Fandom: German National team
Pairing: Klinsmann/Loew, various
Disclaimer: I still don't know people mentioned in this story and I still hope it isn't true. The plot is still only my fantasy.
Summary: Loew's POV
Author's notes, previous chapters and music here
Timeline for the series is here
I still remember how his lips felt under mine when I was kissing him frantically. My goal then was to distract him from speaking, which I’ve achieved with a flourish. Whatever he was going to say to me – not a lot of opportunities he’s got. There was kissing, and then there was sex, and then there was no time, and this curious feeling – that we both are better for it – is still distracting me enough so that Hansi’s words are barely registering in my mind.
I breathe in and out and close the windowframe, leaving the rain outside. Hansi puts a hand on my shoulder.
Maybe it was Jürgen’s tone of voice, or maybe the words themselves. Just a simple answer to a very simple question, I’ve asked and he said ‘I’m sorry, I broke my phone’. Odd wording or odd thing to do, I’ve thought. And then I’ve thought that the next thing he says will be something I don’t want to hear.
He’s had no chance to say it – or anything else, though I think he’s tried. Now that I think back to the scene I am almost sure he was thinking about ways to reason with me, but I was doing my best to make him abandon the thought, and he’s surrendered in the end. Gave up to my advances and let me take his mind off the idea of talking things through – if he’s ever had this idea, that is.
But even now I shudder when I try to imagine what he was going to say.
“I understand”, mutters Hansi, barely above the whisper.
I look at his open face, I see caring in his eyes and his hesitant smile, and I wonder briefly what is it he understands and if I myself understand anything at all.
“Jogi, I… I know about your..” He’s stumbling over words and I suspect that it will be another example of the things I don’t want to hear. But he’s not Jürgen, so kissing him and making him shut up is out of question. And it means that I’ll have to hear what he is going to say.
He inhales deeply – to get his composure? And looks straight at me.
“I know about your relationship with Jürgen”.
‘There is no relationship’ is the instinctive reply, the one that I dare not voice – because the amount of truth behind it is suddenly so clear - and overwhelming and unbearable. I check myself and school my features, though if Hansi was looking he’s seen all the emotions written on my face already. And I simply ask: “How?”
“There were clues, and I’ve noticed…”, and his face is a mixture of worry and care. “I’ve just wanted to say… If you… Whenever you need a cover or any help or just anything”, he squeezes my shoulder tightly, “you know I’m always here, ok?”
I can only nod sharply, because the words will be too lame. I am grateful – not even for the offer, but just because I have him in my life, and I know that whenever I need him he indeed will be here. It means a lot. And much, much more.
He stirs beside me, says “I’m sorry I’ve…”, and I cut him off with a wave of my hand – it is I who should be sorry, for bringing my personal problems to work and making my friends deal with them. Am I unable to do it myself?
Maybe I am. Or at least, maybe I’ll find myself able to try.