Work Text:
„Here!“ Marco shouted over the pitch, in the direction of Erik who was in possession of the ball. The blond raised his arm in the air, winking and gesturing, yet, Erik passed the ball to Shinji instead. Shinji who was standing in a much worse position towards the goal. Why hadn’t Erik seen that?
Marco felt his temper rising, and then all the stress of the last days, the long journey to Tokyo, the exhausting signing sessions and the time difference took their toll.
„Fuck!“ Marco yelled, darting malicious gazes in Erik’s direction because damn, Shinji hadn’t been able to score at all. The blond stared at his younger teammate as if Erik was the sole reason for all the frazzle he felt. The tiredness stuck in his bones, his body hurt and all he wanted to do was take a rest - or shoot a goal.
They had a new trainer and although he knew that he was one of the best players in the team, he still wanted to impress him. But, how was he supposed to do that when this god-damn defender wasn’t able to provide him with thorough flanks?
Right with the whistle for the half-time, Marco darted into the locker room, waiting for Erik there. The brunet came in, slightly flinching when he saw his teammate who was obviously on fire.
„Erik, come over,“ Marco said and it wasn’t a plea, it was an order. He looked at the younger one strictly, ready to give him a proper talk. Erik approached with obvious hesitation. „What the hell were you doing out there? How do you think we will score when you’re not passing the ball to me?“ He knew that he sounded ridiculous, yet, it was somehow relieving to tell Erik who stood in front of him with hanging shoulders off.
Within the blink of an eye, Mats was at Erik’s side, flinging an arm around him. „Shut up,“ he said to Marco, „spare us your wisdom.“
„It’s okay, Mats,“ Erik shrugged, „he’s right.“ With these words, he walked away.
The blond looked after Erik surprised. He would have awaited more fightback and a real quarrel and instead, Erik’s reply had put him off his stride. Suddenly, Marco felt even more tired and weak - old, to be precise. Probably he had been too hard on Erik, he had to admit to himself.
***
In the second half of the test match, Marco didn’t even follow the game. He was sitting on the bench as well as Erik, gazing at him every now and then, noticing that the young defender looked as tired and beaten as he himself felt. The whole tour was exciting and interesting, but also incredibly straining.
Yet, the longer the game went on, the huger Marco’s bad conscience grew. Why the hell had he offended Erik in such a rude way? He shook his head over his own behavior, feeling a bitter taste in his mouth. All he knew was that he needed to find a way to make up for it. However, he wasn’t a man for big excuses. Usually, he showed his apology in deeds, not in words.
***
Marco’s moment came when the match was finished and photographers sprang at the team. Their last Asia tour had been years ago and the attention they raised was overwhelming. One particular photographer didn’t take his camera off Marco, making shots of the blond unceasingly.
Usually, Marco might have get annoyed about his manner and the constant flashlights but now, he had an idea. He turned around, looking for Erik, seeing that the young defender followed him in a safe distance of about ten meters. Marco felt a lump in his throat when he recognized that Erik winced when their gazes met and he slowed down his own pace to let the younger one catch up with him.
Erik however started to walk slower, too, until Marco lost patience and simply stood still, waiting until the brunet joined him, looking at him insecurely. „Hey, Erik,“ Marco said as warm-heartedly as he was able to, „do you see this photographer over there?“ He nodded in the direction of the man who was still busy taking pictures.
„Eh, yes,“ Erik stuttered, on alert what Marco was up to. Apparently, he awaited another insult but, the midfielder surprised him. Marco reached his hand out to Erik and took it gently, pulling the younger one with him. He smiled at Erik, still holding his hand that felt so good, letting the photographer take images of both of them together, united, hand in hand.
At first, Erik held Marco’s hand hesitantly but, the longer their palms touched, the firmer his grip got, until a wide grin appeared all over his face. „I hope we get to see these pictures,“ Marco mumbled, a strange feeling spreading out in his guts. He let go of Erik’s hand only reluctantly, his fingers missing the smoothness of it immediately afterwards. His palm tingled and tickled, seeming to be the most vivid part of his body at the moment although the gentle skin contact had surprisingly reached into deeper regions, as well.
„Me, too,“ Erik whispered back, his cheeks flashing red, looking down at his hand in disbelief.
Marco winked at him with a cheeky grin on his face before he went back to the locker room. He took his time with the shower, letting the warm water run over his exhausted body. Teammate after teammate left the wet room until he could hear only the sound of one other shower running. Eventually, he turned off the water and the other person stopped his, too.
The midfielder dried himself off quickly, flinging a towel around his hips. The locker room was almost empty, most of the players already next door, eating a light meal. Then, the blond heard steps behind him and saw Erik coming out of the shower room. Unconsciously, he let his gaze wander up and down his body and started to dawdle and dart Erik a look every now and then.
Erik didn’t seem to be in a hurry, either, his eyes wandering over to Marco every now and then. Whenever their eyes met, Erik’s cheeks flushed anew and Marco heard his own heartbeat a little bit louder. He took his time, slipping in his briefs and running the towel over his legs up another time, although they had been already bone-dry, fumbling with his socks to shoot Erik another look under his eyelashes while he picked them up from the floor.
By the time Marco had both of his socks on his feet, wasting time to get more of the impressive sight, Erik still sat on the bench opposite to him, only wearing a towel and putting on some lotion onto his skin in a torturously slow pace. He rubbed it into his arms, his legs and his chest, taking his time before he let the towel fall, searching for his briefs.
Marco held his breath for what felt like an eternity, his eyes glued to Erik’s body until his throat ran dry. He stood up, walked over to a table in the middle of the locker room and grabbed a bottle of water, gulping down the whole content in huge sips.
In the meantime, Erik put a shirt on, yet, he didn’t make an effort to go on with dressing. He brushed his still wet hair, went over to the mirror and brought the strands into order with his fingers.
Erik’s actions reminded Marco of his own hairstyle and he took some hair gel out, spreading it onto his fingers and working it into his hair before a sudden idea hit him. „May I?“ he suggested gently, joining Erik in front of the mirror, nudging him a little bit away with his arm. The touch sent another shiver down his body and then, their gazes met for the umpteenth time, yet, this time, in the mirror. And somehow it was easier for Marco this way to ask the question he had wanted to ask since they had started to play along in the locker room.
„Next week, when we are back in Dortmund,“ he said, clearing his throat, waiting for Erik’s reaction.
„Hm?“ the brunet tried to stay unimpressed but Marco could tell that he wasn’t, regarding his trembling fingers and the strand of his hair that stood upright now where it should be fixed down.
„Maybe we should go out together?“ Marco said as innocently as possible although he didn’t have innocent thoughts anymore.
„Together?“ Erik echoed, holding onto his hairbrush like onto an anchor. „You and me? Did you actually talk about us going on a...“
„On a date,“ Marco finished the sentence for him, facing his younger teammate tenderly, astonished with how much tension he waited for Erik’s reply.
The eyes of the younger one grew big, an expression of pure bliss clearly visible on his face. „Yes,“ he stammered incredulously, „my God, yes!“ Marco mirrored his smile, feeling light-hearted and dizzy when Erik added another sentence, his voice shaking.
„But only if I can hold your hand once again, then.“