Archive of Our Own

Tuesday

It wasn’t just a tennis tournament. It was a fully organized event to show how Saudi Arabia could put on the perfect exhibition. Andrey felt like part of a real-life commercial. Of course, he read that people weren’t happy about the country the exhibition took place in. Sometimes he hoped people wouldn’t have so many expectations of how he should behave, what he should say and do, or what he shouldn’t. 

Daniil and Karen were already waiting for him when he arrived at the gala. Andrey could smell the food that was placed on a gigantic buffet. Hopefully, the interview and photo things wouldn’t take long. He was… hungry. And the food smelled delicious.

“So, what's your excuse today?”

Amused, Daniil stepped closer and eyed Andrey's outfit. 

“Excuse for what?”

“Your lack of a suit.”

Andrey looked down at himself. He liked the white sweater, it looked neat enough to wear on official occasions, but at the same time, it had become his safety sweater. It felt like slipping on a protective shield. And Nastja had said when he put the Save the children necklace over it; it looked cute and appropriate.

(Sometimes, he was glad that people knew so little about his private life. He had no interest in explaining to anyone that although he and Nastja were no longer in a romantic relationship, he never missed an opportunity to spam his now best friend with unnecessary questions. Especially about dress code emergencies.)

“Nastja said I can go like this,” Andrey said quietly, making Daniil laugh. 

“Of course, you can go like this”  Daniil grabbed Andrey's necklace and pulled it a little until it was precisely in the middle. “I just wanted to hear what excuse you would give me today.” “Honestly? I was too lazy to bring a suit with me.” 

“Sure,” Daniil giggled but didn’t say anything else. “Let’s go. I hope we get something to eat soon. I am starving.”

Andrey’s gaze wandered through the ambiance. Sascha was talking to a man Andrey didn’t know (wearing a nice suit, of course). Stefanos was also running around, always keeping some distance from Daniil, which was so silly. The way they kept space between them would give them even more attention. But Andrey had tried to talk to Daniil about it once, and Daniil only answered that Andrey shouldn’t worry - he and Stefanos knew what they were doing. Andrey wasn’t sure about that, but he also didn’t want to know more details about their relationship. 

He spotted Cameron Norrie and Nick Kyrgios, both not the people he wanted to see. 

Where was he? He knew he was already there; he got a message only a short time ago asking when Andrey would arrive at the gala venue.

“Have you seen Domi?” he asked his friends.

“Domi?”
“Domi, yes. Dominic Thiem.”

Karen looked like he was going to burst out laughing at any moment. 

“Thank you for pointing that out, Andryusha. I thought you wanted to talk to Dominic Stricker.” Karen rolled his eyes. “Imagine, we are familiar with Domi . But I have to say; I am a bit disappointed in you. We haven't seen each other since Paris, but you don’t care about me at all.” Karen grimaced theatrically but couldn't hold it and began to grin.

“Oh, shut up,” Andrey stuck out his tongue. But before anyone else could add something, he heard his name.

“Andrey!”

Andrey knew that voice. He could pick it out from any crowd.

He looked again at his white sweater and smoothed the fabric a bit. His necklace was in the right place, thanks to Daniil. Andrey was about to brush through his hair when Domi suddenly stood before him.

“Hi, Andrey” 

“Hi,” Andrey answered breathlessly. 

“Hi,” Domi said again.

For a moment, they just smiled at each other. 

Domi’s smile was Andrey’s cure for everything. Was it embarrassing Andrey had a collection of photos and Gifs on his phone - all showing a smiling and happy Domi? Just in case? 

Completely lost in thoughts, it took him a moment to hear Daniil's cough. Andrey was still looking at Domi, but he could feel the expectant looks of his friends behind him.

What should he say next? Couldn’t Karen give him a script? 

The last time they had talked about the… Domi situation, Karen suggested Andrey should flirt with him. Like Andrey had any idea about how to flirt with someone. 

He felt a hand on his back and realized Daniil was pushing him a little forward.

“I am glad you also decided that there is no need for a suit,” he finally said and giggled. Domi looked at them and started laughing too. “Looks like we had the same idea of dressing.”  And he was right; they looked matched. 

Domi was wearing a white sweater similar to Andrey’s, and he was smiling like the little Christmas angel Nastja had put into Andrey’s apartment some years ago (ignoring his lack of interest in Christmas or decoration, but Andrey had to admit he now put the angel carefully on his kitchen table every December). There was no need to add that Domi looked cute .

Before they could say something else, a woman came up to the group.

“Mr. Thiem, could you please follow us? We'd like to record another brief interview.”

As soon as Domi was out of reach, Daniil and Karen chuckled loudly.

“Hi, Andrey.”

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

You could barely hear the words between their laughter.

“Oh, shut up” Andrey rolled his eyes. It hasn’t been that bad. And it was no secret he was a very awkward person, especially around Domi. What did they expect?

Even though Andrey was starving, it took a while before he finally made his way toward the buffet. He walked up and down the tables, carefully thinking about what to eat. 

Finally, he made his way toward the players' tables with his plate, which was slightly overfilled. A little indecisively, he stopped in the middle and thought about where exactly he should go.

“Do you want to join us?” Domi pointed to the free chair at his table. Next to him, Sascha was already chewing on something. There was only Domi's team at the table otherwise. Sascha and Domi’s team. That should work. 

Wasn't that precisely what he wanted? To sit close to Domi and talk to him for the rest of the evening? To have the opportunity to look at him without being too obvious?

His gaze glided over the other tables and stopped at Karen. Andrey looked over at him a little helplessly. Daniil and Karen probably expected him to sit with them. But Karen only nodded and gestured something Andrey couldn’t understand. But that wasn’t necessary. Karen’s voice in his head was clear and loud; You are such a scaredy cat. How will you ever make any progress if you keep running away?

So Andrey took one deep breath and slid into the vacant seat. He could do that. It was only dinner. Domi asked him to sit there. Nothing awkward. 

“Today, no shrimp with cappuccino?” Sascha giggled and inspected the food on Andrey's plate.

“What a funny man you are, Alexander Zverev,” Andrey answered dryly.

“I know,” Sascha replied matter-of-factly, which made Domi giggle too. Maybe Andrey should add audio files to his Domi collection. Some ASMR material.

“Was this actually true?” Domi asked then and looked at Andrey expectantly.

“Of course not,” Andrey said, maybe a bit too harsh. Why was everyone so interested in his eating habits? 

“I wouldn’t mind, though; sometimes I eat french fries with ice cream, and people look at me like I am crazy, but it’s amazing!”

“Fries with ice cream? Why would anyone eat that voluntarily? I didn’t know your taste is even worse than Andrey’s,” Sascha teased them.

“It’s really good. I promise! You have to try it!”

“I will definitely not try something like that,” Sascha frowned, probably already disgusted by the idea.

“And you, Andrey? Give me a chance, please!”

“Okay, okay,” Andrey giggled. It likely wouldn't have mattered what Domi suggested. Andrey would probably have said yes to everything. But fries with ice cream… he had eaten worse; he could survive that if it made Domi happy.

“It’s a deal then. We go and eat fries with ice cream!” Domi exclaimed, a little bit too loud for Andrey because the people around them turned their heads a little toward the noise. Maybe Andrey should expect another article about his weird eating habits.

“You may like shrimp with cappuccino or fries with ice cream, but I prefer real food. So do excuse me. I will go to the buffet while you can continue planning your date .”

“It’s not a…” Andrey started but didn’t finish. Maybe it was a date? And he didn’t realize? It’s not like he was good at conversation. Maybe Domi meant it exactly like that.

But Domi was staring at his plate, cheeks blushing, and rapidly cutting some vegetables. Sascha left the table with the plate in his hand and ruffled Andrey’s hair while he passed him. Should he say something? But Domi’s eyes didn’t leave the table. 

Why was everything so complicated?

Wednesday

Karen sighed. Loudly and theatrically. He had been directed to a chair in the front row, giving him a perfect view of the players in front of him. Or better, the chaos going on. Sometimes being an alternate was the better position. He could just sit there and enjoy the evening while the others were awkwardly placed next to each other. Getting eyed by everyone else. 

It was already mid-December, and Andrey still was single, which Karen called an achievement, and not one to be proud of. Why was it so hard for that boy to make a move? 

Why couldn’t he get his shit together? It shouldn’t be that difficult. Domi was utterly gone for Andrey. Everyone could see that (well, everyone but Andrey). Karen didn’t think he would ever agree with Alexander Zverev, but Sascha was similarly annoyed by now.

And if Andrey and Domi weren't enough, Stefanos and Daniil were also competing to become the most childish couple of the year. You could be sure they were always staring in different directions, always turning to the side, so nobody could catch them interacting. Not even a moment of eye contact. Earlier in the hotel, Andrey had asked Daniil if they had a fight, but he had only received a somewhat irritated look in response. 

“What do you think: Will Domi and Andrey get their shit together this weekend?” Grigor suddenly whispered into Karen’s ear. Karen didn’t even realize that Grigor had arrived and was now sitting next to him. 

“Well, not without us helping them,” he answered. If there was one thing he had learned in the last few months, the last year , it was that Andrey Rublev was very good at doing nothing. He was now an expert in pining from afar, and Domi wasn’t any better. 

Things were bad when even Grigor noticed something was going on (or, rather, not going on).

“What’s the plan then?” Grigor asked.

“There are no more plans,” Karen finally said after a moment of consideration.

“What do you mean?" Grigor turned his head and looked over at him skeptically.

“Everything we've thought of and tried so far has been useless. Maybe we should give Andrey a sign saying - Hi Domi, I like you. Can I kiss you? -  or something like that. And even then: Domi probably wouldn't see it immediately, so Andrey would run away in panic. If I am being honest, I don’t know what to do anymore. They should have been fucking their brains out since Paris. What am I saying; since Rome.” 

Karen sighed. Actually, since last year, but Andrey insisted that Domi should work on his comeback first, as tennis was the most important thing, and personal love came second. Karen disagreed but was wise enough not to start that argument with Andrey Rublev out of all people.

“So you need help?” Grigor chuckled. “Someone with a bit more experience ?”

“I don’t want to know what kind of experience you are referring to. But I am always open to suggestions.”
“Watching millions of American rom-coms, of course.”
“Sure,” Karen giggled.

“Tell me about some of your failed attempts so I can think what else we can do.”

"I told Andrey to flirt with Domi. Do you know what happened then? He invited Domi to Barcelona to train together. I meant flirting, not training! I should have given Andrey a dictionary. Nastja only laughed at me and said if I wanted them to go on a proper date, I'd have to organize it myself.” 

Karen threw his hands in the air and made wild gestures while he told Grigor about his failed attempts at giving flirt advice. 

“In New York, I told Andrey he should invite Domi to one of the million concerts he was going to. He told me he wasn’t sure if Domi liked the music and didn’t want Domi to think he had bad music taste. How could you even think that? If someone has bad taste in music, it’s Domi with his boybands - but don’t tell Andrey. He will give you a talk about why it’s lovely that Domi doesn’t care about other people's opinions and just listens to whatever he wants. When you ask me, there were enough reasons why they should have gone at least to Harry Styles together. But no, my favorite coward went to the concerts with his best friend Nastja, and I am not even sure Domi knows she is only a friend.”

Not that Domi seemed any better, even though his brain wasn’t made 100% out of tennis balls like Andrey’s. Karen remembered Andrey’s sad, longing expression when he saw Domi’s pictures of the Christmas market in Vienna all too well.  Probably dreaming about buying Domi every gingerbread heart available, every plushie, every cheesy thing you could find (and vehemently rejecting something for himself, of course).

Grigor's gaze wandered over the players in front of him. While they were talking, the draw had been completed. Domi would have to win some matches to meet Andrey. Unfortunately. Or was that actually better?

“I have to think about it. Let’s talk tomorrow at breakfast.” Grigor finally said after staring some more time at the group of players. 

“And what about the others? Aren’t Daniil and Stefanos a couple anymore?” Skeptically, Grigor eyed the safe distance the two kept. Someone had placed them next to each other, but Daniil had moved closer to Andrey throughout the evening. If you looked closely (or, as in Karen's case, knew all of Stefanos's suffering facial expressions), neither were happy about it.

“Yes, they are; they're just completely childish in a different way. Those two are panicking that their relationship will become public.” As if that would change anything. They were already the center of tennis twitter anyway. Grigor looked as if he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. In other words, the same way Karen felt.

“Wow, the ATP tour really is a love disaster, isn’t it?” Grigor sighed.

Thursday

Domi lost against Sascha, Sascha lost against Daniil, and Andrey lost against Stan. Those were the most important results of the day, at least from Andrey's point of view. Maybe he should think a little more about how he lost his match by himself in the second set. Instead, he anxiously held his phone and stared at the tiny graphics someone posted on Twitter. 

Initially, he had wanted to know if there were any clips from Domi's match. Andrey wanted to see if he had been unlucky, which happened in tie breaks. Or whether Sascha had deserved to win despite a long injury break. But as happened so often, Andrey had gone from one tweet to the next. 

“Do you know who you're playing doubles with tomorrow?” Karen looked up from his own phone. Andrey shook his head. “Not officially. But in this graphic, it looks like I have to play with Nick. I hope it’s wrong. I will play with anyone, but please, not him.” 

Andrey's voice became quieter and quieter, almost pleading, and he stared desperately at Karen. There was no need to say it loudly, but Nick Kyrgios made him nervous. Andrey really didn’t want to remember the last time he shared the court with him.

“Maybe you should wait until they make it official. There are many possibilities, and most of them are fine. Of course, you would say one particular option is better than the others, but the rest should be okay.”

Andrey sighed. Karen was right. Twitter wasn’t always correct.

“You are right… Do you think they’ll let me play with Domi?” Andrey tried to sound as casual as possible, but even he could notice his voice was slightly higher than usual. 

Karen raised an eyebrow and looked at him, amused. “Are you sure you could actually play with Domi by your side?” He giggled, probably imagining the two next to each other on the court.

“Of course!” Andrey snapped. “I can focus very well!” 

He was a professional athlete, after all. He wouldn’t let himself be distracted by something like romantic interest.

Karen didn’t stop giggling. “Prove it! Because I am sure, you would stare at Domi’s ass and not at your opponent or something like that.”

Andrey didn’t say anything more; instead, he kicked Karen’s shin, which made his friend squeak. Karen was ready to complain when a woman walked up to them. 

“Mr. Rublev?”
“Yes?”
“We would like to check the order of play with you for tomorrow. We have the doubles pairings confirmed now.”

“Oh, that’s great! Who am I gonna play with?” he asked eagerly. Karen also looked expectantly at the woman as if the greatest secret in the world was about to be revealed.

“You will play the first semi-final of the day. Dominic Thiem and Alexander Zverev are playing against you and Matteo Berrettini.” 

Andrey felt the pressure slipping off his shoulders. Matteo was good. Matteo was nice. He knew Matteo from the Laver Cup. He could work with that. Matteo wasn't Nick, wasn't Stricker either, whom Andrey didn't know yet. Unfortunately, Matteo wasn't Domi or Sascha either.

“Matteo is a good doubles partner?” Karen tore him out of his thoughts. When Andrey focused again, the woman had already left. Andrey nodded.

“Have you ever played with him before?” Karen continued when Andrey didn’t say anything.

“No, not yet. But that shouldn’t be a problem. I think I can adjust to most players fast.” At least people told him that. And he usually could work with most of his partners. Even though he preferred playing with Karen. They had this familiarity none of the other players could reach.

“So, everything is fine then? You don’t have to see Nick tomorrow, as he is not playing with you or against you.”

True, he hadn't even thought about the fact that there was not only the possibility of playing with Nick but also against him. Neither was particularly thrilling.

“You are right. But now I have to play against Domi…”

“Why do you look sad? You were nervous about getting Nick as a partner only some minutes ago, and now you complain that Sascha will play with Domi?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I am doing now,” Andrey answered, although he meant it only partly. Matteo was all right. But Andrey always wanted to win, but not quite that much against Domi.

“Someone doesn't want to play with me?” another voice suddenly interfered in the conversation. Andrey winced, his cheeks blushing fastly.

“Hey, Matteo," he mumbled a little to himself. He didn't get an answer. Instead, Matteo lightly punched him in the shoulder.

“I'm happy to check with the organizers. I'm sure Stefanos won't mind if I play with him. Then you'll have Nick by your side, a slam-winner in doubles, after all.”

Matteo winked at him. And if Andrey weren't already blushing, it would probably get worse.

“Andrey was hoping for someone else, but he'll survive,” Karen winked at them. 

Was there a way to make Karen shut up!? 

“So, with who?”

“His lover,” Karen answered dryly.

“His… what?”
“Karen shut the fuck up!” Andrey snapped at Karen. Domi wasn’t his lover . 

“Ah, Domi also lost today, didn’t he? Who is he playing with? I didn’t check the other teams.”
“Sascha,” Karen answered gleefully. “You actually have to play them tomorrow. And you are right; this is a Domi situation.”

Andrey sighed. “Is there anyone who doesn’t know about that yet?”
“Yes, Andrey. There is one person, who doesn’t know you are completely gone for Dominic Thiem, and that’s Domi himself.” Karen giggled, and Matteo joined the laugh. Andrey rolled his eyes. Sometimes he really hated everyone on tour.

“I am relieved I can play with you, Matteo,” Andrey said, trying to change the subject of the conversation.

“Naw, Rublo, we will have fun together, I am sure. And about the Domi situation, we will do something after the matches.”
“What do you mean?”
“You will see tomorrow. I have to talk to Grigor first.”

“Grigor?”

“Yes, Grigor”
“I never talked with Grigor about Domi?”
“Well, maybe I did. Yesterday.” Karen interjected apologetically.
“You really want to tell me everyone at this tournament knows about me?”
“I don’t think Nick knows yet, but if you want, I can call him,” Matteo answered politely.

“Oh, fuck off,” Andrey hissed and decided it was time to leave. 

He was close to killing the next person saying something about Domi and him. He knew it was difficult. He knew he was a useless little boy in everything besides tennis and would probably spend the rest of his life alone, considering he could not even ask someone like Domi for an actual date. 

Andrey took the last sip of his coffee and stood up. Karen called after him, but Andrey was not in the mood to talk to them anymore, and he just wanted to bury himself in his bed. He had promised Nastja to call her, but maybe he should message her first, telling her he would end the call as soon as she said Domi’s name. Or perhaps he should skip the call completely to forget about his non-functioning love life.

Friday

Andrey's first choice would have been Domi. That was no secret. But a match was a match, and Andrey’s love for tennis was bigger than anything else. It had taken only a few minutes to forget who was playing and who was smiling on the other side of the net. Now it was only about winning. That's what he was here for, that's what he was paid for. Andrey expected the highest level possible from himself, even if it was only an exhibition.

Fortunately, Matteo was serving well, and Andrey won some beautiful points. He could even catch an impressed look on Domi’s face which made him a little proud. Maybe he was running even faster to get the ball after that.

But the good feeling didn’t last; the way Sascha and Domi were talking happily to each other during the match, the way they celebrated their points. Andrey didn’t even know what exactly bothered him. Obviously, you must speak with your doubles partner. Maybe it was them speaking German, a language Andrey couldn’t understand, reminding him that Domi and he would always have a language barrier between them. 

Trying to prove he could actually focus, Andrey slipped deeper into the match and tried to forget everything else, only concentrating on the yellow ball now.

Game. Set. Match. Berrettini/Rublev . 

And then they won. Faster than expected. He quickly hugged Matteo and went to the net. Relief was swelling inside him - his visit to Saudi Arabia had not been a complete failure. Domi was already waiting for his hug. Andrey got closer and slipped his arms around the other man.

“I hope next time we play together,” Domi whispered in Andrey’s ear. He wanted to answer some words of encouragement because Andrey knew how much Domi hated losing. Even in doubles. But Sascha was already waiting to hug him too. “Well played,” he smiled at Andrey.

“Good to have you back on tour. I missed you.”
“Aw, don’t be so sappy,” But Sascha smiled a little.

Andrey thought he could return to the hotel soon, but he was wrong. Apparently, everyone liked his new partnership with Matteo. They had to interview themselves, give autographs, and record more videos for Instagram. Andrey didn’t mind, that was part of his job, but when he finally left the facilities, he felt mentally exhausted. 

While entering the hotel lobby, Andrey was staring at his phone, checking out the notifications on Instagram. People had a lot of fun watching him and Matteo play together. He was so focused that he didn’t notice the other person until he bumped into them.

“Oh, sorry.”
“Hi, Andrey!”
“Hi, Grigor” Andrey kinda forgot that Grigor was an alternate too.

“Tonight, in my room. No excuses.”

“What?”
“You come to my room like everyone else. Tonight.” Was that an invitation? Or a threat? Or both?

“But I have a match tomorrow?” Andrey insisted. 

“Yes, an exh ibition doubles final. I know. Matteo will be there, too, so there is no excuse for you not to show up. We'll start at 8 pm, when you aren’t in my room at 08:30 pm, I will pick you up. Or send Karen to pick you up.”

Please don't. Andrey was quite familiar with this threat, and it wouldn't be the first time Karen pestered him until Andrey had no choice but to follow his friend somewhere he didn’t want to go.

“What do we even do?”
“Playing some games, you will see. It will be fun.”

Andrey wasn’t sure if that was his definition of fun, but he nodded. 

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”
“Nope, you will be there. See you later!”

~~ ֍ ~~ ֍ ~~ ֍ ~~

“Rublettini bolognese?” Domi slipped into the free chair next to Andrey, smiling like always. Was that a question? Did Domi expect Andrey to say something? It looked like that because Domi just stared at Andrey expectantly.

“There is always something stupid in my mind, sorry.” Stupid and bad things. And it was better to say the silly things loudly and bury the other things deep in his mind. At least it made Domi chuckle. 

“You liked playing with Matteo?”
“Sure, it was fun. 

“You played really well.” 

Andrey blushed. The match has been okay. Nothing special but also not his worst attempt at a doubles match.

“It was very easy with Matteo. He should get credit as well.”

“Hm” That's all Domi answered.

“Are you okay?” A little worried, Andrey looked at him.

“Sure. I just wish I could play with you next time.”

“I am still angry with the Båstad organizers for not giving us a wildcard.” Which was the truth. Andrey didn’t understand how they could deny them a wildcard at a 250 tournament.

It was a good answer then Domi relaxed a bit.

“But I am not sure I can make you feel as safe as Matteo did,” he said softly.
“No worries, Karen is the worst partner ever, and I still play with him,” Andrey answered, making Domi giggle.

“See you later in Grigor’s room, then?” 

“Yes, see you later” Andrey nodded and smiled.  After Domi left, Andrey exhaled for a long time. He hadn't even noticed that he had been holding his breath most of the time. Domi had been weird. Maybe Andrey only noticed it because he always watched Domi very closely and knew his every reaction.

 In a hurry, he ate the rest of his dinner and rushed back to his room. He had around 30 minutes left to change into some fresh clothes. At first, he thought about wearing the white sweater again, but he didn’t want Domi to think Andrey was always wearing the same (it wouldn’t be wrong, though, but maybe tonight was a night to put a little more effort into his outfit).

After ditching Nastja yesterday, he decided to call her now. It took her less than five seconds to answer the phone.

“My man is still alive, I see,” she greeted him.

“Sorry about yesterday,” Andrey answered, a little guilty. He wondered if Domi would have a serious problem with Andrey not being very reliable. “I need your help.”

“You always need my help. That’s the only reason you remember I exist.”

“Nastja!”

“I only tell the truth, sweetie. Now tell me about your problem.”
“I think Domi is jealous,” Andrey whispered into his phone like he was too scared, saying it louder.

“Why should he be?” Andrey could hear the irritation in Nastja’s voice.

“I don’t know? It was fun playing with Matteo. But Domi talked to me at dinner and was a bit weird.” Andrey didn’t even know how to explain it properly. It was just a feeling, and the way Domi had looked at him was slightly off. 

“I see,” Nastja answered. “I haven’t seen the match or any other video, but I know my flirty touchy boy.”
“Nastja,” Andrey winced. “Why are you like that? Don’t make me sound like I flirt with everyone.”

“But that’s exactly what you do, honey.” She giggled.

“If I had any  idea how to flirt, Karen wouldn’t be so annoyed by my useless attempts.”
“The problem is that it only works when it’s not intentional. So you basically flirt with everyone except the only person you actually want to flirt with.”

“Thank you for your observation. But it’s not helping me right now, and I need good advice. Everyone is acting like I am 16 and completely useless, and I can’t stand their pitying looks anymore,” Andrey complained. Seriously, if one more person said anything about the Domi situation , he would fire tennis balls into that person's face at the next training session.

“Okay, what is your strategy then?”

“No strategy.”
“That’s why you are calling me.”
“Exactly.”

“What are you doing tonight?”
“Grigor, Karen, Matteo, and some others organized a game night for us players. I don’t know what they want to do. Grigor told me to be there at 8 pm.”
“Game night?”
“At least they called it like that. Maybe some card games…”
“Oh, Andrey…” Nastja laughed. “You really have no idea what kind of games they will play tonight, don’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I am sure it’s nothing you want to play. Remember the Olympic village?… So, here is my suggestion: Make sure Domi arrives before you, and when you enter the room, you just go there and kiss him.”

“I… what?!”
“You kiss him.”
“I cannot just go there and kiss people!”

“Domi, not people. And what else do you want to do? You aren’t talking to him.”
“I talk to him every day!”
“Andrey Andreyevich Rublev!”
“Okay, maybe I don’t talk to him like that ...” Andrey admitted.

Nastja didn’t say anything. She was probably nodding and forgetting Andrey couldn’t see her.

“Exactly. We need some action to avoid an embarrassing game night.”
“When I am dead after this, you are not invited to my funeral.”

“My favorite drama queen. I love you very much. Good luck. I am sure it will go well,”

And without waiting for Andrey’s answer, she ended the call. He couldn’t even ask for some more outfit advice.

~~ ֍ ~~ ֍ ~~ ֍ ~~

Andrey stared at Grigor's door for a brief moment. There was still time to run away. But that’s what he always did, right? Running away. Andrey’s ultimate solution to everything.

When things get complicated, just disappear. But Nastja was right. It couldn't go on like this. 

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Grigor opened, and Andrey entered the room. As planned, Domi was already there. 

Matteo had settled on the sofa and was fiddling with some cards. (Maybe Nastja had been wrong?) Karen and Domi were standing in the middle of the room, looking like they had a serious conversation some seconds ago. 

Daniil was busy staring at the TV, whereas Stefanos was trying to survive the evening at Nick's side. Sascha hasn’t arrived yet.

“Hi, Andrey. I thought I needed to pick you up!” Karen greeted him, but Andrey ignored his words. He had a mission. Step A was kissing Domi. Step B was handling his friends.

So he walked purposefully toward Domi, who looked at him, more confused with every step. Andrey avoided his gaze, afraid Domi's irritation could keep him from his plan. 

Right in front of him, he paused for a second, then, carefully, Andrey took Domi's cheeks in his hand and placed his lips on Domi's. They were warm and also a bit chapped - not that Andrey minded. Their lips touching softly felt perfect.

Everything happened so fast that he had no time to think about what he was doing there. For a moment, Andrey was nervous Domi could pull away. But then he felt the tension leaving Domi’s body, who threw his arms around Andrey. Domi’s hand in Andrey’s hair only made Andrey kiss him even more confidently, a bit harder. Andrey’s grip tightened; he didn’t want to stop. After waiting so long, there was no need to shorten their kiss. He slowly slid his tongue into Domi’s mouth, which made Domi pull Andrey’s hair a little.

After several seconds, they pulled away, Domi breathing heavily, his cheeks blushing, and his hand still in Andrey’s hair. 

“Andrey Andreyevich Rublev!” Karen, who else.

Andrey closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about a way to leave this room with Domi without dealing with the people around him.
“That’s the second time someone called me by my full name today,” he said then.

“I. Am. Pissed.” 

“I can see that.” Domi and he let each other go and stared at Karen, who had his hands on his hips. 

“It’s not funny.” 

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” What was Karen’s problem? Andrey thought that’s what they all wanted, and that’s why they teased him all this time. Domi grabbed his hand, and Andrey could feel the fingers embracing his own.

“I have been waiting for this moment for nearly a year. I was close to giving up because you two are the biggest idiots in love on earth. I was so desperate I asked nearly every person available for advice. Grigor, Matteo, and I planned a full game night in the shortest time ever. We thought about all the fun games and things that could help. And you are telling me now that it was for nothing because you decided to be a little more confident today out of all days!?” 

Andrey couldn’t tell if Karen was furious, if he was frustrated or if it was only a weird way to show his happiness. Matteo and Grigor were laughing as if they had just watched the funniest movie ever, and Daniil turned his attention back to Stefanos’s doubles drama.

“But you know what, Andrey? I don’t care. I don’t care if you want to snog Domi right now. You will play every single game tonight, and I will embarrass you as much as possible. And I will tell Domi every detail of your desperation during the year. And I -”

A knock on the door interrupted Karen’s little speech. Grigor opened it, and Sascha came into the room.

“Sorry for being late. I hope you haven’t started without me,” he said.

“Oh, no worries, with the games we haven’t started yet,” Grigor answered, amused.

“Domi and Andrey decided to start the evening from the last part. And now we go backward.”

Sascha looked at him, eyebrows together and clearly irritated. “What?”
“Grigor wants to say you missed the kiss,” Matteo interrupted, still watching everything from the couch.

“I missed what!?”

“Andrey’s and Domi’s kiss!” Matteo answered like a proud Dad.

“What!?” Sascha whined. “I am not even 30 minutes late, and I already missed the kiss ?” He looked like he was going to cry.

“You can be punctual next time,” Grigor smirked. 

“It’s okay, Sascha, we can kiss again” Domi smiled at Sascha before he grabbed Andrey’s waist and pulled him closer. This time it wasn’t that awkward. Domi’s fingers carefully caressed Andrey’s back while their tongues softly explored each other's mouths. Andrey wasn’t sure how long they kissed, longer than the first time but definitely not long enough. But they were still in Grigor’s room, so they pulled apart.

“Thank you for your demonstration,” Sascha answered. However, he looked like he couldn't believe what he had just seen. “And now? Wasn’t that supposed to happen at the end of the night?”

“Now we play all the games we have prepared.” It looked like Karen overcame the shock.

“Come on; we will survive that,” Domi said, grabbed Andrey’s hand, and dragged him to the sofa. Andrey wasn’t sure about that. But maybe he could hold Domi’s hand the rest of the night.