fic: your leaving had no goodbye
title: your leaving had no goodbye
pairing: david ferrer/juan carlos ferrero
rating: pg-13
disclaimer: fiction
spain's dc semi final.
for miss_black91. happy birthday, love ♥ i've decided to feed your ferru addictionlove. the fic isn't long but my list is :p title is from the xx's infinity.
The hotel room in Gijon is stuffy with the air conditioning broken but both David and Juan Carlos have faced worse conditions. David’s hyper aware of their positions on the bed, on his bed, with him sitting on one side of the mattress, his fingers fanned out against the comforter behind him. Juan Carlos is right next to him mirroring his exact position and his fingers are close, too close. David’s not sure if it’s body heat he can feel or if it’s heat from the natural sun slightly suffocating them.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
Juan Carlos lets out a small laugh, his shoulders shaking enough to brush lightly against David’s.
“I had to be here.”
“But with everything going on...” David trails off, not sure if he can say it. Because if he does it’s true and the truth is something he’s not sure he can handle right now.
“It’ll all be over soon, Ferru,” Juan Carlos turns his head to look his friend in the eyes. He offers a smile, a radiant one that light up his face. “And I don’t want to miss a moment of it.”
“Will you watch on Friday?”
Juan Carlos laughs again and this time he slides his hand that’s nearest Ferru’s and covers it with his own.
“Of course I will.”
David’s attention hones in on where they are touching and it’s nothing like before. They have had their moments of reckless disregard for their friendship, where passion and heat suppressed rationality. It’s only happened a few times before but never have they talked about it.
And they don’t start today.
*
Friday rolls around and David feels a slight buzz in his body as he usually does before matches. He has always had the feeling since he was a kid and played his first match in his hometown of Xàbia and although it’s dulled from those days, it’s still very much present.
No one’s taking the tie lightly and David knows how much importance is rested on the first match. He isn’t too worried yet he’s not one to indulge in overt self confidence. So David proceeds with each one of his pre match rituals and is ready to head out on court.
The heat coupled with the cheer of the crowd, of his crowd is heady and David has a good feeling about the entire tie.
*
His back connects with the wall as he’s greeted with a kiss he has been hungry for since the last time they did this. Juan Carlos doesn’t say a word, nothing coherent anyway and David chalks it up another one of their moments of irrationality. (Although a fleeting thought passes through him that he should push Juan Carlos away and demand they talk. A fleeting thought however.)
It’s still too hot in this air-condition-less room, still too stuffy and the fact that David has just played four sets doesn’t help but he’s too weak to not give in.
It has always been an understanding between them, a silent understanding and neither man could fight moments like these.
They are the same weight but Juan Carlos has a few inches on David and uses it to his advantage as he pins David to door. (They both know David would never stop Juan Carlos from anything he wanted.)
It’s slow with the right amount of urgency. The way Juan Carlos runs his fingers carefully over David’s skin before digging them into his hips. The way David doesn’t wait for Juan Carlos to open his lips for him but instead forces them open for himself. The way they both don’t care that sweat forms quickly and clings to every inch of their bodies. The way they get lost within themselves.
It’s not until it’s said and done does David feel like it’s a goodbye.
*
Another win and another Davis Cup final. The smile on David’s lips could not be erased even if he wanted to. Body after body, everyone congratulates him on his spectacular effort with hugs, slaps on the back and kisses on the cheek. But only one person tugs on strands of his hair and David whips around quickly, already anticipating.
“You must be so used to all this,” Juan Carlos teases but he’s wearing a wide smile. “Congratulations, Ferru.” The hug he pulls David in for is all consuming.
“Thank you, Juanqui.”
Juan Carlos pulls him back far enough to look him in the eyes and suddenly the stadium and the many screaming fans fade away to a lull.
“We’ll talk after Valencia, okay?”
David wants to ask him what he means, why they can’t just talk right now but there’s a slight squeeze to the back of his neck and Juan Carlos gives him one last smile before he pushes him towards the rest of his teammates.
David’s too lost in his thoughts, his feeling, in this sudden idea of them that he only catches the tail end of Feli’s plan of tossing Juan Carlos in the air.
One last hurrah.
pairing: david ferrer/juan carlos ferrero
rating: pg-13
disclaimer: fiction
spain's dc semi final.
for miss_black91. happy birthday, love ♥ i've decided to feed your ferru addictionlove. the fic isn't long but my list is :p title is from the xx's infinity.
The hotel room in Gijon is stuffy with the air conditioning broken but both David and Juan Carlos have faced worse conditions. David’s hyper aware of their positions on the bed, on his bed, with him sitting on one side of the mattress, his fingers fanned out against the comforter behind him. Juan Carlos is right next to him mirroring his exact position and his fingers are close, too close. David’s not sure if it’s body heat he can feel or if it’s heat from the natural sun slightly suffocating them.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
Juan Carlos lets out a small laugh, his shoulders shaking enough to brush lightly against David’s.
“I had to be here.”
“But with everything going on...” David trails off, not sure if he can say it. Because if he does it’s true and the truth is something he’s not sure he can handle right now.
“It’ll all be over soon, Ferru,” Juan Carlos turns his head to look his friend in the eyes. He offers a smile, a radiant one that light up his face. “And I don’t want to miss a moment of it.”
“Will you watch on Friday?”
Juan Carlos laughs again and this time he slides his hand that’s nearest Ferru’s and covers it with his own.
“Of course I will.”
David’s attention hones in on where they are touching and it’s nothing like before. They have had their moments of reckless disregard for their friendship, where passion and heat suppressed rationality. It’s only happened a few times before but never have they talked about it.
And they don’t start today.
*
Friday rolls around and David feels a slight buzz in his body as he usually does before matches. He has always had the feeling since he was a kid and played his first match in his hometown of Xàbia and although it’s dulled from those days, it’s still very much present.
No one’s taking the tie lightly and David knows how much importance is rested on the first match. He isn’t too worried yet he’s not one to indulge in overt self confidence. So David proceeds with each one of his pre match rituals and is ready to head out on court.
The heat coupled with the cheer of the crowd, of his crowd is heady and David has a good feeling about the entire tie.
*
His back connects with the wall as he’s greeted with a kiss he has been hungry for since the last time they did this. Juan Carlos doesn’t say a word, nothing coherent anyway and David chalks it up another one of their moments of irrationality. (Although a fleeting thought passes through him that he should push Juan Carlos away and demand they talk. A fleeting thought however.)
It’s still too hot in this air-condition-less room, still too stuffy and the fact that David has just played four sets doesn’t help but he’s too weak to not give in.
It has always been an understanding between them, a silent understanding and neither man could fight moments like these.
They are the same weight but Juan Carlos has a few inches on David and uses it to his advantage as he pins David to door. (They both know David would never stop Juan Carlos from anything he wanted.)
It’s slow with the right amount of urgency. The way Juan Carlos runs his fingers carefully over David’s skin before digging them into his hips. The way David doesn’t wait for Juan Carlos to open his lips for him but instead forces them open for himself. The way they both don’t care that sweat forms quickly and clings to every inch of their bodies. The way they get lost within themselves.
It’s not until it’s said and done does David feel like it’s a goodbye.
*
Another win and another Davis Cup final. The smile on David’s lips could not be erased even if he wanted to. Body after body, everyone congratulates him on his spectacular effort with hugs, slaps on the back and kisses on the cheek. But only one person tugs on strands of his hair and David whips around quickly, already anticipating.
“You must be so used to all this,” Juan Carlos teases but he’s wearing a wide smile. “Congratulations, Ferru.” The hug he pulls David in for is all consuming.
“Thank you, Juanqui.”
Juan Carlos pulls him back far enough to look him in the eyes and suddenly the stadium and the many screaming fans fade away to a lull.
“We’ll talk after Valencia, okay?”
David wants to ask him what he means, why they can’t just talk right now but there’s a slight squeeze to the back of his neck and Juan Carlos gives him one last smile before he pushes him towards the rest of his teammates.
David’s too lost in his thoughts, his feeling, in this sudden idea of them that he only catches the tail end of Feli’s plan of tossing Juan Carlos in the air.
One last hurrah.