darrus (darrus) wrote,

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Coach OTP fic - Perhaps Love


Author: 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: a stressing match.

Author's notes, previous chapters and music here

Timeline for the series is here 

Aguas de Inverno


“Calm down”, Hansi’s even voice brings him to his senses. Thank God for Hansi.


The stadium is roaring.


And out they go.


“Calm down”, repeats Hansi. And slaps him over the pocket with a gesture of professional thief. Another funny moment.


Today’s match is so entertaining.


“Calm down”, whispers Olli. And leads him up the stairs. Right to Merkel.


“Bet what’ll be her first words to me?”


Olli laughs.


“Calm down”, smiles she. “Everything will be alright”, she adds.


Oh, these women.


Calm down.


Another pass into nothing. Now he’s having a better view.


Such a brilliant opportunity to analyze tactical schemes.


The phone ringing in the pocket of his jacket.


Daniela. How surprising.


Should have left the phone in a locker room like always.


Who else will be calling to tell him to calm down?


Torrent of calls to be expected after the start of the second half.


“Calm down”, intones Olli once more.


“Am I not calm enough?”


Good for him to keep silence.


And thank God for Michael.


The stadium is almost vibrating. Red color is everywhere.


And yet another call. From Daniela again.


Who will be answering the phone while watching such an interesting match? With two teams that are unable to score.


Calm down.


“He looks good out there. Headcoach’s job suits him”. Olli pointing at Flick.


“He does”.


As long as there’s no ‘Cordoba reloaded’, all is well.


Another call from Daniela. Where is Jürgen?


Bastian looking uncomfortable. “Don’t worry, Jogi, they won’t score”.


Of course they won’t. They can’t.


Calm down.


The phone ringing. Not Jürgen.


Annoying little thing.


Opening the hand. Letting the phone drop. Accidentally.


Olli’s hand catching it before it hits the floor.


“Calm down, Jogi”.


He smiles.


Applauding and cheering. The job is safe. The Quarterfinal is reached.


Andy pats him on the back.


“Calm down”.


No, they’re making fun at him.


Worried that he’ll go berserk at the press-conference? Good idea.


Calm down.


Congratulating the team. Telling them off. Telling them to rest.


Checking the phone.


No messages and no calls.


Calm down.


Getting back to hotel. Eating some pasta.


Leaving the table as soon as possible. With Hansi.


Pausing at the door to bid good night.


“Calm down”, says Hansi in half-voice and slaps him lightly on his lower back. Again? Is it meant to be suggestive? “Or you need some help in doing it?”


Hansi’s smile is cheerfully-understanding. It’s impossible to take offence even if the idea came to his head. Such a friendly offering.




“Thanks, I’ll manage”.


Making a bad job of it so far. Sardonic answers are not the way.


Hansi raises his hands in mock surrender.


“You see,” this to the ceiling, “I’ve done all I could do”.


Hansi may be overplaying it a bit this time. But his calmness and self-assured movements are exactly what is needed. And his humor.


“Night”, he slams the door shut.


No light in the room. No need for it.


The jacket lands on the armchair.


Open the balcony door. The wind is cold. Way to calm down.


The shirt falls to the floor.


The phone comes to life at the push of the button. Bright colors flashing on the screen.


Missed calls – Daniela. Missed messages – Daniela. Rolf. Markus.


The phone lands on the bed with a soft thud.


He steps onto the crumpled shirt – by accident. Shouldn’t be throwing the things around, right?


Even in the darkness the stain of dirt is clearly visible on white cloth.




Calm down.


He turns the water on.


He’s told Hansi that he’ll manage it himself? Well, well.


Wrapping a hand around his half-hard cock.


Masturbating in the shower. How unoriginal.


The only thing left is to imagine some pictures from Playboy. Girls in pink bunny-outfits maybe?


Everything is better than remembering Gomez’s attempt to score a goal from three centimeters. Or another one of Jens’ mistakes.




Matches of German National team – patented method to get rid of the hard-on.


He leans at the wall, laughing.


Calm down.


Step out of the shower. Cold makes him shiver. Was a bad idea to leave the windows opened.


He still wants to laugh.


Take the first bottle from the shelf. Scotch it is then.


He takes a big gulp right from the bottle. Not bothering with a glass.


Definitely not his favorite taste, but will do.


The bottle goes onto the bedside table. He’s not done with it yet.


No new messages. No new calls.


Damn it all.


Desire to hurl the phone into the opposite wall becomes overwhelming.


He carefully puts the thing down close to the bottle.


The bed is soft and welcoming.


Calm down.


Another big gulp of amber liquid. Does it count as ‘drinking himself to sleep’?


And even if it does. The last time he’s done it was twelve years ago. He has a right to do something stupid once in a while.


And they’re in the Quarterfinal. A reason to celebrate.


He salutes his reflection with a bottle before putting it back.


Time to sleep.


Calm down.





Jürgen calls. Jokes about the game. Gently teases about nerves and ways to settle them. Wishes luck.


Hansi laughs. Jokes out loud (“So, I am the Bundestrainer now and you all better listen to me or else!”). Gets everyone into the light mood.


Jogi smiles. Chats animatedly with Jens. Calm and composed as always, letting his humor shine.


Andy eats his pancakes. Enjoys them for once.


Journalists write about lost matches that make proud and victories that bring shame.


Everyone is waiting for the next match.





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