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There’s two things Flavio notices about the youngest member of Team Europe once they begin their promo before the start of the Cup. One, Jakub likes to have fun. He’s a bit shy at first and sticks close to Tomáš, but it doesn’t take long before he’s laughing, making jokes left and right and just seems generally happy to be here. Flavio knows for a fact that’s going to change once they put him on the court - that guy can be a beast if he wants to, you don’t win Miami against Djokovic in two tiebreaks by fooling around - but in the days leading up to the Laver Cup, Jakub seems every bit the twenty year old easy-going youngster that he is.
Two, he’s also really hot.
Which is why when Flavio replies to Jannik’s text Friday night, a few hours after the very doubles match that seems to have gotten under Jannik’s skin, he’s almost giddy with the possibilities. He’s quite friendly with Jakub and has gotten to know him a bit better over the last few months, ironically after beating him at Wimbledon in straight sets, which puts him in the perfect position for this.
Flavio knows he’s good at messing with people, so. What can possibly go wrong?
x
YouTube supplies him with the previous days’ highlight reel the next morning. Still half asleep after a short night, he watches Casper and Jakub win their singles, skips through himself losing to João before paying extra close attention to Carlos and Jakub during their doubles match. He was more focused on the actual tennis last night, especially after he busted his own match and had to trust his teammates to make up for it, but watching it back now, Flavio can see why Jannik felt compelled to text him about it.
Carlos and Jakub are captivating.
Their chemistry is so easy, so familiar that if Flavio didn’t know any better, he’d swear they’d been playing doubles together for ages. Carlos has always been a physical person and Jakub responds to it like it’s the most natural thing to do; touching hands and sharing space after every point, curling himself almost protectively around Carlos as the Spaniard leans into his chest, embarrassed after missing an easy shot.
Flavio bites his lip, thinking. Physical contact seems to be his best bet, seeing how happily Jakub accepts any kind of affection once he’s warmed up a bit. And Flavio’s English is too choppy, too awkward for any kind of eloquent flirting, anyways. But he knows he can be charming when he wants to be, so that’s exactly how he’s going to do it.
Good thing neither of them is scheduled to play today.
x
He starts his mission during breakfast. They’ve all agreed to meet up in the dining hall, the entirety of Team Europe minus Sascha, who’s already up and at it to prepare for his first match against Alex. Flavio spots Jakub first at the buffet - that kid is too tall for his own good - then registers Carlos’ aggressively silver buzzcut next to him. Carlos laughs at something Jakub says and elbows him in the side. Jakub grins, pleased.
Time to intervene.
Flavio sidles up on Jakub’s other side, snatching up a plate on his way and going for the scrambled eggs. Carlos spots him first. “Hola, Flavi! You sleep well?”
“Sure,” he replies, smiling easily. “Good sleep when you guys win all the matches, no? Amazing job yesterday.” He shovels eggs onto his plate, then sets it down and reaches around Jakub to grab some bread, resting a light hand on his waist to gently move him to the side. He gives the softest of squeezes before letting go, so subtle that most of his fingertips’ pressure gets lost in the fabric of Jakub’s hoodie.
Jakub looks at him for a very short moment before taking a step backwards, giving Flavio more room. Carlos smiles happily. “You play very well too, Flavi. João is just not human I think.”
“Damn straight,” Taylor comments, walking by at that moment with Reilly at his side. “Be careful before he beats you too, Charlie.”
“You have to beat me first tonight, eh?”
Carlos trails after the Americans, joking around and laughing loudly. Flavio watches him almost drop his cereal.
Jakub chuckles, his eyes following Carlos as well. “He’s funny like that but then he is gonna beat the crap out of you on the court. Crazy. Good thing I played together with him yesterday.”
Flavio hums in agreement as they take their plates and make their way over to the table where the rest of the teams are sitting. “You are feeling okay?”
Jakub turns his head to look at him, a bit puzzled. “Yes? Why do you ask?”
Flavio shrugs. “You play two matches yesterday. Is tough. The knee is not hurting?”
“No,” Jakub replies slowly, eyebrows furrowing. “It’s alright. No problems.”
“Good, then. I do not have to worry.” Flavio beams at Jakub, a disarming kind of smile he’s been told suits him very well. Jakub returns it shyly and sets down his plate on the table before gesturing to the seat beside him. “You wanna sit here?”
Flavio bites his lip and nods, putting his plate down as well. “I come back,” he announces and goes back to the buffet to get two glasses of freshly pressed orange juice, barely able to stop himself from smiling. This is going exactly as planned.
He returns to the table and pretends not to notice the soft look of surprise on Jakub’s face when he wordlessly sets one glass down in front of him.
Right after breakfast Flavio pulls out his phone to shoot Jannik a quick text.
Flavio
i’m on it
Jannik
Grazie, Flavi.
Forza!
x
Flavio turns around to face Jakub when he slides in behind him while they wait for the walk-out, the entirety of Team Europe all lined up ready to go out in order of their rankings.
They’ve done this twice already yesterday, so the novelty has worn off a bit. Still, the very atmosphere of this tournament is causing a pleasant feeling of nerves in his chest that’s making him bounce on his feet. Jakub shrugs on his blue Laver Cup jacket and gives him a giddy smile, mirroring his excitement. “Are you ready?,” he asks, cracking his knuckles.
Flavio shudders and reaches for Jakub’s hands, prying them apart. “Yes I am ready. Stop that. Is disgusting.”
Jakub laughs. “It’s too loud here, you can’t even hear the crack!”
“No, but I can see it and that is bad already!”
Flavio is still holding on to Jakub’s hands, suspended in the air between them. They’re bigger than his own, naturally, with long fingers and the kinds of callouses that Flavio and every other player on the tour is intimately familiar with. “Is not good for the tennis, Kuba. Maybe good for me when we play next time because you can not hit the ball so hard anymore.”
Jakub’s reply is drowned out by the walk-out announcement and the excitement of the crowd just outside the tunnel, but Flavio catches the hint of a smirk on his face which makes Jakub look, frankly, kind of devastatingly hot in the dim light. Flavio swallows heavily.
While the announcer in the arena lists off his achievements, he turns back around to Jakub for a short moment, who winks at him before putting a hand lightly on his lower back, giving him a soft push into the tunnel.
It’s showtime.
x
When they take their place in the Team Europe camp while Alex and Sascha get ready on court, Jakub plants himself not onto the couch like a normal person, but onto the back rest instead, looking at Flavio with a smile that he can’t help but reciprocate.
And, honestly, this is turning out to be the easiest job ever. Flavio doesn’t even have to do anything because it’s too tempting; too enticing to not make use of the space Jakub’s left between his legs without realising. Still, he hesitates for a short moment, his fingers grazing Jakub’s knee. He’s aware of the people, of the cameras, but then that’s the point, isn’t it? He wants people to see; Jannik especially but everyone else as well, give them something other than Carlos and Jakub after their fantastic doubles match the night before.
Jakub moves his leg ever so slightly to accommodate Flavio, a wordless invitation and Flavio accepts, sits down between too long legs and barely even flinches when suddenly, there are hands on his shoulders and a voice in his ear. “The couch is big enough, you know?”
Flavio smirks, leans closer to Jakub. “But I like it here. Comfortable, no?”
He squeezes Jakub’s knee and resumes watching the match. Their position is fairly harmless, with Flavio sitting quite close to the edge of the couch, but Jakub is physically big enough in a way that makes Flavio acutely aware of his presence behind him. It would be so easy to lean back and let those long legs bracket him entirely. Heat spreads all over his body at the thought and makes him want to take off his jacket in the already uncomfortably warm arena, but he doesn’t want to risk it. Not when Jakub is still resting his hands on his shoulders, gently massaging the tense muscles of his neck.
Flavio shifts, trying to ignore the tingling sensation that works its way up his spine. He turns his head in tune with the rally, can feel Jakub behind him doing the same. Alex hits a particularly beautiful backhand slice that forces Sascha to return it wide. To his left, Team World goes crazy and so does half the audience. Flavio begrudgingly acknowledges the shot; hears Tomáš say something to Jakub in Czech. Jakub rests his hands more firmly on Flavio’s shoulders, curling his fingers around them and Flavio thinks you know what, why the fuck not.
He leans back.
He’s settled deeply between Jakub’s legs now, the younger’s hands sliding off his shoulders to rest on his chest. If Jakub can feel how fast Flavio’s heart is beating he makes no mention of it, which Flavio is thankful for, except-
Jakub leans forward, ducking his head. “Relax,” he whispers.
Flavio can’t help but smirk, tucking his chin closer to his chest in a futile attempt to hide it. He crosses his arms in front of his stomach, trying to look casual. He probably fails, almost dizzy with excitement.
Sascha manages to win a point but Flavio doesn’t move an inch, too comfortable in his current position, until all of a sudden Jakub rearranges them, not so much pushing him forward as lifting him out of the vee of his legs. He takes his hands off of Flavio like he’s been burned and when Flavio looks to their right, he sees Carlos staring right at them, brows furrowed.
Damn it.
He’s not bold enough to insert himself right back into Jakub’s space - he doesn’t want to look desperate - but luckily, they seem to naturally migrate back to another after a while, this time next to each other on the couch, which suits Flavio just fine because he can see Jakub’s face better like this.
It’s a good face.
Which Flavio immediately tells him during the next changeover - not exactly in those words, but “This jacket make your eyes look nice” comes close enough, he reckons.
It’s quite a daring comment, but the way Jakub blushes makes it worth it, ducking his head between his shoulders and looking back towards the court in a manner that’s too strained to be casual.
Flavio bites down on his smile. He was right. This is what he does best.
x
It becomes a thing after the morning session. The looks, the touches, however fleeting, little moments throughout the day. An arm around his shoulders for pictures, sure, but then also gentle fingers in his hair and a firm hand at his waist.
Despite the mission, Flavio did not intend for it to become a thing. Whatever he started this morning was supposed to be a distraction, an attempt to get Jakub to pay attention to someone else than Carlos. Curse him if he got a bit carried away, but who can blame him? He was going to ask Jakub to lunch during the break between sessions, counting on Sascha to whisk Carlos away for an hour or two. He made a promise to Jannik and he intends to keep it - it’s not like flirting with a cute boy is a hardship.
He did not think Jakub would flirt back.
Which is why Flavio barely stops himself from flinching when a heavy hand lands on his shoulder while Team Europe is gathering for the day session debrief, thumb resting firmly on the back of his neck. Jakub leans down to where Flavio is sitting at the table in the makeshift gym they use to warm up and prepare. “Let’s eat lunch together after this?”
Flavio pouts and tilts his head to look up at the boy looming behind him. “Hey. I want to ask you that.”
Jakub responds with a laugh. “Be faster then, next time.”
So, they eat lunch together. Spending time with Jakub is fun, so much so that Flavio almost feels bad about how he’s technically playing a game right now, completing a mission, acting on someone else’s orders. But he quickly forgets about his guilty conscience every time Jakub speaks, deep voice so mesmerizing Flavio feels stupid with it.
They almost miss the walk-out for the night session which goes, incredibly, even worse than the day session, results wise. Morale is down when Carlos loses to Taylor and Alex One and Two don’t even give Casper and Holger the slightest of chances in the last match of the day.
Jakub squeezes his neck when they clear out of the arena, attaching himself to Flavio’s side. “We should play doubles together, next time,” he says, making Flavio laugh.
“Ah, no,” he replies cheekily, looking up at Jakub. “I am scared about your serve. Maybe you hit me. And then I have hole in my back.”
They have another team meeting, but since it’s already pretty late they keep it brief. The team has dinner together before everyone splits up to their respective rooms with the discouraging knowledge that Team World is up 9-3 against them in the total score.
Flavio’s room is right next to Jakub’s, which he knew, of course. He still acts surprised when Jakub points it out. Jakub daps him up as a way of saying goodnight, pulling him into a half-hug that lasts a few seconds longer than Flavio’s used to, his face pressed sideways into Jakub’s shoulder.
Their height difference becomes more pronounced in this position and it’s surprisingly…nice. Yes, nice is a good word for it, Flavio decides. Just nice.
Then Jakub clears his throat. “Do you, ah. I have my Switch with me, do you want to play Fifa for a bit?”
Flavio blinks, ignoring how his heart seems intent on beating its way out of his chest. “You have match tomorrow, Kuba. You need sleep, no?”
Jakub shrugs. “One game, ah?”
Flavio looks at him, the way he’s standing in the open doorway to his room, broad shoulders leaning against the frame. He smiles and pretends to think about it, as if hasn’t already made up his mind. “Sí. One game.”
They end up playing three.
x
He sees neither Carlos nor Jakub on Sunday morning, who are both scheduled to play the first two matches of the day, yet he’s in a fantastic mood. He feels light and giddy, even though the odds are stacked terribly against Team Europe after yesterday, when no one managed to win a single match. Flavio has breakfast with the rest of the team, the vibe around the table slightly more subdued because at the end of the day, they are all professional athletes with the desire to win. Still, Flavio doesn’t quite manage to hide the soft smile that seems to be stuck on his face. Holger frowns at him when he puts his plate of eggs and toast down on the table. “Why are you so happy?”
Flavio shrugs as he sinks into the chair, aiming for casual. “I sleep well. Maybe we can turn score around today, no?”
Holger scoffs. “We better.”
And they start off strong.
Carlos and Casper take out Alex and Reilly in formidable fashion, starting the day with a bang. Flavio is being swept up in the wave of hope crashing over Team Europe, so caught up in the belief of being able to win the Laver Cup that he barely spares Jannik a thought, who must not be happy about today’s doubles match either, surely.
Damn Carlos Alcaraz and his uncanny ability to make friends with literally anyone.
Jakub loses to the Demon in straight sets, which, well. Flavio feels bad for him, but he’s still glad he wasn’t the one to play this match because Alex is, frankly, kind of terrifying on this court.
Also, Jakub looked really good doing it, so. That’s that.
All in all, Flavio’s having a pretty solid day so far, enjoying the brief respite from actual life-or-death competition and remembering that playing tennis is actually fun, delighting in the silly excitement of experiencing a crush.
Until Carlos corners him in the locker room in the break between sessions and says “Did you talk with Jannik about Kuba” and Flavio promptly drops the roll of tape Sascha asked him to get.
“Uh,” he says eloquently and then says “Yes” because he’s weak and not the fastest thinker. Carlos continues, unbothered.
“Okay, so he text you. Before the Cup. About Jakub.” It’s a statement rather than a question, so Flavio stays silent. Carlos furrows his brows.
“Why is he doing that? He wish me good luck before the match but then I think he wrote that to everyone, no? So. Why do you two talk about Jakub?”
Carlos doesn’t look mad, but then he rarely does. He’s mostly confused, head tilted questioningly to one side and Flavio silently curses the boy for actually resembling a puppy. It makes it impossible to lie to him, so he sighs, accepting defeat. “Jannik asked me to be, ah, friends with Jakub, to- how do you say again? Distract him.”
The confusion on Carlos’ face intensifies. “From what? The tennis? This is Laver Cup. Jannik does not want Team Europe to win?”
Flavio can’t help but laugh at that. “No, Carlitos. Distract him from you. Jannik saw doubles match and he was- he was not happy, you know.”
Something complicated flickers across Carlos’ features then, before settling on a carefully blank expression. Flavio is familiar with it; it’s like trying to control your emotions on the court so they don’t impact your game. Seeing Carlos do it now feels wrong and Flavio gets the intense urge to do anything that puts a smile back on Carlos’ face. Fucking puppy.
“Carlos. He just ask me because he, uh,” Flavio scrambles and blanks for a second, unable to come up with a valid reason. He never asked; he just assumed it was a joke they’re both taking a bit too seriously. “He just wants me to, you know-”
“He can say to me himself, next time,” Carlos interrupts him, accent thickening in agitation. “He can text or he can call and say ‘Carlos, I don’t like when you touch other players’ but he doesn’t. I told him before, you know? I say ‘Jannik, what are we. Tell me.’ I ask what can I do, what are the rules. He does not answer. We stop when we are apart and then we do it again when we are together and it never stops.”
Flavio’s mouth drops open. Carlos stands before him, a bit breathless. The silence is loud. Then he drops down onto the bench next to him, hanging his head. “I don’t know anymore what to do. I like him but he is not gonna say to me ‘Do not be close to Jakub because you-’” He pauses briefly; swallowing thickly before continuing to speak. “‘Because you belong with me.’ I think maybe he wants it like that, but he is not gonna say.”
Flavio blinks. “You and Jannik, you are…ah. You, ah, you like Jannik?”
Carlos turns to look at him like he’s stupid. "Sí, I like Jannik. You know that, no? Jannik told you that we sleep together?”
Jesus Christ.
“Uh, yes.” He did not.
Carlos looks at him skeptically. “You have no idea, no?”
“Ah, no,” Flavio admits, wincing. “How long have you…?”
It’s Carlos’ turn to wince. “Don’t ask. Please. Too long.”
Flavio has trouble processing. The silence hangs between them, because what else is there to say at this point? After a minute he clears his throat, attempting to change the topic.
“How do you know? About text from Jannik?”
Carlos laughs sheepishly. “I didn’t. Until you said yes. I only thought maybe, because Jannik was weird today.”
Flavio barely resists the urge to face palm. He’s the worst undercover agent ever.
He lets his head bang against the locker behind him, looks at Carlos with a defeated sigh. “How was Jannik weird? He is always weird.”
“I call with him this morning. He ask many weird things, like how is the team and how is Flavio doing and who is good friends in the team. And what doubles is like with Kuba and does he have other friends on the team and why are they making me play so much. Because when I already play doubles with Casper today and maybe singles today, why can’t Jakub play with Flavio or Holger on Friday. I said it has already happened, we can’t change it, but he was not happy with it.” Carlos furrows his brows, thinking. “It is very obvious now that I know. Jannik is not a good actor. But when I ask him he just said ‘Nothing, Carlitos, just questions. Good luck today’.”
“But, Carlos. Jannik is like that, you know, no? He does not say what he feels. But I tell you now - he was really, really not happy about the match. But now I think, maybe is good for him to see. So he can know you don’t wait forever.”
“I would,” Carlos says immediately. “Wait forever.”
Oh. Okay.
It’s an uncomfortably loaded statement and Flavio doesn’t really know what to say. This, he didn’t expect, and he briefly asks himself if he would have agreed to Jannik’s request had he known about how deep their relationship actually goes. He doesn’t come up with an answer.
Then Carlos huffs out a laugh, diffusing the heavy air. “Wow. I cannot believe you are the first person I told this. I thought you knew. But now you tell me, Flavi.” He scoots closer, crosses his legs and props his chin up on his fist. “You and Kuba? I saw you with him. On the couch. Did not look like just pretending, no?”
Flavio swallows, throat dry. He’s successfully avoided thinking about it, mostly. He doesn’t want to examine this thing too closely; this jittery feeling in his chest when Jakub puts an arm around his shoulders and turns that blinding smile on him. Saying it aloud makes it real and he doesn’t know if he’s ready for that. Laver Cup is a bubble removed from reality, where rivals become teammates and then friends and then all of a sudden, all the lines are blurred and you don’t know how you’re supposed to go back to normal on the tour.
“First, yes,” he begins, choosing his words carefully. “Now, I don’t know. It’s, ah, different. Jakub is very special.”
Carlos looks at him like he knows he’s full of shit but mercifully doesn’t press any further. Instead he laughs again, an infectious giggle. “It is so funny, no? That Jannik make you do that with Jakub. How do you say? Seducir. Seduce. Oh my god.” Another giggle as he slumps forward and hides his face in his hands.
Flavio nods and laughs as well, leaning his head back against the lockers. “Distract the Czech, he said. Not seduce. But is the same meaning, I think. He just wants him away from you so I told him yes, I can do it.”
A quiet voice from behind him asks “You can do what?”
Flavio whips his head around so fast he feels it all the way down his spine and shoots up from the bench. Jakub is standing in the doorway, taking off his cap and running his hand through his hair. He looks very young and uncharacteristically small, his usually impressive six foot five diminished by the raw look of disappointment on his face. The intensity of it takes Flavio’s breath away for a second and he opens his mouth, then closes it again, searching for words. Both his languages fail him.
“Kuba,” Carlos says and stands up as well, holding out his hands in a calming gesture. “We can explain to you, let Flavio-”
Jakub doesn’t look at Carlos. His eyes are fixed on Flavio as he says “Say it again what I just heard. Maybe I heard wrong. You can do what?” He’s wringing his cap in his hands, twisting the fabric in every possible way, staring at Flavio with intense blue eyes.
Flavio swallows and looks to Carlos, who bites his lip and shrugs helplessly. There’s a pit in Flavio’s stomach filled with something very close to dread; not unlike being a break down in the deciding set and you know that any mistake, however small, could seal your fate and cost you the match. “Jakub, I don’t know how much you hear but it’s not-”
“Jannik told you to talk to me more? Flirt with me so I can’t be close with Carlos? You only did it because of him?” Jakub’s voice wobbles ever so slightly at the end of the sentence.
“It’s not Jannik’s fault,” Flavio says automatically, which is a stupid thing to say but still true nonetheless. He’s not going to throw Jannik under the bus and pretend he was forced to do the things that he did. “He said distract. That is all he said.”
“Okay,” Jakub says, in a way that means it’s not okay at all. He averts his gaze, staring at the monotone locker room floor between them. “So it was just you, ah? You came to me just for a joke. You didn’t- you didn’t feel- it was all you. Okay.”
He’s silent for a moment, then lets out a sarcastic laugh in disbelief. “I think that’s worse, you know. Because it means you didn’t even do it for your friend. You think what, ah yes, Jakub, he is- důvěřivý enough, I can play with his feelings?”
Jakub’s voice breaks on the last word. Flavio gets a vague sense of vertigo, like the ground is tilting beneath his feet. “No, no, no, no, no- Jakub, ascolta!“ He takes a step forward on unsteady legs. Jakub, in a horrible mirror image, takes a small step back. “It’s not like that. You have to listen, Kuba, it is not like that-”
He stops. Jakub looks at him like he’s not believing a word he says and Flavio can’t even blame him because the truth is, it is exactly like that. He did exactly what Jakub is accusing him of, even if he didn’t act with malicious intent. Jakub has every right to be mad, to feel betrayed, but things are different now, for Flavio, anyways. How he’s supposed to explain himself to Jakub without sounding like an absolute asshole, though, that’s beyond him at the moment. His brain is scrambling for something to say, but Jakub speaks first.
“I can understand the things on the couch, you know, because it’s for show a bit and for Jannik to see and for fans maybe. But, ah,” Jakub’s eyes flicker briefly to Carlos, to Flavio, then back to the floor. “I think sleeping in my room was a bit too much, you don’t think?”
Flavio’s heart drops. He didn’t expect Jakub to bring it up - they fell asleep while playing, innocently enough, maybe a bit closer together than they should have, almost touching but not quite. Jakub makes it sound like it was more than it actually was, like maybe he wanted-
Flavio feels Carlos’ eyes burning into the back of his head. This is going all wrong and there’s a desperate sense of urgency clawing its way up his stomach as he looks at the heartbroken expression on Jakub’s face.
Carlos clears his throat. “I will, ah- go. I will go.”
He carefully steps around Flavio, casting him a sympathetic look Flavio barely registers. When he slips past Jakub in the doorway he briefly brushes the younger’s shoulder, the smallest gesture of comfort. It makes Flavio angry for a moment, feeling irrationally possessive, even though he has absolutely no right to be.
Then they’re alone in the locker room and Flavio realizes that Jakub’s still waiting for an answer. He swallows heavily around the lump in his throat. “Kuba, I don’t-”
“Why did you do it?”
“What? Sleep in your room or flirt with you?”
Jakub shrugs weakly. “Both.”
“Because,” Flavio says, “I start because Jannik told me to do it and now I can not think anymore when you touch me.”
Silence. Jakub stares.
“I think it is gonna be easy because we are friends already but then you keep touching me on the couch and you smile at me like that and I have, how do you say? Farfalle nello stomaco. Butterflies.”
Flavio shrugs, desperate and a bit helpless. “I did not think it will be like this when I say yes to Jannik. Is a problem, Jakub. You are very…” He gestures at Jakub’s entire existence, lets his eyes roam over long legs and a strong chest. “Attraente. And sweet.”
“Oh,” Jakub breathes out and runs a hand through his hair nervously before putting his cap back on, backwards. A lock of hair escapes through the gap and hangs across his forehead. The urge to take a step closer and tuck it back where it belongs makes Flavio’s fingertips tingle, so he balls his hands into fists at his sides.
Jakub crosses his arms and leans sideways against the doorframe. He clears his throat, mustering Flavio carefully. “So, ah. You…?”
“Like you? Sì.”
Jakub’s mouth drops open and he stares for another second. Then he bites his lip and hangs his head, fighting a smile. Something flutters in Flavio’s chest, but he squashes it down. They’re entering the dangerous territory of sincerity. He hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that, to make it sound like a confession, but Jakub’s reaction makes it hard to feel any kind of regret.
“Are there cameras in here?”
The question takes Flavio aback. He frowns. “Camera? No, I think- not in the locker room, in the gym, yes, but in here, no-”
Jakub takes two big steps, frames Flavio’s face between his hands and tilts it up to kiss him.
Oh.
Flavio responds like he’s drowning and surprises himself with the intensity of it, the urging sense of hunger. He holds onto Jakub’s waist, wrapping the fingers of his other hand around Jakub’s wrist, holding his hand in place. Jakub is taller than him, Flavio knows, but he never quite noticed how broad the younger is, how much physically bigger. He has to tilt his head up a fair bit for the kiss, which is new and incredibly, incredibly hot. Jakub kisses like he plays, big and aggressive and confident. Flavio responds in kind, sliding his hand lower and lower on Jakub’s back.
Jakub makes a desperate, whiny noise in the back of his throat and licks into Flavio’s mouth, which almost takes him out at the knees. Jakub wraps an arm around him and holds him up, effortlessly so, before he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against Flavio’s, hand sliding down to rest at his waist. They’re both breathing heavily. Flavio digs his fingertips into Jakub’s lower back, needing to hold on to something.
What the actual fuck.
Then Jakub huffs out a desperate, incredulous laugh and mutters something in Czech. Flavio hums questioningly and nudges Jakub’s nose with his own. Jakub pulls back the tiniest bit to look him in the eyes. “I wanted to kiss you at Wimbledon,” he whispers, voice low, sounding so young and earnest that Flavio’s heart skips a beat or three.
“Why didn’t you?,” he whispers back and giggles right after, because he’s an idiot. Jakub’s eyes flicker down to his lips and back up to his eyes. “Sure,” he says, barely concealing the amusement in his voice, “and when did you want me to kiss you? Before or after you wiped the court with me?”
“At changeover,” Flavio replies, keeping it together for approximately one and a half seconds before cracking up. He leans into Jakub and feels the laughter in the younger’s chest as they stand there together, laughing at their own stupid jokes. Jakub’s hand slides into Flavio’s hair at the back of his head and grabs it tightly, but not hard enough to be uncomfortable. Just holding. Grounding. Claiming maybe, a little bit, and that thought steals the laughter right out of Flavio’s lungs and goes straight to his dick.
But apparently he’s allowed to act on that now, so he fists one hand into Jakub’s shirt and pulls him back down to meet him in a kiss. Jakub responds eagerly, holding Flavio’s head firmly in place, the hand at his waist pulling him even closer into Jakub. Flavio whines at the contact, their groins pressing together.
“Kuba,” he says breathlessly, and it comes out sounding embarrassingly close to a moan. “Kuba, we have to stop.”
There’s a flicker of unease in Jakub’s expression, his fingers digging into the soft flesh at Flavio’s waist. “Not stop forever,” Flavio adds quickly when he looks at Jakub’s face. “Stop now. I want you very bad and this is a problem.”
Flavio can physically feel Jakub relax. “Doesn’t feel like a problem,” he replies cheekily, voice even deeper than usual and the easy confidence makes Flavio want to kiss that stupid smirk off his face.
So he does, briefly pulling at Jakub’s lower lip with his teeth before breaking the kiss again. “Yes,” he says, a bit breathless, “will be problem when I’m hard on the stupid couch in twenty minutes.”
Jakub scoffs. “I was hard on the couch the whole morning session yesterday. You will live.”
Flavio will not live, thank you very much, because hearing that out loud does nothing for his arousal except making him grow harder in his shorts. He groans, lets his head tip forward against Jakub’s chest. Jakub has the nerve to giggle.
“Carlitos said we were too obvious, you know. He asked if we did something already because we were so close.”
Flavio’s head shoots back up, almost hitting Jakub in the chin. “He what.”
“It’s why I pushed you away on the couch. You didn’t see?”
Flavio’s jaw drops. “Yes! Yes, I see but I think Carlos is jealous, no?”
“Please,” Jakub scoffs, “why would he be jealous. I’m not a redhead. Or number two in the world.”
“You know about Jannik and Carlos?” Flavio feels like he’s been pushed off a cliff. “You talk about them with Carlos?”
Jakub shrugs. “We talked about you too, you know.”
The feeling of falling intensifies. “You- what? Why you talk about me?”
“I told you,” Jakub whispers, voice dropping even lower. “I wanted to kiss you at Wimbledon.”
With that he wraps both arms around Flavio’s shoulders and pulls him back into a kiss so hot Flavio’s brain whites out for a second. He hums, letting his hand travel down to rest on Jakub’s hip, dangerously low.
Jakub catches his hand, breaking the kiss. “Fuck,” he whispers, biting his lip and looking up at the ceiling before locking eyes with Flavio. “How much time before the night session did you say?”
Flavio’s response comes about three seconds too late as he’s briefly distracted by the violent blue of Jakub’s eyes. “Ah, I don’t know. Maybe thirty minutes?”
“That’s enough,” Jakub decides, stealing one more kiss before pushing Flavio backwards all the way across the room into the showers.
The last thought Flavio has before his brain stops working is Grazie, Jannik.