darrus (darrus) wrote,
darrus
darrus

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Coach OTP fic - Perhaps Love


LEARNING TO FLY

Author
: darrus
Fandom: German National team
Pairing: Klinsmann/Loew
Rating: NC17
Language: English
Warning: RPS

Disclamer: 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: Starts right where "Rainbow" ends

Author's notes, previous chapters and music here


Learning to Fly

 

There is silence between them, and in this moment of absolute stillness he knows, with frightening certainty, that Jürgen understands. That Jürgen knows all the reasons behind his unreasonable behavior and sees it for what it is – a cry for attention of a man who needs more, much more than he has. And there is fear in the back of his mind, fear that everything will end here, right now, in this moment of silence, and at the same time there is a sense of freedom, absurd and unexplainable, that makes him want to laugh. There will be no lies between them from now on.

 

And he knows, after all these years, that he is unable to read Jürgen. So he just has to wait for Jürgen to speak. He expects to hear anything, absolutely anything. He waits for a joke, waits for disgust, or hurting words, or pity, even for a suggestion to forget it all, or maybe an attempt to help. But Jürgen never does what others expect him to do, and he proves it again, saying the words he doesn’t expect to hear.

 

“It’s madness, Joachim”.

 

And he hears what Jürgen doesn’t say. Not young anymore. Families. Public attention. And he answers to these thoughts before Jürgen is able to voice them.

 

“I don’t care”.

 

It doesn’t matter. It all doesn’t matter, and he couldn’t care less that they are both in their forties and they are both married and there is German press, hungry for sensations, and if any of this becomes public… It’s not important, there is nothing more important than this man standing before him, in the middle of a brightly lit street, golden and beautiful and so close… And Jürgen seems to understand him, because he repeats:

 

“It’s madness”.

 

His voice sounds as if he is trying to convince himself too, as if he is fighting with something inside him, as if he tries to make a decision, and the words fall from his lips before he is able to think about them:

 

“I’m sorry”.

 

They’re talking between words, answering to each other’s thoughts, ability that is always driving people around them crazy. He asks for forgiveness for breaking Jürgen’s inner peace, and Jürgen understands it, waves it away with one gesture, because there are more important things to talk about.

 

“It will hardly be more than a one night stand”. Jürgen looks like he is freezing, but the evening is still warm. He wants to laugh, he wants to answer, to say that he’ll have a one night stand if it is all he can have, and Jürgen seems to read it too, because he continues, and his voice is quiet:

 

“I will hurt you, Joachim”.

 

He doesn’t even need to say his line, ‘you already do’ hangs between them in the air. And suddenly Jürgen touches his hand, and his eyes are blue – the color of a sky after the rain, and there are no words any more.

 

They walk hand in hand, Jürgen leads the way and he follows, not asking where. This is like his first attempt with a paraplane and feelings that went with it – fear of the emptiness under him and this incomparable feeling of flight, of speed and power and freedom. And he is ready to admit to himself that he is scared, because it is something he’s never done before and because it will change everything for him, but it doesn’t matter too. The hotel room door closes behind them with a soft click, and Jürgen leaves the key in the lock. They don’t need to turn on the light, the streets are still brightly lit and they can see each other, standing face to face like that.

 

Jürgen kisses him softly, it’s almost chaste. Just a touch of their lips, first attempt at exploration. It’s sweet, and it feels so good, and he allows Jürgen to deepen the kiss, to do everything he wants to do. The lights of a passing by car paint golden lines on the ceiling. Jürgen’s hands are strong and gentle, touching his shoulders, first caress, first touch of a lover.

 

He knows what will happen now, he’s heard of it, but it’s no more than a theory to him, and he doesn’t know what to do. He hardly even dares to touch Jürgen, now that he is allowed to do it. But it doesn’t matter, Jürgen knows what he is doing. And he trusts Jürgen not to hurt him, and he will forgive if Jürgen does.

 

Their embrace is tender, almost hesitant, and Jürgen is still kissing him lightly, carefully, as if afraid to break him. He allows Jürgen to lead, although it’s not something he is used to, he was always the one in control before. And there is still not a single word spoken between them. It seems that from the moment their hands touched there, under the night sky in the middle of a busy street, it turned into something more than words, something deeper and more meaningful than any phrase the man can compose. His shirt falls to the floor, and Jürgen is caressing him again, and their lips are still touching. His hands are moving over Jürgen’s body, and he doesn’t know if he is doing everything right, but he doesn’t care as long as Jürgen allows him to do it, because he’s wanted it for so long, and now it happens, it really happens, and it’s not a dream.

 

Gentle fingers undo the buckle on his watch, and it slides from his arm onto the soft carpet with a barely audible sound. He is aware of his body suddenly, the feeling is awkward, and he is grateful for the darkness. As if Jürgen never saw his body before, but this time it’s different, it’s more, it’s their first time, and he has to fight this ridiculous urge to cover himself, to hide from these sky-colored eyes. Jürgen kisses him again, there’s still more tenderness than passion in this kiss. The sheets are cold under his back, and there is a faint scent of freshness and flowers, probably something they are using to wash the linens. He feels the strong body above him, every touch makes him melt, makes him want for more, and he is trying to give Jürgen as much pleasure as he himself is feeling, and there are still no words and no words are needed.

 

Jürgen’s fingers are probing him gently, and he has to fight back the fear. It’s something forbidden, something that shouldn’t be done, and he knows that it will hurt, but he is ready, he needs it, and Jürgen is so tender with him. They are still kissing, caressing each other, and he feels rather than sees Jürgen reaching out to take something from bedside table. The touch is slick now, and he feels the finger inside him, stretching, caressing, slowly and gently. It’s not unpleasant, rather uncomfortable, and there is no pain, but he knows, he is absolutely sure that Jürgen is the only one he will ever allow to do this to him. Soft lips are touching his face, and he feels Jürgen enter him and yes, it hurts. It’s not much of a pain, just a feeling of being stretched beyond comfortable. And it feels good too, because Jürgen is as close to him now as two people can be, they are really lovers now, and it’s driving him mad to hear Jürgen sighing softly in pleasure and it’s worth feeling a little pain. He needs more, and he tries to move faster, but Jürgen’s hand is firm on his hip, holding him, allowing him to get used to these sensations, they are kissing again, moving slowly. And suddenly there is a blinding pleasure, like he never felt before, and he moans, arching his back, and he thinks that he sees Jürgen smile before his lips are captured again in a passionate kiss. Jürgen is moving faster now, and there is no pain anymore, though this small part of his mind that still is able to think logically tells him that it’s only illusion and he’ll pay for it tomorrow, but it doesn’t matter now. Nothing matters but these sensations and Jürgen’s lips on his, and it’s too much, too much… He feels like falling, like flying, and there is this half whisper, half sigh – “Joachim”. And somehow it is more important, more intimate, more intense than everything that happened before – to hear his name, his full name said in this tone, with mixed satisfaction and gratefulness and care.

 

Jürgen’s hands are moving over his hips, the touch is tender, soothing. He presses his lips to Jürgen’s throat, feeling the pulse racing but becoming slower and slower. There is no doubt now, Jürgen is smiling, and he is aware that he is smiling too, probably looking like a fool, and there are still no words. Jürgen tries to move, and he doesn’t allow it, still holding him close, unwilling to break the embrace, and he hears Jürgen laugh softly, settling near him, head on his shoulder. It’s more than he ever dared to dream about, it’s everything he ever wanted, and right now, in this dark hotel room, holding his beloved, his lover in his arms, he is the happiest man in the World. He has nothing to compare with this feeling, not even flight, and for the moment, before he closes his eyes, he allows himself to wish that it will last.

 

tbc

 

20.09.2006

Tags: coach otp, fanfiction, football, klinsmann, loew, perhaps love, slash, soccer
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