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: There is no sound louder than the silence of the phone

Author's notes, previous chapters and music here

Timeline for the series is here 

Sleepy Shores


The phone is ringing. He sighs, rubbing his temples.


- Hello?

- Jürgen.


Wrong voice, not the one he is waiting to hear. Disappointment is the feeling that shouldn’t be here, and he has to gather himself so he won’t let the other notice that something is wrong. He is always glad to hear Rudi, his dear friend, but it’s just the wrong time. Right now, this morning he is waiting for another call, but it’s not the reason to take this off on Rudi, so he just smiles and asks his friend about things that are going on in Germany, and answers every question.


- And Daum is still going on and on about this transfer of Helmes, I’m starting to think that he is as crazy as “Bild”…

- Rudi!

- Oops… Did I just say this word? And why are you surprised, be glad that it’s the only swear word I’m using right now telling you about all this mess. – Rudi is laughing, and he laughs in return. – As crazy as four-letters are trying to make him look.

- Did he offend you?


And Rudi continues with the story, and he is listening with interest because his friend’s problem is somehow his problem too. But somewhere in the back of his mind there is this constant thought – what if in this same time…


Four days have passed since Joachim’s last call, and it’s unusual, and it makes him feel uneasy and worried. There was really no time to talk then, and he excused himself and explained the reasons, and Joachim assured him that he understands and it’s no problem. And he was sure that Joachim understood, but there was no call since then…


He turns back to his laptop, putting the phone down. Allianz Arena is still there, decorating the desktop, reminding him about these two years he’s spent with the National Team. He sighs again, opening another file.


In the silence of a still-sleeping house sound of the phone ringing seems louder than normal.


- Hello?

- Jürgen, dearest, so great to finally hear you, how is your beautiful wife?

- Good to hear you again, dear Aldo.


Switching to Italian language doesn’t take any effort, and this torrent of superlatives that is a usual way of speaking for every Italian makes him smile. But the voice is wrong again, and although he is happy, always happy to talk with Aldo, his former partner and his friend, today he can’t stop worrying that this conversation can make him miss the call he is waiting for.


Usually he doesn’t have this feeling. After all, if someone wants to talk with him on the phone they will talk, and it doesn’t matter if it will happen right now or twenty minutes later. It’s just that he can’t stop thinking that something is not right, and it makes him edgy.


He looks at the phone for some seconds, then starts dialing the number, but thinks better of it. It is still early, the working day is not ended yet, Jogi may be engaged in some talks, it won’t do to disturb him. He starts writing another email instead.


The phone startles him, and he almost spills his tea.


- Hello?

- Jürgen, I was told you called yesterday?


Another familiar voice, dear voice, wrong voice. They haven’t spoken with Thomas for almost a month, and now he really should be more glad to hear this accent that brought Icke his nickname.


- Yes, I wanted to congratulate you with becoming Berti’s assistant, could you ever imagine working as the second coach for the national team?

- No, I couldn’t, it’s great even if it’s not Germany, but still, and with Berti…


Thomas sounds enthusiastic and happy, he’s repeating it all maybe for the tenth time already – about Berti’s call and negotiations and his new field of work, but it’s clear that he is glad to talk about it one more time. It brings him joy to hear that one of his friends has found himself a task he is interested in and even more joy to know that his opinion is still important for Thomas.


Sunshine is one of the things he takes for granted living in California, almost every morning the sun appears in the sky, giving light and warmth to this land. He takes another apple from the plate and goes back to his work. His fingers are flying over the keyboard, he’s learned to type quickly no matter if he is writing in German or in English.


In silence the phone is ringing.


- Hello?

- Jürgen.

- Joachim.


And again silence. Not a brief pause they are always making after the greetings, filled with smile and warmth, but this uncomfortable silence like a gap that should be filled as quickly as possible.


- How was the game yesterday?

- You didn’t watch? Most boring, you wouldn’t even think looking at the score. And now it’s all overshadowed by the scandal, so really you haven’t missed anything at all, and I would have done better to miss it too, honestly.


Joachim’s words are too hurried, the tone is too light, and there is nothing to answer. There is a pause again.


- How is Jonathan’s tournament?

- They’re playing well so far, and it is starting to scare me when I hear how much he looks like me when he is playing football.


Another thread of conversation drowns in silence, both are searching for another theme to talk about.


- I don’t remember when was the last time I’ve heard anything from Olli, is he alright?

- Yes, he’s more than alright, happy with his duties as a father, if not for these problems with sponsors he would be the happiest man in the world.


Mere words, anything not to let silence come between them.


- Will you be in Europe anytime soon?

- I was planning to go to Austria in some days, will you have time?

- Sure, just tell me when.


Something is wrong, so very very wrong, and he is sure that it is because of that night, but he still can’t imagine what exactly was wrong then and Joachim doesn’t say.


He sighs again, returning to his work.





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