Mmmm Carlos feeling kinda weird in Doha so Jannik goes 'what if you're pregnant?' and Carlos eyes go wide and is like ???!!!??? 'Janni dont be silly' 😦😳😳 so then it turns into a '5 times Jannik Sinner thought Carlos Alcaraz was pregnant and one time the spaniard finally took a test and confirmed it'.
All the while Jannik is just super happy he finally got his boyfriend pregnant after infinite amounts of fucking 🥰
Jannik slept with Carlos once. It was his biggest dirty secret that he planned to take to his grave. God would probably laugh at him when he made his confession on the deathbed, not because Jannik fucked his rival, but rather the fact that Jannik couldn’t let go. He went back to that drunken night over and over again, trying to recall every detail of what had happened, but to no avail. He couldn’t remember much, except that it felt incredibly good. The best sex he had ever experienced. Still was.
One thing Jannik did know, however, was that Carlos didn’t enjoy it at all. There was no other explanation why Carlos suddenly distanced himself from Jannik, to the extent that he announced a one-year leave from the tournament. Jannik tried to reach him, beg for him to stay, but Carlos just vanished, ignoring all Jannik’s texts and calls, as if Jannik
Being an alpha in professional sports was tough because you didn’t just compete on court. The competition was everywhere, in the locker room, in the hallway, in the hotel lobby, even in sponsor events. The primal, animalistic instinct to subdue any competition meant that the alphas had to spike their pheromones all the time to show superiority and power. It was exhausting to be the victim of biology. That was probably why Jannik sought Carlos’s company in the first place.
Carlos was an exception, not only in his brilliant play style, but also in his pheromone, or the lack of it. To everyone’s surprise, Carlos was not an alpha. Not an omega either. He was a beta, the majority of the population, but a minority in professional tennis. He had achieved more than most alpha players before he reached 22. He had won Grand Slam titles, made it to No.1 in ranking, impressed the whole world with his genius play, all the while being just a beta.
Jannik was intrigued from day one, not only by Carlos’s play, but also by the lack of pheromone scent from the boy across the net. Carlos smelled like sweat and sunscreen, nothing more, no aggressive pheromone, no suffocating scent, just Carlos. Jannik loved their little hug after the match. Alpha players didn’t hug, neither did they dare to invade the other’s territory, but Carlos was different. Jannik loved wrapping his arm around Carlos’s shoulder, letting the beta lean into him and taking in the scent of sun from Carlos’s hair. Sometimes, when Jannik was feeling particularly giddy, he would leave a hint of his scent on Carlos, cedar and musk, like a crisp winter morning in the mountains. He was always careful to leave just the right amount, not too much to draw attention, but enough to tell other alphas that he, Jannik Sinner, had been here.
The sex was a drunken mistake. Jannik had too much to drink, exhilarated by his record-breaking Grand Slam win, and ended up on Carlos’s doorstep. He was acting on auto-polit, letting his instinct take control of his mind and body, and his inner alpha just decided to snatch the prize he had long yearned for. He pushed Carlos against the wall and kissed him hard as soon as the beta opened the door. If Carlos struggled, Jannik didn’t remember. The next thing he knew, he was buried deep inside Carlos, emptying his load into his rival. Jannik had no idea how Carlos managed to take his knot, but it must be hard, judging from Carlos’s soft whimper. Jannik kept whispering soothing words into Carlos’s ear, planting little kisses on the beta’s neck, a twisted triumph filled his chest.
That was all Jannik could remember.
People always assumed that Carlos was the one who craved Jannik’s attention, but in fact, it was the other way around. It was Jannik who always sought out Carlos. He just hid it really well. Jannik liked to show off in front of Carlos, not to compete with him, but to impress. It was laughable, really, for Jannik trying to impress his beta rival like an alpha chasing after his omega. He liked to think he might be special to Carlos, always proud of how he managed to put a smile on Carlos’s lips, but he lost the privilege since he had crossed the line with Carlos.
After his one-year leave, Carlos came back. He didn’t change much, still a warm spirit who was always ready for a laugh, but to Jannik, the change couldn’t be more obvious. Carlos became…polite. It was not to say that he had been rude before, but he stopped the silly jokes and sometimes too intimate gestures. He stopped hugging Jannik after the match. He didn’t even want to shake Jannik’s hand, as if touching Jannik’s skin would make him sick. Literally. Jannik had seen him retching after their encounter, his cheek paler than Jannik had ever seen.
Perhaps that was Carlos’s way of telling him to keep his distance. So Jannik did. He should be thankful that Carlos didn’t press an assault charge on him. It was okay. It was how things were supposed to be. Jannik shouldn’t have developed feelings for his beta rival in the first place.
Carlos struggled during the season, because it was never easy to come back. Jannik remembered the first time he stepped onto the court after that three-months suspension, the pressure, the fear, the crowd, all too overwhelming. He could only imagine how Carlos felt after a whole year away from tennis. Yet, Carlos survived. He managed to earn back lost points and secured the fourth ranking when the year-end final came around.
The entire Alcaraz gang was present for Carlos’s semi-final against Jannik. They hadn’t had many encounters this season, so Jannik was thrilled to play Carlos again, like he always had been and always would. Their match stretched for nearly three hours until Jannik won at the tenth match point. Even though Jannik was the winner, the audience was clearly more focused on Carlos, because what he had shown in the past three hours was beautiful, both in technique and in mental strength. In Jannik’s opinion, it was more than beautiful. It was sacred.
Carlos shouldn’t have stayed on court, because the loser didn’t get to do press in the semi-finals. However, the audience thought otherwise. The host stopped Carlos before he could make his exit, and asked about how he felt coming back to court again.
“It’s good to be back, I mean, I can’t wait to play more tennis. Jannik played great today,” Carlos said, stealing a glance at Jannik, “he’s more prepared than me. I wish him good luck in the final.”
“I see your family is all here today. Did their support help you on court?”
“Oh, certainly. I can’t wish for anything better.” Carlos smiled and looked to box, where his parents, his brothers, and his whole team were there, cheering for their boy.
Naturally, Jannik followed Carlos’s gaze, and there he saw it, a small baby in the arms of Carlos’s mother. The baby clung to the woman, pacifier in mouth, big hazel eyes blinking at the crowd, some light-colored curls plastering on its forehead. Jannik’s breath caught in his throat, as if someone had just punched all the air from his lungs. He had a hard time processing the fact that the baby looked exactly like Carlos, apart from the hair color.
“Who is the baby, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Carlos looked a bit caught off guard, but not offended. His smile melted into something gentler and softer, as he waved at the baby, who waved back.
