Featuring a very oblivious Carlos.
Ben and Flavio got into a fight again. It wasn't unheard of that players had beef on court, but such grudge seldom continued off court. Once the adrenaline wore off, it almost felt ridiculous that things actually got so heated on court. At the end of the day, they were rivals but also colleagues whose success depended on the sport itself. Drama was good, but too much drama would kill publicity. Any sensible man would know that childish dispute was meaningless in this line of work.
Not Ben and Flavio, though. They were known to be passionate both in their game play and their character. Well, passionate was a nice way to put it. Impulsive was the better description, or even explosive. It was safe to say that those two could not stay in the same room for more than 30 minutes without getting into a heated dispute. It was a miracle that they hadn’t punched each other yet. There might be an on-going pot about who was going to lose it first, but that was the story for another time.
“What’s deal with you guys?” Carlos asked his American friend as they walked onto the practice court. Carlos was the only one who was brave enough to bring up the topic, because who would blame Carlos Alcaraz, the kind soul?
“What?” Ben asked back, adjusting his headband. He didn’t look too keen to get into the talk.
“You and Flavio.” Carlos said, failing to notice the shift of the air again, “I heard things were getting heated between you guys again. What’s the matter? You can tell me. I won’t leak a word.”
“Nothing. He’s a dickhead, that’s all.” Ben replied, shrugging, trying to brush off the topic in his unique American way, “It’s really nothing. No worries, man.”
“You are both my good friends.” Carlos continued, clearly not going to give up so easily, “I just don’t want any bad blood between you.”
“I can guarantee you, there is none.” Ben said, shrugging off his jacket. It was strange that he managed to keep the jacket on until now in such intolerable heat.
Carlos still didn’t seem convinced, but he was smart enough to let the topic go. They did some warmup and began hitting balls back and forth. It was good to practice with a powerful player like Ben, whose style Carlos was not best at dealing with. Everything went smoothly, the awkward conversation before completely forgotten, until another player stepped onto the adjacent court.
Flavio waved at the pair as soon as he spotted them. He looked relaxed, comfortable, and clearly in a good mood.
“Ciao.” Flavio said as Carlos went back to get water, “Nice weather, isn’t it?”
It was rare for Flavio to start the conversation with weather. It was more of a British thing, if Carlos understood correctly. The Spaniard glanced at his practice partner immediately, and found Ben was at his side of the bench, tearing into an energy bar as if he had a personal grudge with it.
“Yeah, it’s nice. Perfect for practice, no?” Carlos turned back to Flavio, who was still smiling warmly, as if he was not the center of the gossip for the past two weeks, “How’s everything going?”
“Good,” Flavio nodded, flipping his racket, “Perfect.”
“With Ben?” Carlos asked, lowering his voice as he leaned into Flavio to keep the conversation private, “I heard you called each other names the other day.”
“Your gossip source seems not so accurate, Carlitos.” Flavio replied calmly, “I was the sole victim of the name calling, in fact. All I did was asking how was he doing, and he started calling me a dickhead and whatever colorful names they Americans have.”
Carlos wasn’t so sure about that. He knew Ben well enough to know that his American friend would not act rudely without a reason. But then again, he also knew Flavio. Flavio might appear playful, but he was also kind and friendly, not the type of person who would lie to get the moral ground.
“Because that’s what you deserve.” Another voice chimed in, deep and resonating, but without the usual chill and friendliness, “Get off my friend, Cobolli.”
“Hello to you too, dear.” Flavio smiled, lifting his head to stare into Ben’s eyes openly. He was shorter than Ben, and slimmer, but he never appeared small in front of the American. He was always confident, relaxed, and absolutely charming when it came to Ben.
Ben wasn’t impressed. He pulled Carlos back and hid the Spaniard behind his board shoulder, as if shielding his friend from imminent Italian hazard.
“I didn’t know you’d be there.” Ben said, almost accusingly.
“Change of plan. Had an urgent meeting later.” Flavio replied, not offended by Ben’s hostile attitude, “I sent you a text yesterday.”
Text? Weren’t they supposed to be fighting?
“Still doesn’t explain why you are harassing my friend.” Ben retorted with scoff, “I booked Carlos first. Hands off.”
“Are you jealous?” Flavio chuckled softly, his sexy Italian accent taking an alluring turn, “Don’t worry, babe. I don’t plan to steal from you.”
Ben visibly stiffed, shivering slightly as if Flavio’s words somewhat triggered him. What did Flavio say? Carlos didn’t catch that whispered phrase of Italian, but Ben definitely did. Since when did Ben learn so much Italian?
“You better.” Ben said, squeezing the words out between his teeth.
“I promise.” Flavio’s smile widened as he reached out to place his hand on Ben’s defined packs and squeezed gently, “I’ll see you later, yeah?”
Ben shook off the Italian’s hand before dragging Carlos back to their court. He was cursing unintelligibly under his breath, his cheeks turning a bright pink.
“Are you okay?” Carlos asked, looking at his friend worriedly, “Do you need more time to rest? You look a bit, uh, flushed.”
“I am fine.” Ben insisted, burying his face into a cold towel, his free hand grabbing the spot where Flavio had touched, “No worries.”
“Are you sure? You are both acting weirdly.” Carlos swore there must be something wrong between his two friends. He might be slow on catching emotions, but he was not a fool. Why was Ben clenching his arm so hard that his knuckles all turned white?
“Carlos,” Ben sighed heavily as he lifted his head from the towel, “do you really have to ask?”
Ben looked defeated and incredibly fragile now, his cheeks flushing, sweat dripping down from his hair, lower lips red and swollen, and his chest was heaving as if he was holding back on something.
“W-what?” Carlos asked lamely, somehow becoming self-conscious as well, “I am sorry. I really don’t know what happened between you two. You and Flavio are both my friends, okay? I know you are both good people and I just don’t-”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Carlos.” Ben shook his head, splashing sweat on Carlos like a spoiled puppy splashing water on his fellow playmate, “Is it not obvious enough? Do you really want me to tell you that we fucked and I can’t stand Flav’s smug face afterwards?”
WHAT? Carlos couldn’t believe his ears. He must have heard it wrong, right? It must be the heat, because what else could explain why Ben was confessing his sex life with a fellow player to Carlos? Ben and Flavio? Fucking?
“I think you have omitted quite a lot from our dear friend, babe.” Flavio came up to them as if he had been eavesdropping the whole time. Well, maybe he had.
Carlos looked between the pair, shocked and horrified. What had he done? He didn’t mean to pry, he swore. He was just too slow to recognize the subtle signs, and too kind to let the problem go.
Ben jumped a little when Flavio’s hand touched his shoulder, but he relaxed after a few seconds. Flavio kneaded his fingers into Ben’s strong muscle, slowly and skillfully, shaping the flesh as he liked, tanned fingers a sharp contrast to the full muscle. It could be read as a gesture of offering comfort, but somehow, it made Carlos blush. There was something erotic about the way Flavio moved his fingers, and the way Ben’s body reacted to it. Carlos felt like he was trespassing a private scene.
“Fuck off, Flav.” Ben muttered.
“You are only angry because you enjoyed being stretched too much and you couldn’t stop begging.”
Ben managed to shut Flavio up by a large hand over the Italian’s mouth. He looked more defeated than before, embarrassed, blushing like a tomato. Judging by the heat from his own cheeks, Carlos suspected he himself didn’t look much better.
“Just shut the fuck up.” Ben hissed.
Flavio raised both his hands in the form of surrender, but Ben wasn’t easily fooled. He kept placing his palm over Flavio’s face, and surprisingly, Flavio let him. The Italian was in no rush to push Ben off. On the contrary, he seemed to be enjoying this moment.
“So, you two?” Carlos asked, still a bit shocked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought you knew.” Ben replied, while Flavio blinked innocently, trying to speak with his eyes, “This big mouth told everyone in his Italian chat group-”
Flavio chose his moment to finally struggle out of Ben’s hands and reversed their position, now he was the one shutting Ben up. Where did he find the strength to control a big guy like Ben was totally beyond Carlos.
“I think you have scared Carlitos too much, babe.” Flavio said, the lower half of his face red, but somehow, he looked triumphant. “Sorry, Carlitos. It wasn’t my intention to reveal the news to you this way.”
Is there another way? Carlos wanted to ask, but he felt like an outsider now, and with the previous experience, he wasn’t going to ask anymore stupid question today. Ben and Flavio were still his good friends, and Carlos would not treat them any different after the revelation. He just hoped someone could have revealed the news to him more gently, instead of letting him find out in such an embarrassing way.
