clo (clo) wrote in clofic, @ 2005-06-06 21:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | andy roddick, andy roddick/roger federer/mardy fish, drabbles/ficlets, mardy fish, nc-17, roger federer |
Ficlet: Resolutions (NC-17, Roger Federer/Andy Roddick/Mardy Fish)
Title: Resolutions
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Mainly Andy Roddick/Roger Federer/Mardy Fish, ref. to Moya/Nadal and Hewitt/Haas
Summary: ... No summary. Just New Year's Eve smut.
Disclaimer: See above. Not mine etc.
Warnings: PWP. Threesome. Mention of tennis player orgies. Did I mention PWP?
Resolutions
Roger hated parties. Especially New Year parties. Everyone drinking too much, doing horribly embarrassing things they’d spend the rest of the year regretting, avoiding each other’s eyes and slinking silently out of each other’s way. It was worse with parties full of tennis players – some of them seemed to regard New Year as a chance for a final wild and indiscriminate orgy. Roger sighed as Moya and Nadal stumbled past, Carlos’ hand inside the younger Spaniard’s jeans and Nadal gasping for breath, eyes screwed shut and head thrown back. There was a reason girlfriends and wives weren’t invited to nights like this.
“Roger, you look lonely.” A strong arm wrapped around his waist, dragging him back a step to press against a warm body. Lips brushed his neck, damp and soft as Andy tangled a hand in the Swiss’ hair. “I can’t believe you aren’t celebrating your amazing year.”
“I’m more worried about how long I’ll last next year if Mirka finds out I let you fuck me again.” Roger leaned back into Andy’s embrace, tilting his head to one side as the American’s mouth travelled up his neck, sharp teeth nibbling an earlobe and making him shiver. “Last year…”
“Last year I got to be top. This year you’re number one. Rules have changed.” Andy sounded almost resigned as he turned Roger, their hips and thighs pressing together. “Mirka knows what it’s all about so stop worrying and shut up.”
“But-“ Roger was cut off as Andy kissed him, wet lips tasting of bourbon and something salty like pretzels. Roger made a sound of protest but the American pushed him back against the wall and kissed him harder, demanding and rough as his tongue pushed into the Swiss’ mouth. Roger was half aware of the whiskey glass in his hand, of similarly engaged players around them, of the uncomfortable tightness of his jeans – oh god he was definitely aware of that – but all of it faded to a blur as Andy pressed closer, thighs and hips grinding into Roger’s. The Swiss made a sound that was half-gasp, half moan when Andy finally leaned back a little, one hand busy unbuttoning Roger’s black shirt.
“Mmm I love silk,” he murmured, rubbing his other palm across the Swiss’ silk-covered chest, his face lighting up at Roger’s hiss of breath. “You kinky bastard Feds. Should I leave it on?” Abandoning the buttons he bent his head to kiss Roger’s shoulder through the shirt, his mouth leaving wet trails across silk. Roger shut his eyes, feeling a hand start to unzip his jeans.
“Andy I can’t-“
“Sorry,” a voice murmured beside his ear as another body pressed against his side, the hand at his zip sliding inside, tauntingly slow. “I’m not Andy.”
Roger’s eyes flickered open in shock, catching sight of Andy’s wicked smile just before Mardy leaned in to kiss him, blond hair and sparkling blue eyes obscuring his view. Roger started to struggle only to go weak and shivery a moment later when Mardy’s hand crept inside his briefs, calloused palm rough against soft skin. Andy caught Roger as his legs gave way, wrapping his arms tightly around the Swiss’ waist. “Hey, don’t quit yet,” he told him, half-carrying Roger across the room to the elevator. Mardy followed without losing his loose grip on the Swiss, grinning wickedly at the little moaning sounds Roger was making. “I actually put thought into this.”
“I’m impressed,” Roger managed, leaning heavily on both of them as two pairs of hands shamelessly explored him from the neck downwards. “Call the – fuck, Mardy, don’t stop, don’tstop… record books.”
“Always the smart ass,” Andy muttered, taking a hand off Roger long enough to press the elevator button. “Careful or I’ll let Mardy fuck you right here.”
“Don’t think anyone would mind,” Roger gasped, catching a quick glimpse of Moya and Nadal over Andy’s shoulder, entwined together on the floor while beyond them Lleyton Hewitt was making short work of Tommy Haas’ clothes. “They’d probably join in.”
“And that is exactly why we’re leaving.” Andy put his hand under Roger’s chin and tilted the Swiss’ head up, kissing him again as Mardy moved his hand a little faster, pressed a little harder. Roger was just about to cry out when the elevator arrived with a soft bing. Andy stepped back and Roger swore desperately in German when Mardy took his hand away too.
“Patience, love, is a virtue or so I’ve heard.” Andy dragged him into the elevator, freeing the glass of whiskey from Roger’s grip as he pulled the Swiss up against him. Taking a sip he made a face. “I see your taste in drinks hasn’t improved.”
“I could say the same.” Roger jumped as Mardy’s arms slid around his waist from behind, the American brushing his fingers teasingly over the erection fighting to escape Roger’s too-tight jeans. “How’d Andy talk you into this Fish?”
“Actually I asked,” Mardy murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of Roger’s neck, followed by a gentle bite. The Swiss had to grit his teeth to stop himself making a sound. “I’ve always wanted to hear you scream.”
“I warned him you weren’t much of a screamer but he thought it was a challenge,” Andy said lazily, letting his hands drift to Roger’s hips, the whiskey having disappeared somewhere. He let them rest there, his thumbs rubbing lightly where hip met thigh. He knew from experience it was a turn-on spot for Roger and as Mardy practically wrapped himself around the Swiss from behind, Roger couldn’t swallow a half-choked cry. Andy grinned in triumph.
“Not quite screaming, but you’ll get there,” he murmured as the elevator came to a halt. The doors behind them slid open and they all staggered out into the hotel corridor in a tangle of arms, legs and half-undone clothes. Andy let go briefly to find his room key; Roger, only partly aware of what he was doing by now turned to kiss Mardy, slamming him back against the wall. Mardy kissed him back, raking his nails down Roger’s chest and snapping free the last few buttons on his shirt. Roger ignored the damage; Mardy’s tongue down his throat was more important.
Opening the door, Andy caught Mardy’s arm and pulled them both sideways into his room without separating them; Roger fell backwards onto the bed with Mardy on top of him. He barely heard the click of Andy locking the door, all his attention centred on the blond American straddling his thighs.
“People should fuck you more often Feds,” Mardy muttered, tangling a hand in Roger’s hair and pulling his head back so he could kiss him easier. “You look gorgeous like this.”
The bed beneath them rocked as Andy sat down; Roger was distantly aware of impatient hands removing his shoes and jeans, although Andy left his shirt alone. Another second and Mardy’s weight was gone; Roger started to sit up with a cry of protest but Andy – a very naked Andy – grabbed his hands and dragged him off the bed. Roger staggered as he stood up, feeling Mardy catch him from behind.
“Now Roger for once in your life you’re going to let us be in control understand?” Andy murmured, brushing wayward curls of hair out Roger’s eyes. The Swiss swallowed and nodded, holding onto Andy to stay upright as Mardy slid a finger into him, cold and slick with lube. He arced his body up almost involuntarily as Andy curled a hand around his cock.
“Enjoying yourself Rog?” the American asked almost casually as Mardy added a second finger. Roger couldn’t open his eyes to see Andy’s face but he knew the other man was smirking.
“Fuck off. And don’t you – fuck - dare stop.” Roger could feel the room spin as Mardy pressed rough kisses to his neck, angling his fingers upwards slightly as he added a third. It hurt a little – it had been a while – but the burn of stretching was lost in the feel of Mardy’s fingers moving inside him and Andy’s hand, stroking just light enough to be a tease. Roger writhed, unable to help it as he started to get desperate.
“Mardy please-“ he begged, his voice cracking. He could feel Andy exchange looks with the other American; felt the fingers withdraw. He hardly had time to protest before Mardy was pushing slowly into him as Andy trailed kisses down his chest. They’d somehow ended up with Mardy pressed back against the wall, Roger between him and Andy, whose mouth was still moving purposefully downwards. Roger swore in three different languages and thrust his ass back, driving Mardy in deeper. He heard the American gasp as sensation swept through him, making him dizzy.
“Fuck Roger, for someone who didn’t want this…” Mardy said through gritted teeth, letting the thought hang unfinished. Roger barely heard him; Andy’s tight grip on his thighs was the only thing holding him up, was the only thing that felt real as Mardy thrust harder, hitting all the right places. He knew if he listened he’d hear their harsh breathing, hear Mardy’s tiny moans and Andy’s low humming to make his mouth vibrate around Roger’s cock but he couldn’t spare the attention; everything was focused on Mardy inside him and Andy’s mouth, hot and wet around him. He could feel everything building, fierce pleasure mixed with pain as Andy’s teeth scraped too hard, as Mardy left teeth marks in his shoulder. Roger let his head fall back on Mardy’s shoulder and bucked his hips forward into Andy’s mouth as he finally came with a scream, Mardy coming a few thrusts later gasping Roger’s name and Andy catching them both, almost carrying them to the bed.
Roger half-fell onto soft sheets and buried his face in the pillow until he stopped trembling and started to catch his breath, numb exhaustion beginning to swamp the tingling remnants of orgasm. Someone warm curled against his back and someone else lay down on the other side, twining fingers loosely through his. The Swiss knew Andy was watching him without having to look.
“I just broke my New Year’s Resolution you know,” he said, his voice muffled by the pillow. Andy slid closer, wrapping an arm around Roger’s waist. Mardy pressed closer from the other side, brushing a soft, tired kiss across the Swiss’ dark curls.
“You can’t have done,” Andy pointed out rationally, running his hand soothingly up and down Roger’s thigh. “It’s not New Year yet. We’ve got another… “ He consulted his watch. “Six minutes.”
“Not next year’s resolution, this year’s.” Roger turned his head to meet Andy’s eyes, serious and shadowed in the dark room. “I said I wouldn’t do this again. It’s not fair-“
“To Mirka, we know.” Andy leaned in to kiss him comfortingly as Mardy stroked the Swiss’ hair. “But she knows Roger, and she let you come. It’s part of being a tennis player, of being best in the world. Accept it. Besides,” and Andy’s smile turned wicked. “Didn’t you enjoy yourself?”
“That’s not the point.” Roger could feel his eyes closing; he was too tired to argue now. “But next year-”
“Next year I’ll have to go one better,” Andy said thoughtfully. “I wonder if Marat’s free…”
As he drifted off to sleep, Mardy already snoring softly on one side and Andy quietly debating foursomes on the other, Roger reflected that maybe these parties weren’t so bad after all. Yes he’d promised himself this was the one thing he wouldn’t do but… Mirka would understand.
And anyway, everyone knows New Year’s Resolutions are made to be broken.
~Fin~