weight settles onto his stomach, the material of his sweatpants tickling his skin. Feliciano’s coy smile floats above him. This may prove to be dangerous and something Roger may come to regret. But then again, no risk no return.
“You say,” Feliciano whispers as he leans down, his lips ghosting over Roger’s, “you tie me up next time and fuck me hard. This is next time, no?” His tongue pokes out and barely touches Roger’s lips before retreating. It’s a tease but it’s enough to have the desired effect.
Roger bucks the Spaniard, the moment of surprise enough to switch their positions. Their mouths clash together, teeth clicking and it’s messy. Tongues push at one another, fighting for control neither wants to give up.
Remembering the tie in his pocket, Roger lets up on Feliciano’s mouth only to slide his lips down to his neck as he fishes for the silk cloth. He curls his fingers around it and tugs. With a nip to Feliciano’s bottom lip, Roger pulls away, his hair a complete mess, his lips red and bruised.
“You want this?” Roger asks as he stretches the silk material between his hands. Feliciano simply nods, his eyes wide in anticipation. After all this is what he wants, what they both want. “Hands up,” and he is not disappointed when Feliciano complies eagerly.
After securing the Spaniard’s wrists to the headboard, Roger rocks back on his heels to observe the restrained body beneath him. Feliciano’s bare chest heaves with every breath he takes, his eyes smouldering with lust. Roger places his palms flat against Feliciano’s chest, his thumbs teasing his nipples before moving them oh-so slowly downward. The body under his touch quivers but remains silent. But Roger doesn’t want that; he wants, needs Feliciano to be an incoherent babbling mess and he’s willing to do anything for it.
Smirking, Roger moves his hands to the waistband of the grey sweats the Spaniard adorned. He doesn’t have to utter a word for Feliciano to raise his hips and allow him to peel away the material. The headboard rattles slightly when cold air hits Feliciano’s warm comfortable cock, his arms jerking in surprise. Seconds later, warm and wet heat surrounds his cock and he bites his lip.
“Joder!”
When Roger teasingly pulls away, eyes locked and mocking on his, Feliciano wishes his hand were free so he could push his cock further into the beautiful mouth. But he can’t and the realization has him moaning.
“Roger... Joder!”
Roger takes him into his mouth again, this time enveloping him from tip to root completely, his lips widening in a smirk around Feliciano’s cock. After only three strokes however, Roger pulls away and moves down. He nips and licks at the Spaniard’s flesh, just below his balls and then moves on to mouth his tense thigh. A string of Spanish flows from above but Roger pays no attention to it. His tongue exercises its expertise as he moves toward the juncture of his knee. Feliciano keens and arches his back, only causing Roger to pin his hips down with his hands.
“R-Roger. Something. Anything. Please!”
Suddenly Roger falls away as he gets up and off the bed. Feliciano opens his mouth to ask him what the fuck he thinks he’s doing when the sight of the Swiss undressing renders him speechless. He knows the effect his body has on others but fuck, Roger’s is just as good, if not better.
Ever so slowly, Roger pulls his shirt over his head before bringing his fingers to lower the zipper on his pants. With a smirk, he turns around and slowly pushes his pants off his hips and down his thighs. The sight of Roger’s backside and legs has Feliciano breathing a little harder, his muscles insanely taut. Stepping out, Roger turns around once again, his lips still curled in a smirk as he walks over to Feliciano’s bag.
“I have... Here. I took out already,” Feliciano chokes out. “Under pillow.”
Roger chuckles as he swiftly makes his way back to the beautifully tied up man, kissing him soundly as he settles his weight on top. Once the lube is in his hand, Roger pours a liberal amount onto his fingers before tossing the tube to the side.
Shuffling backward, Roger settles comfortably between Feliciano’s spread legs. He brings his mouth to the tip of Feliciano’s cock and his fingers to his entrance. His eyes flicker with a look of lust and something else (something more than just carnal desire that Feliciano cannot name) before Feliciano swears out in Spanish.
One finger pushes in, gentle, teasing even (a deceiving touch for what is to come) as the head of Feliciano’s cock is lavished in licks. Roger’s eyes smoulder as the moans above him grow louder. He knows he’s begging though he doesn’t under Spanish at all. He just knows.
When Roger’s lips stay light on his cock stroke and stroke, Feliciano curses himself and his stupid plan. Who the fuck would want to be tied up, have their hands completely useless, when Roger’s godsend of a mouth works over their cock like it is now? Needing more, Feliciano tries to lift his hips in order to get more heat of Roger’s mouth. The Swiss however is having none of that.
“Stop it, Feli,” Roger growls as he pulls off, his lips wet, shiny and simply sinful. The finger in Feliciano’s ass becomes two, still nothing more than a tease and the Spaniard bucks again. Not like having his orders disobeyed, Roger uses his free hand and pins Feliciano’s hips roughly to the mattress. “Do you want me to stop this right now, Feli? Because I can and will.”
Feliciano’s body stills completely, his wrists no longer tugging against the silk material, his hips immobile under Roger’s grip. He shakes head with a slight curl on his lips. He’ll obey... for now.
Once knowing Feliciano will comply, Roger wraps his lips around him once again, his fingers still moving leisurely. There’s a slight twitch of the Spaniard’s hips but Roger ignores it, giving him the benefit of doubt. He lowers his mouth all the way to the base before repeating the motion four times. With licks to the head, Roger’s lips kiss their way back up Feliciano’s thrumming body; every silent plea is loud with the way his muscles his tremble. Roger thinks maybe, just maybe, Feliciano is ready for more.
Wrapping his lube covered hand around his own cock, Roger lines up, his lips now attached to his collarbone, and pushes in swiftly. His hands cover bound ones, the strip of silk heaven on his skin, like Feliciano’s heat around his cock.
The slow easy pace of his fingers early was no indication how Roger is fucking Feliciano now. He thrusts in hard, loving the way the muscles around his cock barely comply to stretch.
Feliciano nudges him with his chin and seconds later, their lips mimicking their fucking. It’s messy and dirty and both men can’t help but moan against each other’s mouths. Roger feels the Spaniard’s fingers curl against his, doing his best to try to entwine them together despite being restrained.
“Harder,” Feliciano whispers. He has nowhere to go when Roger complies brutally, his cock now hitting his prostate with every thrust. Whines die in his throat and moments later he comes against Roger’s stomach, his muscles clenching impossibly tight around his cock. Roger’s fingernails dig into the skin of his wrists as his climax follows.
Pulling at Feliciano’s bottom lip with his teeth, Roger moves to the side but doesn’t pull out. One hand stays where it is while the other trails down Feliciano’s sweaty body, fingers swirling with the come that pools there.
“Didn’t know you could do that.”
“Me too,” Feliciano replies with a laugh, revelling in the feel of Roger’s soft touch against his skin, calming his body down.
When Roger has no choice but to slip out of him, they remain together on the bed, their bodies still tucked together. They breathe in tandem, in and out. It’s peaceful calm and silent, how it should be until Feliciano interrupts.
“Roger? Untie me?”
Roger looks up under sleepy but lust-filled eyes. “Who said we’re finished?”
Pairing: Roger Federer/Feliciano Lopez
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: Fiction
follows me encanta
They don't hang around the same group of people. Sure, Roger likes and talks to David, Rafa and Nando quite often, as well as the other Spaniards, and Feliciano doesn't mind chatting with Stan or Marat from time to time but as a collective group, Roger and Feliciano are rarely seen together. Especially at tournaments, making time to spend with each other (aside from fucking) is difficult when you're trying to keep discreet as possible. So it's less than surprising that they only get to see each other once before Wimbledon starts. Roger greets Feliciano with a smile and hug, playing it neutral as Feliciano leans into the embrace and places an almost innocent peck on each cheek.
When Feliciano pulls away, there's a smirk on his pretty pink lips that confuses Roger. It's not until he gets to his room and begins to remove his clothing does Roger finally understand. Coming in contact with something in his jacket pocket, Roger removes a neatly folded gold silk Italian tie. Flushing profusely, Roger has a feeling that this year's Wimbledon is going to be different on so many levels.
{*}
When the elevator’s door open up, Roger steps out, his chest beating a little quicker. He has never done anything like this before, never had to. Sex with Feliciano is never less than spectacular. But the possibilities the silk tie presents sends shivers down Roger’s spine. He checks his watch when he arrives to Feliciano’s door. Eleven o’clock, on time as usual.
Roger knocks lightly three times before stepping back just a little. He fingers the tie that rests in his pocket, nerves attacking at full force. Thoughts of pushing Feliciano too far, of hurting him, of not being what Feliciano needs plague Roger’s mind but then the door is pulled open, revealing a relaxed looking Feliciano, shirtless and utterly radiant.
With a smile, Feliciano pulls Roger into an embrace, kissing his cheeks lightly. “Roger. Good to see you again.” The sound of his voice, the sight of his smile, eases Roger’s nerve to where he returns the kisses. He follows Feliciano inside as silence suddenly descends on them.
Leading the way, Feliciano takes a seat on the edge of the bed and pats the space next to him, chuckling at Roger’s evident nervousness.
“Why you nervous, Roger? We no have sex before?”
Roger gives him a look before sitting down next to him. He lets his eyes roam over Feliciano, taking in sight of slightly wet curls that wrap around the strong neck, his bare and tanned torso, the pink of his nipples, and lets his lust settle within his body. Eyes wander over to pink lips, a mouth he has traced every inch of. Suddenly, it hits him. This is Feliciano. Feli. He is the one that initiated whatever may take place tonight.
He leans back, a cool smile sliding onto his face. “Not what you were saying last time.” Teasing, now this is something he is used to.
“Oh?” Feliciano questions, trying his best not to quirk a smile. He slides over, cutting off the space between their bodies. “What I say?” He brings his lips down onto Roger’s, his tongue pressing and teasing the way he knows the man likes best.
Hands come up and wrap around hard but pliant bodies. Roger can feel his arousal awakening, his want for Feliciano growing steadfastly. He pulls Feliciano in even closer with a tug to his waist. Leaning back slightly, their lips still touching, Roger smiles as he whispers, “Something like ‘Fuck me, Roger. Fuck me so hard I’ll feel it for days.’ “
Feliciano pulls away, laughing at Roger’s words. “I no say that. No lying.” He lies down but turns his head to face the Swiss. The air around them is warm and familiar, exactly how he wants it. When he originally put the tie in Roger’s pocket, Feliciano wanted nothing but pure relaxed fun. Roger’s initial nervousness had his confidence waver just a tad. However, with this easy flowing banter, Feliciano knows they’ll be alright.
“No? That’s not right? Why don’t you tell me what you said then?” Roger takes his place next to him, facing the ceiling, their biceps touching lightly. He’s busy admiring the paint job when there’s a shift and a heavy weight settles onto his stomach, the material of his sweatpants tickling his skin. Feliciano’s coy smile floats above him. This may prove to be dangerous and something Roger may come to regret. But then again, no risk no return.
“You say,” Feliciano whispers as he leans down, his lips ghosting over Roger’s, “you tie me up next time and fuck me hard. This is next time, no?” His tongue pokes out and barely touches Roger’s lips before retreating. It’s a tease but it’s enough to have the desired effect.
Roger bucks the Spaniard, the moment of surprise enough to switch their positions. Their mouths clash together, teeth clicking and it’s messy. Tongues push at one another, fighting for control neither wants to give up.
Remembering the tie in his pocket, Roger lets up on Feliciano’s mouth only to slide his lips down to his neck as he fishes for the silk cloth. He curls his fingers around it and tugs. With a nip to Feliciano’s bottom lip, Roger pulls away, his hair a complete mess, his lips red and bruised.
“You want this?” Roger asks as he stretches the silk material between his hands. Feliciano simply nods, his eyes wide in anticipation. After all this is what he wants, what they both want. “Hands up,” and he is not disappointed when Feliciano complies eagerly.
After securing the Spaniard’s wrists to the headboard, Roger rocks back on his heels to observe the restrained body beneath him. Feliciano’s bare chest heaves with every breath he takes, his eyes smouldering with lust. Roger places his palms flat against Feliciano’s chest, his thumbs teasing his nipples before moving them oh-so slowly downward. The body under his touch quivers but remains silent. But Roger doesn’t want that; he wants, needs Feliciano to be an incoherent babbling mess and he’s willing to do anything for it.
Smirking, Roger moves his hands to the waistband of the grey sweats the Spaniard adorned. He doesn’t have to utter a word for Feliciano to raise his hips and allow him to peel away the material. The headboard rattles slightly when cold air hits Feliciano’s warm comfortable cock, his arms jerking in surprise. Seconds later, warm and wet heat surrounds his cock and he bites his lip.
“Joder!”
When Roger teasingly pulls away, eyes locked and mocking on his, Feliciano wishes his hand were free so he could push his cock further into the beautiful mouth. But he can’t and the realization has him moaning.
“Roger... Joder!”
Roger takes him into his mouth again, this time enveloping him from tip to root completely, his lips widening in a smirk around Feliciano’s cock. After only three strokes however, Roger pulls away and moves down. He nips and licks at the Spaniard’s flesh, just below his balls and then moves on to mouth his tense thigh. A string of Spanish flows from above but Roger pays no attention to it. His tongue exercises its expertise as he moves toward the juncture of his knee. Feliciano keens and arches his back, only causing Roger to pin his hips down with his hands.
“R-Roger. Something. Anything. Please!”
Suddenly Roger falls away as he gets up and off the bed. Feliciano opens his mouth to ask him what the fuck he thinks he’s doing when the sight of the Swiss undressing renders him speechless. He knows the effect his body has on others but fuck, Roger’s is just as good, if not better.
Ever so slowly, Roger pulls his shirt over his head before bringing his fingers to lower the zipper on his pants. With a smirk, he turns around and slowly pushes his pants off his hips and down his thighs. The sight of Roger’s backside and legs has Feliciano breathing a little harder, his muscles insanely taut. Stepping out, Roger turns around once again, his lips still curled in a smirk as he walks over to Feliciano’s bag.
“I have... Here. I took out already,” Feliciano chokes out. “Under pillow.”
Roger chuckles as he swiftly makes his way back to the beautifully tied up man, kissing him soundly as he settles his weight on top. Once the lube is in his hand, Roger pours a liberal amount onto his fingers before tossing the tube to the side.
Shuffling backward, Roger settles comfortably between Feliciano’s spread legs. He brings his mouth to the tip of Feliciano’s cock and his fingers to his entrance. His eyes flicker with a look of lust and something else (something more than just carnal desire that Feliciano cannot name) before Feliciano swears out in Spanish.
One finger pushes in, gentle, teasing even (a deceiving touch for what is to come) as the head of Feliciano’s cock is lavished in licks. Roger’s eyes smoulder as the moans above him grow louder. He knows he’s begging though he doesn’t under Spanish at all. He just knows.
When Roger’s lips stay light on his cock stroke and stroke, Feliciano curses himself and his stupid plan. Who the fuck would want to be tied up, have their hands completely useless, when Roger’s godsend of a mouth works over their cock like it is now? Needing more, Feliciano tries to lift his hips in order to get more heat of Roger’s mouth. The Swiss however is having none of that.
“Stop it, Feli,” Roger growls as he pulls off, his lips wet, shiny and simply sinful. The finger in Feliciano’s ass becomes two, still nothing more than a tease and the Spaniard bucks again. Not like having his orders disobeyed, Roger uses his free hand and pins Feliciano’s hips roughly to the mattress. “Do you want me to stop this right now, Feli? Because I can and will.”
Feliciano’s body stills completely, his wrists no longer tugging against the silk material, his hips immobile under Roger’s grip. He shakes head with a slight curl on his lips. He’ll obey... for now.
Once knowing Feliciano will comply, Roger wraps his lips around him once again, his fingers still moving leisurely. There’s a slight twitch of the Spaniard’s hips but Roger ignores it, giving him the benefit of doubt. He lowers his mouth all the way to the base before repeating the motion four times. With licks to the head, Roger’s lips kiss their way back up Feliciano’s thrumming body; every silent plea is loud with the way his muscles his tremble. Roger thinks maybe, just maybe, Feliciano is ready for more.
Wrapping his lube covered hand around his own cock, Roger lines up, his lips now attached to his collarbone, and pushes in swiftly. His hands cover bound ones, the strip of silk heaven on his skin, like Feliciano’s heat around his cock.
The slow easy pace of his fingers early was no indication how Roger is fucking Feliciano now. He thrusts in hard, loving the way the muscles around his cock barely comply to stretch.
Feliciano nudges him with his chin and seconds later, their lips mimicking their fucking. It’s messy and dirty and both men can’t help but moan against each other’s mouths. Roger feels the Spaniard’s fingers curl against his, doing his best to try to entwine them together despite being restrained.
“Harder,” Feliciano whispers. He has nowhere to go when Roger complies brutally, his cock now hitting his prostate with every thrust. Whines die in his throat and moments later he comes against Roger’s stomach, his muscles clenching impossibly tight around his cock. Roger’s fingernails dig into the skin of his wrists as his climax follows.
Pulling at Feliciano’s bottom lip with his teeth, Roger moves to the side but doesn’t pull out. One hand stays where it is while the other trails down Feliciano’s sweaty body, fingers swirling with the come that pools there.
“Didn’t know you could do that.”
“Me too,” Feliciano replies with a laugh, revelling in the feel of Roger’s soft touch against his skin, calming his body down.
When Roger has no choice but to slip out of him, they remain together on the bed, their bodies still tucked together. They breathe in tandem, in and out. It’s peaceful calm and silent, how it should be until Feliciano interrupts.
“Roger? Untie me?”
Roger looks up under sleepy but lust-filled eyes. “Who said we’re finished?”