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Carlos had been training for hours now. He felt hot and breathless and was drenched in sweat but his mouth was dry and tacky. He should stop, he needs to stop. Blind and sun burned but like a man possessed Carlos kept going. He needed to keep going. The ball bounced off the racket;
Again,
Again,
Again.
His lungs burned, his muscles burned, his skin burned, the very core of his being burned. Carlos Alcaraz was not a person at this moment, he was a star, a white hot star. Every nerve, bone, tendon was overcome with a viscous white heat. It was enough to set the world alight. And it was enough to keep him going, pushing to keep training and hitting that ball;
Again,
Again,
Again.
He couldn’t take this anymore. It was killing him, burning him from the inside out and like a great star, he felt he would soon collapse in on himself. And what was fueling this white hot flame inside him and that was surely driving him mad? Carlos knew what, or who it was.
It was,
“Tell me what you want Carlos.”
Sinner.
Jannik Sinner was what has set him alight. His friend, his rival and his lover, Jannik Sinner had consumed his mind, body and soul. Carlos could not help but obsess over everything about him, how could he not.
Sinner was a machine. He treated tennis like war and his body was a weapon of mass destruction. Carlos recognised such a creature when he saw one, they were of the same kind. Like attracts like and it was impossible not to be dragged into Sinner’s orbit.
“Show me how much you want it”
He was talented and funny and humble and disciplined and so, so beautiful, it made Carlos feel ill. And what was worse is that Sinner didn’t seem to be aware of these facts, totally oblivious to how perfect he was.
How could anyone see that face every time they look in the mirror and not be hypnotised by their own beauty.
They’d hooked up once or twice now. It was inevitable. After all the hidden glances, the flirting, the touching, it couldn’t have ended any other way. His prayers had been answered, his nightly lustful prayers had finally been answered.
But why does Carlos still burn?
“Kiss me Carlos.”
At night, Sinner comes to him in his dreams. Like a siren, he calls out to him, luring him to his doom. They embrace, and while in Sinner’s arms Carlos is certain he will die.
“I need you, Carlos.”
He can’t escape him. His lust has become a curse. On the court, off the court, in bed, in the shower, everywhere and anywhere, all Carlos thinks of is Jannik Sinner. His fiery curls, his crooked smile, his laugh, his voice, his eyes, his- his-
“Harder Carlos, harder”.
“Fuck!” Carlos threw his racket to the ground, maybe he should call it a day. Training wasn’t going to change anything was it? Just like how sleeping with Sinner hasn’t changed anything. They’ve fucked and yet Carlos is still on fire. The fire grows every time he sees Jannik in interviews, on his instagram, in magazines and tv ads, it’s like the universe is taunting him with his greatest weakness.
Carlos packs up his stuff and leaves the court. Once he’s home, he can burn in peace.