darrus (darrus) wrote,

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Coach OTP fic - Perhaps Love


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

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: The morning after, and the problems are still there...

Author's notes, previous chapters and music here

Timeline for the series is here 

Not Just a Flower In Your Hair


Turning the water off, he looks in the mirror. What he sees there can probably be considered satisfying, and he smiles at his reflection, running his hand through still-wet hair. Leaving the bathroom, he is prepared for another of their morning battles. One thing Joachim dislikes with all his heart is waking up early, and getting him out of bed in the morning is always a problem, though a very pleasant one.


To his surprise, Joachim is standing in the middle of the room, with only his jeans on, trying to scowl and yawn in the same time.


“Awake already?” He laughs, looking at his lover’s sleepy face.


“Am I looking like someone who is awake?” Joachim starts in the direction of a bathroom.


He looks at the man before him.


“I think you do”.


“Whatever. Breakfast is on the table, though I’m probably too asleep to eat anyway.”

He laughs again, turning the TV on. Quiet rambling of another commentator fills the room, mixing with the muffled sounds of falling water. Taking the newspaper from the tray, he opens it and leans back in his chair, reading lazily through the headlines. Sound of his mobile phone ringing startles him a little, but he decides not to take it, continuing to turn the pages slowly, not paying much attention to what he is reading.


Joachim falls down on the chair in front of him, looking a little more alert. His hair looks like he has forgotten to brush it.


He smiles, folding the newspaper.


“What are you smiling at?” Joachim sounds a little annoyed.


“I just love how you are in the mornings. Just like my cat when it is sleeping on my chair and I try to get it out of it.”


“Great. Now I am being compared to a cat.” Joachim looks ready to burst into laughter. “What next?”


“My dear cat Jogi, kitty-kitty”.


“Meow! Are we going to eat?”


“We are”, he starts pouring coffee into the cups, enjoying the sight of his lover laughing.


Jogi takes a pancake from the plate.


“What are you going to do now?”


“Go home”, he smiles. “Why do you ask?”


“I thought you might stay in Europe for a few more days”.


“What for?”


The pause seems heavy. Joachim is looking intently at him, as if trying to catch him on some lie or maybe read his thoughts.


“What, Joachim?”


“I just thought”, his lover is speaking slower than usually, “that you’ll use the opportunity to visit some of your friends”.


“I’ve seen everyone I wanted to see earlier this week, you know that the journalists sent me home yesterday already”.


Joachim nods shortly, turning his attention back to his plate.


He sighs.


“What’s wrong, Joachim?”


“Nothing”, the answer is a bit too quick to be convincing. “I was wondering how you manage to find time to keep in contact with all your friends around the World”.


“There is always a phone”, they laugh. Joachim makes a face, looking at the TV screen.


“By God, he seems to be everywhere”.


He lifts his head, in time to see Lothar – again Lothar – talking about something with another reporter.


“Isn’t he himself tired of speaking with everyone about everything?” Jogi laughs, returning to his coffee.


“’Salzburg’ is now the biggest thing in Austrian football, no wonder he is everywhere”, he pours himself another glass of juice.


“I just remember how we were beating his ‘Rapid’ soundly. Now that was a sight”.


“Well, now they are beating everyone, and if you don’t want to see ‘Salzburg’’s coaches, you’d do better not to watch the Austrian TV”.


“FC Hollywood number two?”


He moans.


“Don’t remind me!”


Joachim stands up and turns the TV off.




They smile at each other. He puts his cup away and stands up too.


“I’d like to come to one of your matches. Will it be acceptable?”


Joachim kisses him quickly and looks at him, thinking.


“You know I’ll be only happy to see you, and Andy with Olli will be glad too. But if you will be seen…”


He sighs.


“Yes, yes, I know. Damned journalists.”


“I’ll be happy to see you at the match”.


“Maybe when you’ll be playing England? It will be much easier to disappear in the crowd”.


He sees Joachim’s expression become harsher.


“You’re much too fond of England”.


“What it is, Joachim?” He speaks quietly, as if afraid to raise his voice.


“Nothing”, equally quiet, and this time without further explanation.


They are standing too close to each other, and it is just so natural to embrace. He kisses Joachim’s lips, almost ready to get no response, but his lips are met eagerly, too eagerly, there is too much passion in this kiss, something that reminds him again…


No, he doesn’t want to think about it.


“What is it?” He is looking in his lover’s eyes. They are dark-grey, so dark that the color is closer to hazel.


“I don’t like England.” And Joachim kisses him, this time very softly, with such tenderness that it makes him melt.


“Why?” They both are almost whispering now.


“Their weather”.


They kiss again. He feels the pangs of consciousness, he promised himself yesterday to speak with Joachim once and for all, but… But there is always a but, and now there is simply no time, though he scolds himself for taking the coward’s way out. But somehow he is glad to delay this talk till the next meeting. And when they meet again, then, for sure…


Or maybe it will just go away by itself, or maybe Joachim will decide to tell what is bothering him, or maybe…


“I’ll bring you to the airport”.


He shakes his head, smiling at his lover.


“No, you’ll be late for a meeting with your stuff. I’ll take a taxi”. They are still embracing. “I just hope you’ll be calling me more often”, and Joachim nods, smiling.


“I will. Next time?”


“After your match, that’s for sure. Just don’t disappear for some days like you did last week”.


“I’ll be calling every day, I promised”. Another quick kiss. “So?”


“Let’s go”, but even saying that he makes no move to break the embrace. Joachim laughs, pushing him away playfully.


“Go, or you’ll be late”.


And one more kiss.


“I’ll be missing you”.


And another kiss.


“Me too. Go”.


And they kiss once more.





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