laurajoy
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Out on the deck, the sun is so bright Carlos has to shield his eyes from the blinding reflections dancing on the deep blue of the lake.
"So beautiful," Jannik says. He has come to stand right behind him to look over his shoulder, but Carlos doesn't need to look to know his exact position, the exact scrunch of Jannik's face in studious awe as he contemplates the lake.
A part of him always knows exactly where Jannik is, a part of him always tries to figure out exactly what he's thinking. Years of playing Jannik have left their mark, and now Carlos couldn't erase the knowledge even if he tried.
He ignores the warmth pooling in his belly.
After Wimbledon, both Carlos and Jannik only want to go somewhere no one knows them, where they can have a real holiday. When Juanki offers Carlos his holiday home, he invites Jannik along for some time away from the spotlight.
Away from prying eyes, will they become closer than ever? And what will happen when the world of social media notices their absence?
Bookmarked by laurajoy
02 Apr 2026
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"Something happened while he was out, exiled. While he watched from the sidelines as everybody kept improving and playing and giving interviews. While journalists and men of culture speculated about drugs he never used. Something in him stopped, in those interminable weeks, something in him broke and he can’t put it back together, regardless of how much he tries, how much he has tried for the last few months."
or,
Things get worse, and then they slowly get better.
Bookmarked by laurajoy
05 Feb 2026
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Jannik hits a clean shot, a lashing forehand that lands the ball deep in the ad court, grazing the line and lifting a wisp of white off the grass. The kick of the topspin dizzies the ball into the air. Carlos, out of position, jumps and lunges toward it, throwing all of his weight forward.
Jannik can tell he’s going to miss. He’s already turning to his team, one fist raised, when the ball whizzes past Carlos’s outstretched racket.
He doesn’t see Carlos land. He doesn’t see him collapse into the dirt.
He hears a crack, like a heavy tree branch, snapping in a windstorm.
He only looks back when Carlos starts screaming.
Bookmarked by laurajoy
31 Jan 2026
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Jannik Sinner is a beta. But, with his height, he could've been an alpha. There's strength in him, and sometimes, when he scores a good point, when Carlos knows Jannik feels in control, he'll shake the racket in his hand – as close to a celebration as he will usually allow himself to give –, and his eyes will look just dark enough. Threatening. Dominating.
Carlos doesn't let himself think about the other possibility. About the wide hips and the legs that go on for fucking miles, and the shyness and the awkwardness in interviews and the hard-won smiles. Because if Jannik were an omega – well, that would be a dangerous thought, wouldn't it?
Bookmarked by laurajoy
29 Jan 2026
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Carlos flinches, the remnants of a faint smile faltering at the edges. “Jannik—”
“Enjoy your win, Carlos. You earned it.”
He dresses quickly, movements clipped, damp skin protesting against fabric. When he zips up the bag, his fingers tremble. He hopes Carlos doesn’t notice.
“You don’t have to pretend we’re friends,” he says. “We’re not. Remember?”
He walks past him without waiting for a reply, shoulders stiff, head bowed. Leaves Carlos standing in the silence, holding nothing but the echo of his name.Defeat he can live with. Ache he cannot. After Paris, Jannik tries to bury both. But silence frays into longing, and every path — the court, the crowd, the quiet of his hotel room — seems to lead him back to Carlos.
Bookmarked by laurajoy
28 Jan 2026