Series: Rain (verse:Pretty Close to Invincible, NC-17, Andy Roddick/Roger Federer) Title: Rain (Pretty Close to Invincible series 10/10) Rating: NC-17 Pairing: Andy Roddick/Roger Federer Summary: Andy, Roger, a tennis court at night and fairly plotless smut. :) Notes: Set most probably after Roger’s birthday, hence Andy being in Switzerland, so it’s a little while after the end of the Pretty Close to Invincible series, though it’s in that universe.
Rain
Roger groaned as he waded fuzzily up through sleep to open his eyes. Everything ached. His back, his thighs, his ass, his side from the arm he was lying on-
-which unless he’d grown an extra one overnight, most certainly did not belong to him.
Slowly, struggling to think through a haze of sleep, Roger rolled over and came nose to nose with a sleepy, naked, Andy Roddick. “Now that’s not the expression I was hoping to see,” the American observed as he noticed Roger’s deep frown. “Expecting someone else?”
The last few months, Wimbledon, Andy, Toronto, came back to Roger in a rush. Heaving a sigh of relief, he wriggled closer to the American and resting his forehead on Andy's tanned chest. “I forgot for a moment. I’m very happy to see you.” He kissed the smooth skin under his mouth, tasting the salty tang of sweat. “Guten morgen.”
“I’d say good morning back but it’s only two a.m..” Andy sounded amused as he rearranged his arms around Roger’s waist. “Feeling okay?”
“I feel like you… how do you say? Fucked me through a wall,” the Swiss confessed. His new position did nothing to help cramped and bruised muscles. Andy shifted his arms again so he could begin massaging Roger’s shoulders, calloused fingers rubbing gently across skin that had the slightest slick of sweat to it in the warm room. The Swiss sighed in pleasure as Andy laughed softly.
“I think I tried.”
“Mmm.” Roger tilted his head back a little, leaning into the pressing fingers, now almost-hard enough to bruise. “Do it again?” he suggested hopefully, exhaling with relief as skilled fingers loosened tight muscles. Andy’s mouth was hot against his throat, teeth grazing the skin ever so lightly. His hands never stopped the steady circling pressure into Roger’s cramped muscles, sending jolts of pleasure straight down the Swiss’ spine as painful aches eased. The American pushed him back, moving over to straddle Roger’s thighs without losing contact with lips or hands. The skin to skin contact made them both shiver, Andy hissing a little through his teeth.
“Again?” he murmured between open-mouthed kisses, trailing wetness along Roger’s cheek. “Sure you can handle it?”
Roger bucked his hips up as an answer, giving them both friction but not enough. Andy’s lips trembled at the corner of his mouth. “Get dressed,” he growled and rolled away, reaching for his jeans. Roger lay shocked and motionless for a minute, adjusting to the loss of Andy’s heat from against his half-hard cock before scrambling upright and following the American across the hopeless tangle of sheets and blankets they’d made of the bed. Andy paused in pulling on his jeans, arching back into the other man as Roger wrapped strong arms around his waist and kissed the back of his neck.
“Why dressed?” the Swiss demanded fiercely, his lips moving against Andy’s neck. “You’re planning on going somewhere?”
Teeth pressed harder in skin; Andy groaned at the sensation, struggling to speak. “You want me to fuck you again. And I will, if you do something for me.”
“Anything,” Roger breathed, tasting the salty sweat in the hollow of the American’s collarbone. A tiny whimper hissed free of Andy’s clenched teeth.
“You said you jerked off on a tennis court a few months ago,” he gasped, trying to ignore Roger’s open mouth, hot and wet against his throat. “Let me fuck you out there.”
The Swiss stilled, lips pressed to Andy’s skin. “Outside?”
“Yeah.” Andy could feel him hesitate. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. The hotel’s practically empty; the courts are hidden round the back. We’ll be fine.”
“If anyone catches us-“ Roger shivered at the thought. Andy turned his head to bring their lips together in a hard kiss.
“Guess you’ll just have to be quiet then,” he murmured. Roger laughed into his mouth.
“It’s good I’m not the screamer in this relationship,” he teased back. “But…” Again a hesitation, then, “…Okay.”
“Fantastic.” Andy peeled himself out of the other man’s embrace, wincing as sweat glued them together. Bending to the floor he scooped up Roger’s jeans and tossed them over his shoulder. They hit the Swiss in the chest, rocking him backwards. “Hurry up or I might end up screwing you in the lift on the way down.”
“Sounds good,” Roger murmured, watching in appreciation as Andy stood up to fasten his jeans. The faint light through the window behind him turned him into a tall silhouette, sweat-slick skin gleaming slightly. Roger reached out almost hypnotised and found his wrist caught in a warningly tight grip.
“Outside,” Andy promised softly, releasing the captive hand. Roger shivered in anticipation and started to wriggle into his clothes.
They slipped out the door quietly, tennis shoes soundless on the thick carpet. The hall lights were on but dimmed, creating a weird half light around them as they ran down the hall, avoiding each other’s eyes so as not to laugh at the craziness of what they were doing. Andy hit the button to call the lift then pushed Roger back against the wall and kissed him senseless while they waited. The Swiss submitted to the soft mouth and pressing tongue easily but used the distraction to slide his hands up Andy’s shirt, running his nails lightly across flushed skin. He’d just reached a nipple when the lift doors opened with a quiet ping. Andy broke the kiss with a half-moan.
“Fucking timing,” he growled under his breath. Without stepping back, he wrapped an arm around Roger’s waist and dragged him sideways into the lift, kissing him again in the process. For a few moments everything was wet tongue and sharp teeth, nails drawing red lines across bare skin before Roger turned his head far enough to see the lift buttons and press the one for the lobby. As the doors slid shut Andy’s hands were at his belt, fumbling with the buckle.
“Not outside yet,” Roger pointed out breathlessly between kisses. Seconds later a small cry escaped him as Andy abandoned the belt and settled for a quick grope instead. Rough denim was a painfully thick barrier between bare skin on skin and Roger bucked his hips into the touch almost unconsciously. Andy’s laugh was low and rough.
“Thanks for reminding me.”
“Tease,” Roger gasped in response.
“I do try.” Andy let his hands slid lower to rest on the Swiss’ thighs, rubbing lightly over his hips and down to his ass. Roger closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the wall; Andy had just leaned in to kiss his exposed throat when the lift slid to a halt and they heard voices from the other side of the door. A second later they were standing apart, both flushed, both trying to appear innocent.
The elderly couple who waited for them to exit the lift nodded and smiled politely; Roger managed a nod in reply before Andy’s hand surreptitiously slid round to squeeze his ass. The Swiss barely bit back a yell of shock which came out a strangled gasp. He heard Andy stifling laughter as he hastily reassured the old lady he was fine and the couple disappeared into the lift.
The instant the lift doors pinged shut Andy found himself pinned against the wall of the lobby, Roger’s hand inside his jeans. The Swiss rubbed a few fingers in tantalising circles.
“You bastard,” he said calmly. Andy’s eyes were screwed shut with the effort of keeping quiet as Roger moved his hand faster. “If they had seen that-“
“I’d laugh it off as a joke,” Andy gasped with difficulty. “What kind of self-respecting old person is still walking around at 2am anywaaaaaa... fuck Roger!” He arched off the wall into the Swiss’ hand and moaned desperately under his breath when it was removed a moment later. Roger gripped his wrist instead and hauled him towards the hotel entrance, greeting the night porter affably in German as they passed. Andy was too dazed and hard to manage more than a vague nod before Roger dragged him through the doors and outside, the cooler air a shock against flushed skin.
Roger didn’t hesitate but half-dragged, half-kissed Andy over to the steps down to the courts. They nearly fell down the first so absorbed were they in each other and more stumbled than walked down the rest. The thought occurred to Roger at the bottom that perhaps he should’ve opened his eyes at least once on the way down then Andy had him pressed back against the wire mesh fence of the tennis courts. He could feel the cold metal leave criss-cross marks across his back, the American kissing him as though he was trying to climb inside Roger’s mouth, teeth dragging sharp across lips and the wet press of tongues. They both surfaced for air a minute later, Andy resting his forehead against Roger’s shoulder while he caught his breath.
“Still want me to fuck you?” he asked breathlessly, hands running lightly up and down the Swiss’ back and thighs. Roger’s only response was an incoherent moan which Andy took to mean ‘yes’. Half supporting the Swiss, he pulled him sideways through the gate onto the court.
Overhead the moon sailed out from behind a cloud, illuminating everything in shades of silvery monochrome; Andy caught his breath as it painted Roger in light and shadow, eyes lost in darkness. He took a step back to take in the sight, Roger with jeans unzipped, half off his hips and shirt pushed up, revealing a trail of dark curls leading down. Brown hair turned black by moonlight; lips wet and silvered, breathless and so fucking turned on, the Swiss was quite possibly the most beautiful thing Andy had ever seen.
Roger made a tiny sound of annoyance, or perhaps of want, shivering under Andy’s light grip on his shoulders as a breeze stirred his hair. Closing in again, Andy kissed him backwards into the shadows at one end of the court, under the hanging branches of a massive tree.
As the darkness closed in around them, Roger’s eyes flickered open and he tilted his head back, camouflage patterns of moonlight dappling his skin through the leaves. “There…” His voice cracked as Andy rubbed against him, his breath hitching under the onslaught of determined – and well practised – hands. “There was a tree like this last time.”
“Mmm?” Andy breathed the sound against Roger’s throat. “Were you underneath it?” He finally pushed Roger all the way back to the fence which they hit with the soft rattle of metal on metal. He nipped the damp skin under his mouth to draw a moan from the Swiss.
“Y-yes.” Roger hissed through his teeth as the American finally freed him from his jeans, pushing them down around his ankles. He reached to return the favour but Andy captured his wrists and trapped them above his head with one hand, leaving Roger pinned and defenceless.
“You look amazing like this,” he murmured, leaning in to graze Roger’s bottom lip with his teeth. Whining deep in his throat, Roger pushed his hips forward – the only move he could make with Andy trapping his wrists and his jeans tangled around his ankles – so his hard cock rubbed Andy’s through the American’s jeans. Andy gasped at the pressure and let go of the Swiss’ hands to start unbuttoning his own jeans.
“Andy.” Roger could hardly make himself focus enough to form words, shivering in the breeze that was cool against his bare thighs, colder against the dampness beading at the end of his cock. The moon had vanished behind the clouds again and Andy’s questioning glance was almost hidden by shadows. “Make sure there’s no one here. Please.”
“You’ve done this before. What’s the point of being careful now?” Andy murmured with a note of almost-petulance in his voice. Still, there was a pause as he took a long look around them, taking in the dark tennis court with the lights of the hotel too far away to touch them. The only sound was the leaves overhead rustling in the breeze. “There’s no one Rog. Just us.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. You want me to fuck you or not?” Andy leaned in to kiss him, sucking Roger’s tongue into his mouth and rubbing his teeth across it a little harder than gently, a suggestion that no would be the wrong answer. With a moan Roger leaned forward into it, trembling as Andy’s hands slid over his chest and down to his stomach.
“Please, yes, please…”
Andy’s chuckle was low with an edge of excitement as he pressed Roger down to the rough court, quickly sitting back to strip off their shirts and fold them under the Swiss’ head to cushion it from the rough concrete. Sitting across Roger’s thighs, he paused.
“You brought the lube right?”
“No. I don’t care,” Roger gasped out, rocking his hips in a way that begged without him having to speak. His cock brushed Andy’s stomach as the American leaned down to trail kisses across his chest, licking a wet path through hair already damp with sweat and he had to bite his lip hard to stifle a loud cry as teeth latched onto a nipple, tugged slightly. “Please Andy!”
“I love it when you beg,” Andy murmured as he rearranged his legs, pushing Roger’s thighs apart. “Reminds me that you want me.”
“Always want you.” Roger let his body rock up into Andy’s hands on his hips, ignoring the sharp scrape of stones beneath him as one hand left his hip to rub over his cock. Andy made a soft sound of appreciation and Roger opened his eyes to see why, found he could just see the American watching him intently through the darkness. “Andy?”
“Were you thinking of me the last time you did this?” Andy’s voice was quietly neutral, a little breathless, the warm hand letting go of Roger’s cock. When it returned a second later it was wet, from Andy’s mouth Roger thought until a wet finger probed his ass and he lost any ability to think at all. The sound he made was closer to a whine than words and Andy had to repeat the question.
“Rog? Were you thinking about me last time?”
“Yes,” Roger gasped out. “Imagining you were there.”
“What was I doing?” Andy pushed the finger a little further in, checking how slick Roger was from earlier. It slid in easily and he added a second, drawing a moan from the Swiss. “Roger?”
“Kissing me.” Roger ground the words out, pushing back against Andy’s fingers. The lack of lube burned less than he’d expected, everything they’d done earlier loosening him up considerably. His eyes were closed and his sound of surprise when Andy’s mouth touched his came out muffled.
“Like this?” Andy whispered between kisses that were hard enough for Roger to feel the scrape of teeth, eerily like the ones he’d imagined months ago. The American’s free hand rubbed across his chest, pinching a nipple and it was so familiar that, for a brief second, Roger thought he was imagining it again, only the slow burn of the stretch as Andy added a third finger convincing him otherwise. Andy twisted his fingers and swallowed Roger’s scream when they pressed hard to the Swiss’ prostate, keeping his mouth on Roger’s until the last of it had died away. Last thing they wanted was to attract a concerned security guard or wake other hotel guests, because no matter how far away the hotel looked it probably wasn’t far enough.
“Like that.” Roger whispered hoarsely when he could talk again, his lips stinging as Andy sat back a little, pulling his fingers out only to replace them with the head of his cock, starting to press slowly into the Swiss. It hurt more than the fingers and Roger screwed his eyes shut with a whimper he couldn’t bite back until Andy kissed him again, hot breath and wet lips a welcome distraction.
“What else was I doing?” he asked against Roger’s mouth. Roger just shook his head, unable to speak but when he reached unsteadily down to wrap a hand loosely around his cock, the American knew what he meant. A large, calloused hand closed over Roger’s quickening the pace slightly as Andy slid all the way inside him.
Roger caught his breath, tension only relaxing as Andy stayed still, only moving his hand lazily up and down with Roger’s between their bodies. The breeze had got colder but Roger couldn’t feel it, everything centred on Andy filling him and their entwined hands, jerking his cock with slow, purposeful movements.
They’d done this more times than he could count since Toronto, learning the finer details of each other until he could almost map Andy from memory and he still didn’t think he’d ever get tired of it. Sex with Andy wasn’t like anything he’d ever done, not like sleeping with Mirka or the uncertain fumbling with other boys in the showers back at the Tennis Centre, when he was fifteen and just starting to wonder about his preferences. It was sweet and hard and intimate all at the same time; it didn’t matter if he was in Andy or if Andy was in him, if it was a quick fuck snatched between matches or a night like tonight when they pushed their stamina to the limits, it was the same. And he loved it.
“Did you imagine me doing anything else?” Andy’s whispered, breathless question as he started to thrust dragged Roger’s attention back to him. The Swiss had to concentrate to shake his head even slightly, brushing his lips against Andy’s.
“No,” he gasped out, shifting his legs to wrap them around Andy’s waist, steadying himself as he pushed back against Andy’s thrusts. “God, Andy… faster, please…”
Andy was laughing as he obeyed, speeding their hands on Roger’s cock in time with his thrusts and Roger cried out as the American hit his prostate, not caring anymore they were outside or how much trouble they’d be in if they were caught. Andy seemed to be more worried, judging by how quickly his mouth was on Roger’s, muffling the sound, and in the way he deepened the kiss until Roger was too breathless to cry out, even as Andy thrust hard into him and everything was flashing white behind his eyelids as he was coming, wet and sticky over their hands. Andy shuddered a few seconds later and came with a quiet gasp, bracing himself against Roger’s shoulder with one hand.
Everything was quiet for a long few seconds as they caught their breath. Roger slowly became aware of the stinging along his ass and thighs that suggested he’d find countless scratches along them in the morning, concrete hard and rough beneath him as he shifted. There was a hiss from Andy as the American slid out, one wet hand pressing against Roger’s hip for balance. The Swiss narrowed his eyes to see through the darkness.
“What’s the matter?”
“Think I need to ice my knees,” Andy muttered and a groan followed the next shuffle of movement. “Okay. Ow.”
“This was your idea,” Roger reminded him, unable to keep the teasing note from his voice as he carefully sat up. Every part of him felt lethargic and sated, apart from his stomach which just felt wet and sticky. He winced, feeling around for his shirt to try and clean it off. “You can’t regret it now.”
“Who said I regretted it?” Andy murmured, arms wrapping around Roger and pulling him into a kiss. Roger shivered into it as the American rubbed his hands through Roger’s hair and down over his arms, cold now from the breeze. “So?”
“So…?” Roger repeated, confused. Andy's sigh was audible, warm against his skin.
“So, was it better? Having me actually here?”
Roger thought about it. The last time he’d done this, or at least something like this, he’d been desperate, close to tears from frustration and exhaustion. He’d never have thought only a few months later he’d be sitting naked on another tennis court, Andy’s arms wrapped around him for real. He’d never have hoped he’d be that lucky.
“Better than you’d believe,” he said softly. “Only…”
“What?” Andy sat back, his arms still around Roger’s waist. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s just something-“ Roger broke off as the first drop of rain hit his shoulder. Overhead the clouds had thickened, hiding the moon and it was exactly like last time as the rain started to fall in earnest, only better, because Andy was sitting right next to him. With a smile, Roger tilted his head back and let the rain soak him, trickling over his face. Just like last time.
Only much, much better.
“Rog?” Andy demanded, a note of worry in his voice. “We're kind of getting soaked. And 'only’ what?”
“Nothing.” Roger closed his eyes, the taste of Andy in his mouth and the feel of the American all over him. Some impossible how, he reflected, it had all worked out. “Everything’s just perfect.”