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bronze_ribbonsNerve is less pinched, thank goodness. Was up almost all night writing. Am supposed to be whaling through something else right now. Bunnies are scary, especially when they look like this:
Which led to this:
Title: Cover
Author:bronze_ribbons
Pairing: Roger Federer/Rafael Nadal
Words: 400
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Real names, fictional people.
Roger almost didn't recognize himself in his dream, what with its funhouse-mirror-style changes to his body. It made him chunkier in the torso and smaller in the fingers and distinctly shorter than Rafa-- which wasn't true, at least not physically. Roger was willing to admit to himself that Rafa had the larger soul-- you didn't have to be a Sherlock Holmes to observe how Rafa was more sweet, more generous, more genuine-- but he also really wished that people would stop expecting him to live up to Rafa's example. Roger had worked so hard to curb his temper and to cultivate a friendly façade-- and to do so without losing his winner's edge. Did people truly not realize how changing his personality was so much harder than, say, sticking to a diet? Look at how many people failed at that! And yet they expected him somehow to come up with the right words and the best gestures every time, all of the time--
Roger shook his head. He needed to stop reading the press if it was going to mess with his naps like this. On the other hand, given everything that that had been spouted about his Wimbledon clothes, maybe... Roger reached for his phone and punched the speed-dial key for Rafa's number.
"Rogi! Was thinking about you!"
"Thinking good things, I hope?"
"I think is good, but you will not. You know I have new bike, si?"
"Ouais, I saw it in L'Equipe." Rafa's the real reason Roger resumed reading the papers: some days, it was all he got to see or hear of the guy-- "You gonna bring it to Wollerau anytime soon?"
"I have to ride up and down mountains to do that, no?" Rafa is trying to sound serious, and that already has Roger giggling before Rafa adds, "You know, they say, is important to wear leather when riding. I think, how do you say, lederhosen--"
"Stop it! You can't wear leather shorts on a Harley--"
"Andy Roddick's wife, she wear bikini on a bike."
"It doesn't count if the bike's not moving!"
"So I stop the bike before I put on shorts, no?"
Roger knows it's his turn to lob back a joke. But he has been picturing to himself how Rafa would look-- how his skin would taste after being enclosed in leather-- and suddenly Roger has no words at all.
 |
Which led to this:
Title: Cover
Author:
bronze_ribbonsPairing: Roger Federer/Rafael Nadal
Words: 400
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Real names, fictional people.
Roger almost didn't recognize himself in his dream, what with its funhouse-mirror-style changes to his body. It made him chunkier in the torso and smaller in the fingers and distinctly shorter than Rafa-- which wasn't true, at least not physically. Roger was willing to admit to himself that Rafa had the larger soul-- you didn't have to be a Sherlock Holmes to observe how Rafa was more sweet, more generous, more genuine-- but he also really wished that people would stop expecting him to live up to Rafa's example. Roger had worked so hard to curb his temper and to cultivate a friendly façade-- and to do so without losing his winner's edge. Did people truly not realize how changing his personality was so much harder than, say, sticking to a diet? Look at how many people failed at that! And yet they expected him somehow to come up with the right words and the best gestures every time, all of the time--
Roger shook his head. He needed to stop reading the press if it was going to mess with his naps like this. On the other hand, given everything that that had been spouted about his Wimbledon clothes, maybe... Roger reached for his phone and punched the speed-dial key for Rafa's number.
"Rogi! Was thinking about you!"
"Thinking good things, I hope?"
"I think is good, but you will not. You know I have new bike, si?"
"Ouais, I saw it in L'Equipe." Rafa's the real reason Roger resumed reading the papers: some days, it was all he got to see or hear of the guy-- "You gonna bring it to Wollerau anytime soon?"
"I have to ride up and down mountains to do that, no?" Rafa is trying to sound serious, and that already has Roger giggling before Rafa adds, "You know, they say, is important to wear leather when riding. I think, how do you say, lederhosen--"
"Stop it! You can't wear leather shorts on a Harley--"
"Andy Roddick's wife, she wear bikini on a bike."
"It doesn't count if the bike's not moving!"
"So I stop the bike before I put on shorts, no?"
Roger knows it's his turn to lob back a joke. But he has been picturing to himself how Rafa would look-- how his skin would taste after being enclosed in leather-- and suddenly Roger has no words at all.
