The song is here.
FIRST OF MAY
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
First of May
One, two, three turns.
Pulling up in a narrow driveway. Step around empty water bottles.
Freshly painted door – but still the same shade of brown.
Unlit staircase. One flight up. Turn, and then up again.
Door without number.
Sunlight streaming through the window. Bed is neatly made. Clean smell, like in your average hotel. Tea-pot on the table.
He came first today.
When we’ve first met, it was a bit like a novel. If one of us later on decides to write *that* kind of autobiography, he’ll do well to avoid clichés in describing the circumstances – because it was so much like classical melodrama. And emerald-green grass, and spotlights above the stadium, and group of people around – totally unaware that something great is about to start right here and now. A bit like movies, really.
And if one of us decides to go on and write more about the scene – there’ll be a classical catchphrase, like ‘a couple of years have passed’… Actually, that one will do quite nicely.
Then there will be a long tale about getting to know each other, about falling in love and never noticing it until it is too late to do something about it. Then the story will turn to the side and start sounding more like an epic tale – because the World Championship is exactly that, the epic saga with the bitter end. And then back to romantic clichés – happiness born out of disappointment, and the story rolls on on its own course.
And it’s unlikely that one of us – whoever it may be – will get the urge to detail the everyday routine of this relationship. Phone calls, hotels, jealousy – and this apartment, rented not so long ago just to make at least some things easier.
And if one of us is going to be honest when he’s writing it down – it will be the tale of happiness, despite everything.
We can’t have enough – enough time together, enough love, enough joy, and hiding is always a complicated matter, carving out the secret relationship – this was never going to be easy, and every time the life intervenes – it doesn’t help.
The door opens, startling him. Jürgen is there, standing in the doorway, looking amused and…
And the other thing he sees in Jürgen’s face – and not only in his face, but his pose, movement of his head, the gesture when the blonde man carelessly throws his jacket onto the nearby chair…
Restlessness, a wistful tint in his smile, as if he’s a bit bored with things that surround him, but already sees something new, something different, interesting and unexplored, something that is big – and complicated – enough to catch his attention.
Over and out. Forget about things that are not even over yet. New project awaits.
Over and out.
He’s seen it already – this look on Jürgen’s face, and it was back then, in summer 2006, when Jürgen left. Left him, he thought at that time. Now, three years on – it’s all the same again, and he…
He is suddenly afraid, because now, this time there is too much to lose. But – Jürgen has this look on his face, and when he’s like that he doesn’t hear anything – or anyone, for that matter. He’s found something new already to catch his fancy. And it means more than everything else. At least for now. Some sort of tunnel vision, intensity that is kept deep inside – so deep that on the outside it looks like absent-mindedness.
And he asks the question that bothers him the most.
‘What will happen now?’
What will happen with us, now that you have found something else to do with your time? What will happen with this small apartment and the meetings planned well in advance? What about the plans that were made already? And what does the future hold?
But you smile, and that absent smile scares me more than I’d like to admit.
‘Everything will be fine, Jogi’.
Fine? Fine for you, for me, for us?
Damn you, can’t you answer the direct question just once, when it matters so much?
But when Jürgen is shielded with this smile – there’s no way to get through to him, or maybe he’s not yet been able to find this way, same difference in the end. Jürgen answers only the questions he wants to answer, no matter what is asked originally.
The bed is soft and warm, and falling asleep together, still bathing in the afterglow of the lovemaking – that is the best way to be.