scoobydumblonde (scoobydumblonde) wrote in tlaloc, @ 2008-09-15 12:43:00 |
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Entry tags: | crossovers: tennis |
Hello from a Friend (1/1)
Title: Hello from a Friend
Rating: NC-17
Notes: Ever since I saw Stéphane Lambiel skating in the Olympics, I wanted desperately to write him with Roger. When I found out they actually know each other and that Roger had called Stéphane when he won the Worlds' last year, I got a bunny. When I read that Stéphane is a Federer fan, I had to write it.
Summary: After winning the silver medal, Stéphane gets a call from a fellow countryman.
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"Hello?" Answering his phone, Stéphane Lambiel smiled and nodded as Johnny Weir passed him and patted him on the knee.
"Stéphane?" a somewhat familiar voice asked. Stéphane blinked, trying to place the voice. He knew the accent was from Switzerland, but couldn't quite place the voice.
"Yes, this is Stéphane."
"How are you?"
"I'm doing well, thank you." Stéphane raised an eyebrow and shrugged when his coach looked at him questioningly. "I'm sorry, I can't quite place your voice."
"Oh, sorry. I'm far too used to hanging out with Americans."
Stéphane smiled and waited for the answer.
"This is Roger. Roger Federer."
Stéphane swallowed so hard he was sure he'd hurt something as he stood up and made his way out of the locker room. "Roger?" he whispered once he was clear of the press and other skaters.
"Yes. I wanted to congratulate you. You were beautiful tonight."
Stéphane blushed and leaned against a wall, trying to will his erection away. "Thank you. I... thank you," he repeated, blushing harder.
"So, now that you've won an Olympic medal, what are you going to do?"
"Run and hide. I don't know how you handle all the media you get."
"Very carefully." A few moments of silence. "I'm really quite proud of you, Stéphane."
"Well, Evegeny is the Roger Federer of figure skating, so I figured I wouldn't be able to beat him for gold unless he fell and wasn't able to continue -- and I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy, so..."
"Of course not. Though some of my opponents probably wished my injuries were more serious than they were so I couldn't return." Roger laughed softly. "Where are you running off to?"
"Anywhere I can get away from the media."
"Well... here's a rather crazy thought. Why don't you come to my apartment? I'm just getting ready to head for Dubai for a tournament, but I'd love to see you again."
"You... really?" Stéphane just couldn't believe that Roger wanted to see him. He'd known the first time they'd met that he and Roger would get along if they ever got the chance to do more than say hello in passing, but he never imagined that the Roger Federer would want anything to do with him.
"Really."
"Why?"
"Why so suspicious?"
"I asked first."
"True. Because I like you. I think you're a terrific athlete and since we're both from the same country and ultimately don't live that far apart, I'd like to get to know you better. Don't make me beg, Stéphane, it wouldn't be pretty."
Stéphane smiled as he closed his eyes. Roger's voice was so seductive and he wasn't sure he was capable of saying no to the other Swiss. "I imagine you begging would be... perfect."
Roger laughed softly. "Well, if you come to Basel, I will you show you exactly how pretty I can beg."
"Uh..."
"You are... you do like men, yes?"
"Yes. You do?"
"Yes."
"Oh." Stéphane swallowed hard and forced himself off the wall. "Tell me how to get there from the airport and I'll be there as soon as possible."
"No, I will come pick you up at the airport, just call me when you know your flight schedule." Roger rattled off his phone number, then hung up.
Stéphane walked slowly back into the locker room, sitting down in shock.
"Who was that?"
"Huh?" Stéphane looked blankly up at Johnny Weir. "I'm sorry, what?"
"On the phone? Who was it?"
"A... countryman." Stéphane let out a giddy giggle before slapping his hand over his mouth. "Sorry."
Johnny just laughed and shook his head as he left. Stéphane stared after him, then shook himself and finished packing his things. He headed back to the Switzerland house in the Olympic village, celebrating his win with his friends and family before managing to escape to the airport.
He tried to stay calm the entire flight and had barely managed, but the second he saw Roger standing in the terminal all his calm flew out the window. He stopped cold on the runway, not able to move forward and unable to go back.
Roger smiled and Stéphane swallowed hard, finally moving forward when one of the flight attendants asked him if he was all right. "Roger," he murmured, holding his hand out to the other man.
Roger looked at it, then stepped into Stéphane's personal space and hugged him. "Congratulations," he murmured in the other man's ear. "You played wonderfully."
Stéphane shivered and stepped away from Roger. "Thank you," he muttered a few seconds too late. He blushed and shook his head. "I..."
Roger shushed Stéphane and grabbed his bag. "Is this all you brought with you?"
"Ja, I have to go back for the Gala."
Roger nodded, sliding his free arm around Stéphane's waist. "Do you have to be in top form?"
"No. Just good enough to skate. Why?"
Roger smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, I was planning to wear you out a little."
Stéphane whimpered, cursing softly under his breath as his body reacted to both Roger's words and the images that popped into his head. "How?" he squeaked out.
Roger chuckled and led the way to a black Mercedes. "Well, we can discuss that. As long as it involves us being naked and sweaty and covered in cum at the end."
Stéphane whimpered again and leaned against the car. He closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing heart. "Nice car."
"Thank you. I have many like it." Roger opened the trunk and set Stéphane's bag inside. "What did you tell your family?"
"That a friend was helping me to hide for a few days."
"Ah, good."
Stéphane squeaked and jumped when a long-fingered hand covered his crotch. "Roger!" His eyes flew open and he looked around, making sure that no one noticed either of them.
Roger smiled and leaned in, kissing Stéphane lightly. "Just had to touch you." He reached around Stéphane and opened the car door, pressing his body against the other man's. It wasn't until they were in the car and on their way to Roger's that Roger spoke again. "Do you remember the first time we met?"
"Of course." Stéphane took a deep breath and glanced over at Roger who frowned in concentration as he made his way to his home. "2004. The Athens Olympics. I was so nervous about finally getting to meet you. You're... I went to see you specifically. I love to watch you play. You define the words grace and beauty in motion. You were so sweet when we were introduced. You acted like I really mattered to you." Stéphane blushed and looked out the window. "And I sound like a simpering girl."
"Nein. You do matter to me. I'd like to think we're friends, Stéphane. You're an amazing athlete and every bit as good at what you do as I am at what I do. I treated you as an equal, which is what you are." Roger reached over, patting Stéphane's knee.
Stéphane blushed harder and continued looking out the window. "How long before we get to your place?"
"Just another... well, it's right there." Roger pointed out his apartment as he pulled into his garage. He smiled as Stéphane's eyes went wide at the sight of his other cars. "Aren't they beautiful? I think that might be my favourite part of winning tournaments." Roger led the way into the apartment, showing Stéphane around the sparsely furnished place.
He set Stéphane's bag in his room, then shrugged out of his jacket and sweater. "Do you want to ease into this?"
Stéphane let his eyes travel over Roger's body, taking in the tight t-shirt and form fitting jeans before meeting Roger's gaze. "If we ease into it, I might just run."
"I won't let you," Roger murmured, closing the distance between them and sliding his hands over Stéphane's chest.
Stéphane sighed and touched Roger's waist, smiling as his heart started to race. "Am I dreaming?"
"No, unless you've somehow managed to pull me into your dream too," Roger murmured, leaning in and kissing Stéphane. He slid his hands down Stéphane's chest and under the edge of his shirt, lifting it over his head. "So beautiful," Roger murmured, bending to lick over Stéphane's neck and continue to his nipples.
Stéphane shuddered and grabbed Roger's shoulders. "Gonna fall," he mumbled. Roger shifted them and lowered Stéphane to the bed before continuing to lick and kiss Stéphane's chest. He pulled back long enough to toss his own shirt aside and kick his pants off. When he went back to nipping his way over Stéphane's body, he also started to work at removing Stéphane's pants. Finally they were completely naked.
Roger sat up and looked down at Stéphane, smiling. "Absolutely beautiful."
"Yes, you are," Stéphane replied, reaching up to run his fingers over Roger's chest. "So beautiful."
Roger rolled his eyes and reached over, grabbing a bottle of lube and a handful of condoms. "Which way do you want it?"
"I don't care..." Stéphane started, then shook his head. "No, I want you in me."
"We can do that." He scooted down Stéphane's body and sucked at the base of his cock while spreading some lube on his fingers before pushing them into the other Swiss. Stéphane shouted and arched up as Roger immediately began thrusting his fingers. Roger smiled and kept at it, sucking on his balls as he stroked his cock with his free hand.
After some time had passed, Roger pulled back and put the condom on before positioning himself. "Stéphane? Are you ready for this?"
"Please, Roger, fuck me," Stéphane begged, wiggling around as he tried to take Roger in. "Please?"
Roger chuckled and pushed in slowly, taking his time as he thrust his hips forward. He kept rocking until he was fully buried in Stéphane. "Oh..." he gasped, bracing himself against the other man.
"Roger, move!"
"Demanding, aren't we?" Roger smiled when Stéphane glared up at him.
Stéphane flipped him off, then purposely clenched his inner muscles as he lifted his legs to wrap them around Roger's neck. "Do you have any idea how flexible I am, Roger?"
Roger groaned as Stéphane pulled him closer, just using his legs. "Exactly how flexible are you?"
"Flexible enough to... well, would you rather me tell you or show you?"
Roger's eyes widened as Stéphane practically folded himself in half to drag his tongue over Roger's stomach. He shuddered and thrust his hips. "Oh God... are you telling me you could fuck me and suck me at the same time?"
"Absolutely. So if you'd fuck me already, I'd show you."
Roger grinned and pushed Stéphane back to his back before he started thrusting deeply into him. He alternated between pounding into him and moving slowly, but the whole time was moving in Stéphane, he kept his hand clenched around Stéphane's cock, preventing him from going over the edge.
Stéphane swore loudly when Roger's body stiffened and Roger shouted his name. "Bastard! Evil, cruel bastard!"
Roger finished shuddering and slipped out of Stéphane, bending over to kiss the head of his cock before slipping a condom over it. "Fuck me now." He grinned and flopped to his back.
Stéphane chuckled and grabbed a second condom, slipping the old one off Roger and tossing it towards the garbage can as he picked up the lube. He prepared Roger quickly, then pushed into him. He thrust his hips slowly, smiling as Roger started swearing at him. He knew he was probably torturing the slightly older man, but he was enjoying the reactions he was getting.
He waited until he knew Roger couldn't take it anymore before he bent over and sucked Roger into his mouth. It was harder to keep moving from this position, but he managed it. Roger tangled his fingers in Stéphane's hair and screamed Stéphane's name again. Stéphane shuddered and thrust one last time into Roger coming so hard he nearly blacked out. He slumped on top of Roger, breathing heavily. "Roger?"
"You okay, Stéphane?" Roger asked, rubbing his hand up and down Stéphane's back.
"I'm very, very good. Do I have to move?"
Roger chuckled and shifted them so that he and Stéphane were facing each other. "No, you can stay right here as long as you need to."
Stéphane smiled and snuggled in, licking a wet path over Roger's collar bone to suck at his neck. "Good."
Hours later -- after several more sex sessions --, Stéphane yawned and lifted his head. He reached out, feeling nothing but cool sheets under his hand. "Roger?"
When there was no answer, Stéphane sat up and glanced around. He was definitely in the other Swiss' house. Stéphane smiled at the sight of two identical swords leaning in a corner and a series of ship-shaped trophies lining a shelf. He tilted his head and giggled at the stuffed kangaroo that was perched precariously on top of the swords.
"Roger?" he called again, wincing at the feel of sticky, dried cum covering his stomach. He scraped at the itchy spots, nose curling up as bits flaked off to the sheets below. He sighed and stood, wondering where exactly Roger had gone. He grabbed a clean pair of underwear from his bag and headed into the bathroom. Glancing around, he set his underwear on the sink basin and sighed. He was tempted to snoop, but didn't want to risk making Roger angry. He stepped into the shower and turned on the hot water, sighing as it began relaxing sore muscles.
He smiled, thinking about why his muscles were so sore. Roger had loved his flexibleness and they'd found several different positions to try. Not only that, but Roger had enjoyed fucking him -- not that Stéphane minded, he was used to being on top and not on the bottom, but his preference definitely laid in being fucked. He turned, letting out a yelp. "Where..."
"Who are you?"
"Uh... I... Stéphane."
"And you're who exactly?"
"A..."
"Stéphane, I thought that... Andy. What are you doing here?"
Stéphane watched as the dark-blonde head turned towards Roger, murder in his gaze. "I came to surprise my lover. I canceled Vegas. I'm not up to playing tennis right now. John agreed. Who the fuck is this asshole?"
"Stéphane Lambiel." Roger grabbed a towel and held it out to Stéphane, then held one out to Andy. "You're the one who wanted an open relationship so you could fuck your Fish when I'm not around."
Stéphane sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Andy. I will leave as soon as I've finished my shower. I didn't know... he didn't say..."
Andy glanced at Stéphane. "Yeah. Good idea."
"Andy!"
"No, Roger! Jesus, do you want to be with me or not?"
Roger sighed and looked away. "I do, but you can't have it both ways, Andy. You can't have it so that you can fuck whoever you wish, and I have to be celibate unless I'm with you."
"I'm not asking for that!"
Stéphane closed the shower curtain and finished washing himself, listening to the muted sounds of Andy and Roger's argument. He rinsed off with a sigh. "Too good to be true," he murmured to himself, picking up a towel. Apparently the argument had moved back into the bedroom. He dried off and tugged on his boxers, leaning against the sink. "Am I supposed to stay in here while they have make up sex?"
"Or you could poke your head into the room and see that Andy's left," Roger said softly.
Stéphane yelped and turned. "He left? I'm sorry."
"We've... decided to take a break." Roger sighed and entered the room, glancing at himself in the mirror. "Please, don't feel guilty for this. It would've happened eventually -- though it probably would've been me going to his place and finding one of his friends in his shower."
"So, I'm just..." Stéphane shakes his head. "You don't have to explain yourself, Roger. I'm happy I got to have you. I should head back to Torino anyhow."
Roger let out a distressed noise and grabbed Stéphane. "I don't want you to leave! For the first time in ages I felt like... I felt like I mattered! Not like I was just being used as a fuck toy. I love Andy, I can't deny that. But... he's so... he's disturbed and I swear, half the time he only fucks me so he can say he's topped me in something." He leaned down, kissing Stéphane hard enough that it hurt. "I want you. More than I've wanted anything in a long time, and I really wish you'd stay... though I understand if you feel you have to leave."
Roger stepped back and hung his head. "I'm going to head to the kitchen. We both need to eat and if you are leaving, I don't want your coach coming after me for not feeding you while I was helping you to hide from the press."
Watching in the mirror as Roger left, Stéphane sighed pushed away from the sink, heading back into the bedroom. He tugged on a loose pair of track pants and a button down shirt which he left half unbuttoned. He found Roger and sat across from him. "Why is the kangaroo balanced on the swords?"
Roger laughed. "I didn't know where else to put him. Though I loved getting the cup again, I think I liked my stuffed animal more. But, I didn't want to place him on the bed, because that seemed too... girlish. So, until I can find a good place to put him, he stays with the swords. I don't know what to do with those either. I think I'm running out of room."
Stéphane giggled and nudged Roger under the table with his bare foot. "If only every other athlete had the same problem."
Roger blushed. "Sorry."
"It's okay. I won silver at the Olympics." Stéphane grinned when Roger looked up. "I'm feeling rather proud of myself right now."
"You've done better than I have at the Olympics. I've played in two Olympics and no medals."
"Well... that sucks."
"It does. But, in 2012, they'll be in England, which means grass, which means I'll have an excellent shot at winning gold."
"Don't get too cocky. That's been many men's downfalls."
Roger nodded. "I prefer to think of it as confidence, but you are right. I'll try to be better."
Stéphane giggled and looked around the kitchen. "This is very clean. I thought you were making food."
Roger held up a portable phone. "I called for take out. That's my version of cooking."
Both men laughed, then grew serious. Stéphane glanced at the top of the table where Roger's fingers were tapping out some indefinable rhythm. "So... this thing with you and Andy? Is it over or..."
"I don't know. I never know with Andy." Roger started picking at his nails and he sighed. "What I do know is I'd like to spend the next couple of days with you, not discussing Andy or my relationship with him. I want to go for walks with you, go to sleep with you, get to know you better. I know I can't really promise you anything beyond these few days -- for one, our schedules are completely out of sync, but also because of my relationship with Andy, but I really do want to get to know you better -- if you're agreeable."
"I would like nothing more. But I don't want to come between you and your boyfriend."
"You won't. If Andy holds this against me, then that's his problem. He's the one who's cheated on me for years, not the other way around. You are the first man other than him I've been with since he and I got together. Hell, you're only the second man I've ever had sex with." Roger shrugged and glanced down at his fingers.
Stéphane reached over, covering Roger's hands with his own. "That's.... I'm honoured."
Roger chuckled and shook his head. "I just meant... Andy doesn't have the right to be angry with me."
Stéphane nodded and stood up, moving around the table and sitting on Roger's lap. He was just small enough that he knew he wouldn't squash the older Swiss. "I'll stay on one condition."
"Yes?"
"Yes. That we don't discuss Andy anymore. That means you don't even think about him while I'm here."
Roger smiled and nodded, wrapping his arms around the smaller man. "Andy who?"
"Better." Stéphane leaned in, kissing Roger. He wiggled a little on Roger's lap. "I want you again."
"You've got me... but we have to wait until the food's been delivered. It should be here any..." the doorbell interrupted the last of his sentence and Roger and Stéphane both laughed. Stéphane stood up and moved back to the other chair as Roger went to go get their food.
After they ate, Roger convinced Stéphane to get dressed and they went for a walk around the quiet neighbourhood. "Don't you get bothered?" Stéphane asked, huddling into his warm coat.
"No. My neighbours know who I am and they leave me alone for the most part. Occasionally, I'll get some of the children coming to watch me practice, but other than that, I'm left to my own devices. It's actually rather nice. In America when I'd go... well, let's just say that the more famous athletes there have a hard time staying away from the public eye."
"I would imagine." Stéphane smiled and tucked his hand into Roger's. "No thinking about him."
"About who?" Roger asked, trying to look innocent and giving up to giggle. "I'm sorry. It's hard."
"I understand. Okay, let's move on. New topic, the Winter Olympics. Besides me, who have you been watching?"
"The snowboarding is fun. I love the skiing, especially moguls, though I don't know that I could do that. Personally, I'm more of a downhill skier."
"Have you ever figure skated?"
"I'm not very good at it." Roger grinned. "I do love to watch though. You in particular, but the American's rather cute as well."
"Which one? Evan Lysacek? Or Johnny Weir?"
"Johnny Weir. Is he..."
"I don't know for sure." Stéphane laughed and shrugged. "I think, but... I never would've guessed you were gay, so my judgment isn't the best."
Roger grinned and pulled Stéphane down the road. "Would you like to go figure skating? Just for the fun of it?"
"Yeah." Stéphane nodded and they headed back to Roger's place, grabbing his skates and Stéphane's before heading to a nearby rink.
After skating they head for dinner, eating quietly.
They spend the next few days just hanging out and having sex. Finally, their visit was over though. Roger walked through the airport with Stéphane. He hugged him one last time and kissed Stéphane's cheek. "You'll call me?"
"Of course." Stéphane smiled and slid his hand down Roger's arm. "Good luck in your tournament. I'll be cheering for you."
Roger glanced towards the gates and sighed. "I don't want you to go."
"I have to go. I have to go back and do the Gala thing." Stéphane looked around, then leaned in and kissed Roger. "I wish I could go with you to the tennis tournaments."
"I'm not going to say goodbye."
"Good." Stéphane sighed, then glanced up as his flight was called. "I have to go."
"Don't... be careful."
"You too. You're the one who has tennis balls flying at his head."
Roger nodded and hugged Stéphane again. "Call me."
"I promise." Stéphane watched as Roger headed out of the airport and he sighed before turning to head through the gates.
The End