Work Text:
Roger Federer was nervous. It didn't happen all that often, actually you could count the number of times on one hand. The time he asked Mirka to be the mother of his children and keep his secret, the day he confessed his feelings to Rafa and the day the kids were born. Well, Roger thought, we can add today to that list.
The tennis maestro was on his way to the awards ceremony for Indian Wells, where hopefully he would be presenting the trophy to his greatest rival and longtime boyfriend, Rafael Nadal. To Rafa, the man who had captured his heart nearly 20 years ago and had kept it ever since.
Roger was sitting in his private jet, flying over the Atlantic. The food was great, the flight was as smooth as it could get, and the views outside the window were breathtaking, yet he wasn't happy.
He hadn't spoken to Rafa in nearly 2 weeks, their last conversation ending in a huge blowout fight that made the 21 time grandslam champion give him the silent treatment. And Roger knew he completely deserved his love's anger, even though it left him feeling like someone had ripped his heart straight out from his chest.
_______________
~~ 2 weeks ago ~~
They had met for coffee. It was mid-day in Mexico, the harsh equatorial weather almost burning the Swiss' pale complexion. Rafa, as always, looked like he belonged there, a creature of wide open beaches and infinite sunshine to his core.
He had brought Charlene and Myla along because they kept insisting that they missed their Uncle Rafa. The drinks had been ordered and delivered by the time the Spaniard arrived, but Roger was used to his boyfriend's terrible sense of time. The twins sat across from him, nearly vibrating with excitement, a constant stream of whispers ongoing. Roger closed his eyes and let himself enjoy the moment
The girls noticed him before he did, the other side of the table going silent for a second before there was a flurry of action. Myla jumped off her chair, Charlene close behind her, and they ran towards the younger man who had just arrived.
Roger rose immediately after he saw the girls run away and stopped them before they did something untoward like hug Rafa. They were in public after all.
The girls restrained themselves to just waving at the Spaniard, grins permanently painted on their faces. If Roger had been looking at his boyfriend's face at that moment, he would have seen the quick flash of heartbreak in Rafa's eyes before it was hidden away.
As it was, Roger and Rafa shared a quick hug, far too short for either of their tastes, Rafa pressing a quick kiss on the side of his neck in the process and settled on opposite sides of the table. The girls sat between them, their quick chatter and palpable excitement making the time fly by in a haze of warm laughter and good company.
If you had asked him later what they had talked about during coffee, he wouldn't have been able to tell you. What he could tell you was the long line of Rafa's neck as he threw his head back in laughter, his bronze skin a beautiful contrast to the vibrant blue sky. He could tell you about the absolute adoration in his daughters' eyes as they looked at the man he loved. He could tell you about the gentle voice the Spaniard always used while talking to them, low and sweet without being condescending. He could tell you about the things that mattered.
The coffee got over far too soon, the girls' nanny arriving to take them back to the hotel. The Federer family was due to fly back to Switzerland the same day, their trip to Acapulco a spontaneous last minute decision not entirely thought through. Rafa got up from his chair the moment the twins were about to leave and called them back.
He bent down after taking a quick look around, making sure no one was looking, and pressed a kiss on both their foreheads. Myla and Charlene both stood extremely still, their young minds just recently capable of understanding that this meant Rafa didn't know when he'd be able to see them next. He stood back up and gave them one last smile before handing them over to their nanny's care. The smile lasted all throughout waving them goodbye, but Roger could see the glimmer of unshed tears on his boyfriend's face. It caused his own eyes to mist a little.
"Come, Rafa, let's take a walk together,"
The Spaniard gave him a confused look, but started walking beside him.
"Don't you have to go too?" He hid it well, but Roger could hear the slight pain in his voice.
"Not for a while, no. I wanted to spend some time with you, so I told Mirka to take the girls, and I'll take a later flight out,"
A bright grin blossomed on Rafa's face at those words, so beautiful that it almost put that perfect day to shame.
"There's something I need to talk to you though," Rafa made an absent minded affirmative sound.
"What you did with the girls today… That can't happen again, Raf. Not in public," The joy on the Spaniard's face drained away so fast Roger wondered if it was ever there in the first place.
"They my children too, Roger. Cannot expect me to not show my love,"
"I'm not asking you to not love them, Rafa. But out here anybody might see, might get the wrong idea," Roger wasn't liking this conversation at all, knowing in his heart that what Rafa was saying was right. He had been too blind to see it then.
"What wrong idea, Rogelio? Is right idea, no? Is exactly as they might think, we together, yes?"
"They cannot know. Think of the kids, of Mirka and Xisca, hell think of the sponsors! We've had this discussion before," Roger was getting tired, but Rafa just seemed to get more animated at the words.
"Si, and never have I agreed with you. Why we cannot tell the truth? We at top, Roger. If we no do this, then nobody can,"
"You're not seeing reason, Rafa,"
"No, it is you who not see. I want to hug the girls, Rogelio. I want to pick them up and tell them stories and, and… They my kids too," Rafa ran out of steam in the middle of his statement, voice dropping into a low and defeated tone.
"You're acting immature. You agreed that this was for the best, for both of us and for Mirka and Xisca," Roger could see the anger return to the Spaniard's face.
"Mirka always agree with me about this. Xisca never want to do this in first place. And me? I act immature? It is you who scared, Federer," Roger flinched at the sound of his last name from his boyfriend's lips, in a voice that held none of its previous affection.
"You act like coward, when you don't know why you hide. The fans, they will support us, you know they will. And Nike and Uniqlo would be idiots to let us go for such stupid thing,"
Roger didn't say anything, still adamant in his views, still thinking that going public would do more harm than good.
"You know what? I done talking about this. I'm going now, I have final to play tomorrow," With that Rafa turned around and walked away.
"No, Raf, wait!" The younger man stilled at his partner's voice.
"What happens now?" Rafa turned around from where he was standing near the entrance, and the look of determination mixed with the deep sadness in his eyes would haunt Roger's dreams for days to come.
"I said what I want to say, Roger. Is upto you now. The ball is in your court," After having said his piece Rafa walked away without turning back, the Swiss too stunned to stop him that time.
_____________
Roger hadn't spoken to his lover since that day. He had wandered around the house moping, till Mirka had gotten tired of his attitude and sat him down for a conversation.
"Roger, this has got to stop. What happened between you and Rafa?"
"What makes you think something happened with me and Rafa?" The Swiss didn't think he'd been that obvious.
"I've known you for 22 years, Roger. I know. That and Rafa has been calling me instead of you whenever he wants to talk the kids,"
"You've been talking to Rafa? How does— Does he sound alright?"
"He is sad, Roger. It is quite apparent to me. So I ask you again, what did you do to that poor man?" Roger sighed and dropped his head into his hands.
"He… He doesn't want to hide anymore, Mirka. He wants to tell the world, but we can't, we can't. The kids will be hounded even more than they already are. And the sponsors…"
"These are all excuses, Roger, and you know it. Why are you so against this? The kids will deal with it, as they always have. And having their father with them means so much more than whatever the press will throw at them. And the sponsors should not have an influence on your decision. If Uniqlo pulls out, which I'm pretty sure they won't, there will always be others,"
Roger remained stone faced throughout Mirka's little speech, his eyes hard and betraying no emotion.
"So what are you trying to say? That I should just go out and declare my love to the whole world?" He meant for it to come out sarcastic, but Mirka could hear the raw hope hidden underneath. Roger wanted this, he wanted it desperately, but he was letting his fears hold him back.
"If for no other reason, do it for Rafa. Doesn't he deserve to be with his boyfriend in public? Doesn't he deserve to have you sit in his box and cheer for him at his games? Don't you think he wants to do the same for you?" At Rafa's name, Roger's mask cracked and tears slipped out of his eyes.
"Be brave, Roger. You both want this, so go be a man and do it, for both of your sakes,"
Roger sat in silence for 2 minutes, the internal battle raging in his head reflected clearly in his watering eyes. Finally, when he turned towards Mirka, she could see the familiar fire in him that had made her follow him around the world for years.
"Can you get the jet ready for me? I need to get to California,"
____________
~~ Present ~~
The sound of the 'Put seatbelt on' announcement drew Roger out of his reminiscing. He'd spent the 14 hour flight brushing up on the surprise he'd been planning for Rafa for months. It was supposed to be a present for their 11 year anniversary, but he knew that this was a far better moment for it.
The plane landed and Roger was through security in no time, familiar with the routine after a lifetime spent travelling. It was a perfect day in California, eerily similar to the one in Acapulco that had started the path which led him to California. The sky was a vibrant blue, without a cloud in sight, and Roger found himself smiling against his will. Indian Wells had always reminded him of Rafa.
The finals had already started when he landed in America, and he spent the ride from the airport watching it live on his mobile screen in the backseat of a small, discreet car. Mirka had called the tournament director when he was in the air, and they were all too happy to allow him to present the trophy at the end of the tournament.
By the time he arrived at centre court, it was clear Rafa was going to win. He knew it, the crowd, which was going wild, also knew it, and so did his opponent. The Spaniard had been unstoppable that day.
Roger was met by the tournament director at one of the side entrances to the arena and led inside, away from prying eyes. He watched from the thankfully empty player's lounge as Rafa won, the Spaniard falling to his knees. The smile on his face could light up the whole city. He looked like the champion he was born to be, and Roger felt overwhelmed with pride, one so fierce it threatened to burst out of his chest.
He could barely keep himself still long enough for someone from the administration to come and fetch him. When a woman with an ID around her neck finally came to lead him to the tunnel, he was almost vibrating with anticipation. This was it. The moment that decided his future.
He could hear the tournament director's voice the closer he got to centre court.
"—and to present the trophy to our winner, we have a special guest tonight. 20 time grandslam winner and probably Rafa Nadal's biggest rival, please welcome Roger Federer!"
Roger walked into the arena to thunderous applause, but his eyes were fixated on only one person. His Rafa. His Rafa who looked confused and a little hurt, with a dash of hope barely visible behind those beautiful brown eyes.
The Swiss smiled at his boyfriend confidently, and walked over to take the trophy from the director's hands before taking the mic.
"Hi," The crowd went wild at his greeting, cheering and clapping at the unexpected surprise.
"I'd like to say a few words, if that's ok with you guys," The audience roared their approval.
"A few words to Rafa, who has been my greatest rival on court, and one of my best friend's off it. But very few people know he's so much more than that to me," Roger turned around and looked Rafa straight in the eyes as he continued.
"Rafa, pensé mucho en cómo decir esto y pensé que lo mejor sería decirlo en tu lengua materna." Rafa gasped a little at the sound of his mother tongue coming from his boyfriend's heavily accented voice. He hadn't known Roger was learning Spanish.
"Tenías razón. Fui un cobarde. Tenía miedo, miedo de ser juzgado, miedo de que las cosas cambiaran como siempre han sido. Pero luego Mirka me recordó que no se trata solo de mí, también de ti. Rafa, eres el amor de mi vida, superado solo por mis hijos en mi corazón. Y te mereces el mundo. Te mereces una pareja que te adore y no tenga miedo de mostrar ese amor al mundo. Probablemente merezcas un hombre mejor que yo, pero estás atrapado conmigo, así que voy a ser ese hombre." Roger had tears running down his face, and Rafa wasn't far behind.
"No me esconderé más. Te amo. Ya no tengo miedo."
The crowd had gone deathly silent as people scrambled to translate what was being said. The lack of sound was deafening.
Roger's heart was beating way too fast as he waited for his boyfriend to pass the verdict. He didn't know how Rafa was going to react, if he would respond positively to his gesture, but the Swiss hoped. He was a romantic man in the end.
He received his response when Rafa walked over to him. The Spaniard took his trophy, kissed it, and immediately put it down on the table before turning back towards Roger. There was a split second of hesitation before Rafa grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and yanked him into a kiss.
_____________
Time seemed to slow down. The kiss was far from perfect, their angle was off and both their faces were covered in tears. But it was exactly what both of them needed in that moment. It was soft and unbearingly sweet, Roger pouring apologies into every slide of his lips and Rafa returning his affection with forgiveness.
The kiss ended soon enough. The crowd, which had been silent this whole time went absolutely crazy, hollering and cheering for 2 of the greatest players of their sport.
Roger could barely hear the shouting though, completely lost in Rafa's deep brown eyes that shined back at him in pure happiness.
"I'm so sorry, liebchen. I was an idiot," Roger whispered, needing to say it out loud at least once.
Rafa's grin got impossibly wider and softened immediately, the look on his face showing pure contentment. It was one of Roger's favourite sights in the world.
"I know. It's ok though, you're my idiot," Saying that Rafa pulled Roger back towards himself.
They stayed like that, arms around each other, surrounded by thunderous applause and a clear blue sky as the world watched on.