LOVE IS WAR (2)
Fandom: German National team
Pairing: Klinsmann/Loew, Flick/Markus Loew
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: bar scene continues.
Author's notes, previous chapters and music here
Timeline for the series is here
Love Is War (2)
There is no such thing as an accidental meeting, so he only shrugs inwardly when Hansi sits down at his table cheerfully praising the happy coincidence that brought them together here at this place.
“What brings you here?” Asks he, a bit too harsh maybe, but trying to stay on the ground of common courtesy.
“Personal matters, my friend, personal matters”, and Hansi smiles enigmatically.
For one, Flick is drunk. Not ‘three sheets to the wind’ drunk of course, but enough for it to be noticeable. ‘Personal matters or personal problems, huh?’, thinks he sardonically and doesn’t even feel ashamed. God, he dislikes the man.
And Flick is staring at him. And it’s the second problem – for some reason the man in front of him scares him. These cold eyes, staring at him almost without blinking, and he is… well, afraid.
‘Damn it all’.
Well, it pretty much sums up everything. The man he least of all wanted to meet – and here he is, at his table. Looks like he’ll have to find another place to eat lunch at, because in such company it’ll be impossible to enjoy the food. Or – he chuckles openly here – Flick will be able to poison the main course just with his presence alone.
“You’re in a good mood, I see”, and one more time he has to notice that in Flick’s presence his imagination suddenly starts working on overdrive. Inspirationary influence maybe.
Anyway, he hears something ominous in Hansi’s tone, and he doesn’t like it one bit.
“I hope you’re not driving – in the state you are?”
Hansi laughs an leans closer to him – almost too close.
“Are you offering me a lift?”
“No, I sure am not”, and though he understands how rudely it may have sounded he takes a pause before adding. “I don’t have my car with me”.
“Then we should take taxi together”, laughs Flick. “It will be fun riding… as far as we can”. And Hansi pats his hand and covers it with his palm.
Yes, pats his hand and covers it with his palm.
Well, maybe his imagination is still overactive. Hyperactive rather.
“I”, his tone is cold, “don’t find riding the taxi with… a man particularly interesting.”
“Yes?” And Flick would have passed for genuinely surprised, if not for this mocking smile and cold, cold eyes. “But you’re missing a lot then. It’s such a pleasant way to pass time.”
And now it’s official, thinks he to himself grimly – Flick is making advances on him. And doing not so great job of it, by the way. If he wanted something – and here he chuckles again – he shouldn’t have had so much to drink.
“Maybe, but only for those who have enough time to pass. And sadly I don’t. Have to go, was a pleasure to meet you here”.
And Hansi laughs, really laughs out loud, throwing his head back and unable to stop.
“You… You are so afraid of me that you run off as soon as you can? Oh I wish I would be able to instill such fear in my players!”
“I’m not afraid of you”, answers he quietly, but he’s not sure if his voice betrayed him or not. “But I have to leave or I’ll be late for the meeting”.
“Oh yes, really”, Flick still is laughing. “Are you afraid of me or are you just scared of being alone with another man?”
“Goodbye, Hansi. See you later”, he takes his coat off the rack and turns to leave.
“If that is so”, it seems that Hansi didn’t even hear his last words, “then you should really talk to your brother. He’ll tell you so many interesting things about it…”
He leaves without turning, and Flick’s laughter is the last sound he hears before he slams the door shut.
The street is filled with people, and the warm sun shines in a deep blue sky.