COMING AROUND AGAIN (3)
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.
Author's notes, previous chapters and music here
Timeline for the series is here
Coming Around Again (3)
Touching him with the liberty only lover can afford. Kissing just above the collarbone, nibbling softly till he starts moaning. And then again, and hands moving lower - to touch and to caress.
Everything is allowed - everything is possible. Stretching a bit in reaction to his fingers across the shoulderblade, moving a bit to allow him better access. Whispering the name - into his mouth, before kissing him - or maybe it is him who initiates the kiss... It is impossible to tell anymore. Being so close together, being as one.
Surfacing for breath and whispering the name again.
Feeling his hands - warm and soft, strength that the years of physical training brings almost disguised by tenderness, but still there. Incredibly arousing, feeling the firmness of this well-toned body, possessing it, claiming. Sensing every small movement that betray desire, the need, small impatient jerks of his hips. His body pressed to the bed. A whisper from his lips.
'Yes', the reply comes out almost smug, and is replaced by a deep moan when his hand reaches between their entwined bodies to run over his cock. Teasingly slow and light. Thrusting against the touch, making him smile and smiling in reply - and then moaning again because his touch becomes insistent, the caress faster and faster. Moving away before it comes too far, not wanting it to end too quickly.
Turning him over on his stomach. Placing fleeting kisses all over his shoulders. Slowly entering him, fingers at first, stretching his body and making him relax. Not wanting to be too fast but unable to wait, gasping for breath hearing his insistent 'now'. And then talking him, feeling the pleasure move in shots across the body. Biting his skin to make him almost cry out, mindless of leaving the mark - even taking additional pleasure in it. Inhaling his scent - sweat, shampoo and aftershave combined. Getting lost in sensation. Groaning his name again through clenched teeth and hearing his wordless moan, followed by a whisper.
Clinging together, holding each other through aftershocks of orgasm, laughing without words and not caring about the cooling moisture on the skin and not thinking about the time.
It's a long and tiring drive home, with only Xavier Naidoo's voice for company. The disk appeared in the player as if by its own will, and the music is so fitting to the moment that he is ready to believe in the outer force living in the stereosystem.
Traffic lights are winking at him. Only two hours together it was, not nearly enough - but better then nothing nd positively great. Contented smile doesn't leave his face the whole way.
He pulls off in front of the house and leaves the car on the street. Opens the door, trying not to fiddle with the keys too loudly. Daniela should be asleep already, and indeed she is, the lights are off except for one lamp, casting its soft light around. Waiting for him.
He leaves his clothes on a chair in the hall, moving softly to avoid making sounds. Lingers in the shower, relaxing under the stream of warm water till his eyes are almost closed.
Dives under the covers on his side of bed. Daniela murmurs something, not quite awake, he just kisses her temple and she is asleep again.
He closes his eyes, smile on his face.