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Ring, ring.
Without even looking at his phone screen, Jürgen already had a hunch about who was calling.
He had given his phone number to Pep Guardiola after their Supercup match in July. Jürgen had, just like everyone else, seen the successes of Pep's team in Spain, and held much respect for him in that regard. He also knew, however, that a fresh start in a new country could never be easy. Because Jürgen figured that he was probably one of the first German managers Pep would have a significant encounter with upon arrival, he had taken it upon himself to make Pep feel welcome, and so he had offered his number out of courtesy. If you need anything, Jürgen had said.
What he didn't expect, perhaps naively of him, was for Pep to actually call.
For the fourth time in as many weeks, Jürgen's phone was ringing. And it was always calls, not just text messages. Jürgen had never been great at answering the phone — all his friends had eventually come to learn this — but now, he felt like he had to try his best to always pick up out of respect for the other manager. He was the one who had offered his number, after all.
Ring, ring.
"Hello?" he finally said.
"Jürgen, it's Pep."
That was another thing. For the longest time now, ever since his days as a player, everyone had called him Kloppo . His players, the fans, the German media, you name it. The only people in recent memory who had called him by his first name were romantic partners; Jürgen just sounded strange to him coming from anyone else. Yet when it was Pep who said it, he found that he had little desire to correct him. Coming from someone who was not a native speaker, he supposed he did not mind it as much.
"Hi, Pep," he greeted. If Pep wanted to appear friendly by insisting on using his given name and the informal pronoun, then Jürgen would simply do the same. "How's it going?"
"Good, good," came the voice from his phone speaker.
"Did you end up buying that dresser?"
"Sorry, a dresser?"
Jürgen frowned to himself. "Last time you said you wanted help looking for a new dresser for your apartment?"
"Oh, sorry… yeah. Everything is good now."
Slightly bemused by Pep's reaction, Jürgen decided to move past the subject. "What are you calling for?"
"I wanted to know if you knew what type of music is popular here, for the dressing room, so I can play it."
Jürgen pondered this for a few moments. Surely it would be better for Pep to ask his own players what they preferred to listen to, but perhaps tastes were too diverse to form a consensus. It could happen. In that case, he could provide an answer of his own. "One really popular song from last year is Tage wie diese by Die Toten Hosen, it's like rock a little bit. You can play the whole album if you want, or other songs by them. People here also like hip-hop, but maybe I am not the right age for that."
He continued to list a few other examples, with Pep continuously backchanneling enthusiastic responses. After he felt like he had sufficiently answered the question, Pep thanked him. For a moment, it sounded like their conversation had come to a close, until Pep spoke again. "What music do you like to listen to?"
Jürgen answered automatically, without stopping to think about any potential motive behind the question. "I would say… I like rock, or metal. I like the Beatles, Genesis, Kiss, these types of bands. But really, I listen to a lot of different things."
"Okay," Pep said, for perhaps the fifth time. "Thank you."
And that was it.
He paused. "...You're welcome."
That had felt a bit strange. It was also not the first time he had gotten this feeling, in their limited interactions with each other, but Jürgen couldn't quite place his finger on what exactly was setting it off. Rather, he wasn't sure if he understood Pep's intentions. Regardless, he would continue to keep his word to Pep, and it wasn't as if Jürgen hated talking to him. So it was all fine, he was sure.
"Bye, Jürgen."
There was that Jürgen again. The more he heard it coming from Pep's mouth, the more he felt that maybe the name didn't sound so bad after all.
"Goodbye, Pep."
Perhaps it was just the Spanish accent.
He had come to expect, subconsciously, Pep's weekly calls after a while. They always came on Sunday evenings, and always around the same time. After Pep had used up seemingly every excuse on earth to call him — Jürgen finally caught on when Pep had asked him, from hundreds of miles away, to help set up a piece of furniture — they transitioned to talking more about themselves and their own lives. And, of course, they spoke about football. Though they obviously could not discuss details regarding their own teams, they would often discuss things such as other matches in the league, who they thought would be a threat in the upcoming World Cup, or anything else that came to mind. It seemed to Jürgen that conversation between the two of them flowed easily, regardless of the subject of discussion.
Jürgen had already settled in for the night, having had a full day of rest after Dortmund's league match the previous day. He had also taken the day to disconnect more generally from football, deciding not to watch other teams' matches in order to let his mind relax. He could do his analyses during the week. Yet as the evening had progressed, Jürgen had begun to harbor a growing feeling that something was missing. As if he should be doing something he was forgetting. In the end, he chalked it up to simply not having taken a break for a while, though he went to bed with his thoughts preoccupied still.
It was not until he woke up and checked the scores for the Sunday matches that he realized: Bayern had played in the evening. And so Pep had not called at his usual time.
Well, at least he had found the source of his restlessness.
Had he missed talking to Pep? This was a feeling new to him. It was strange, for him to be missing someone. At this stage in his life, he was old enough to be content and secure in his relationships. Jürgen was completely fine if his friends were too busy to text him occasionally — God knew he was the same — and so he never chased people around looking for attention. At no point was he ever disappointed to not hear from anyone. Until now, apparently.
As he and Pep had come to speak regularly, Jürgen found that any initial feelings of reservation he harbored had all but faded, and that they had been replaced with something akin to comfort. He couldn't deny now that he actually quite liked talking to Pep. He found Pep easy to talk to — despite Pep still occasionally struggling with the language, something inside him chuckled. Jürgen liked hearing about Pep's thoughts, thoughts that were often fairly different compared to his own. He liked learning little details about Pep's previous managerial position or even his time as a player. He liked everything about it.
But of course, this by itself did not mean anything. In general, Jürgen always appreciated the opportunity to meet and learn more about different people. Was there anything about Pep that could potentially differentiate him from everyone else?
Well, he was certainly good-looking.
Jürgen nearly facepalmed at the thought that had immediately jumped to his mind. However, it wasn't untrue. Though they had only met that one time so far, Jürgen remembered how he had been struck by how poised Pep had looked in person. What that meant for Jürgen himself, he wasn't quite sure yet.
He supposed he didn't have to think about the exact nature of his feelings right this moment. But either way, Jürgen decided, it would perhaps be nice to meet Pep in person once again. Specifically outside of work-related circumstances, in order to truly get an understanding of how he felt. After a quick glance at his schedule, he texted Pep an invitation to meet up and spend some time together, wording it carefully and neutrally so as to not belie any particular motives. He chose the day before the match in which they next faced each other, which happened to be a home match for Dortmund. This would make things more convenient for their schedules.
His phone buzzed with a response to his message not long after. Reading over the words on his screen, the slight tension in Jürgen's shoulders relaxed, and he didn't stop to think twice about the elation that had washed through him. He was only focused on the fact that Pep had agreed.
Well. At least now with all that sorted, he could go about the rest of the day. And if he was perhaps in a bit of a brighter mood than usual at training, none of his players said a word.
When Pep arrived, they greeted each other with a hug, not unlike their first meeting.
"How is everything? Did you travel okay?" Jürgen asked as they separated, gesturing for him to come inside.
Jürgen had given Pep the address to his house a few days in advance so that they could coordinate schedules. It was then agreed that Pep would meet him late in the evening for dinner together before returning to the hotel.
"Yeah, good," Pep said. "Last time I wasn't really here for that long, so today I wanted to explore a little bit of the city."
Jürgen winced. "Sorry." The reason he had specifically told Pep to meet him at his home instead of a public restaurant was for fear of the media and other strangers bothering them. He had lived in Dortmund for years, and so was accustomed to the media's watchful eye, but he did not want to subject it to someone who was just visiting. However, Pep did seem like someone who valued privacy, so Jürgen hoped that he understood the decision.
Pep let out a small laugh. "That's okay."
"What do you want to eat for dinner? There are a couple restaurants I like that we can order from."
"Oh, you can choose," Pep said readily. "I want to see what is your favorite."
They ended up ordering by phone from one of Jürgen's favorite restaurants. Jürgen decided on an egg noodle dish, something he ordered quite frequently, while Pep took his pick from the seafood menu. Pep also seemed unusually enthusiastic about ordering wine for the two of them to share, though Jürgen did not have the heart to tell him that he greatly preferred beer. So wine it was, Jürgen nodding his head at the brand Pep chose as if he would even remember its name the day after.
Conversation flowed smoothly while they waited for the food to arrive. It was just as in their phone calls, discussing anything and everything that came to mind — except, of course, their plans for the game the next day. Jürgen figured that Pep had to be quite hungry after a long day of travel, so once the restaurant's delivery did finally come, they quieted down to be able to focus on their respective meals. The wine ended up being split between them in glasses that Jürgen had dug out of the back of an old cabinet.
As they neared towards finishing their plates, Pep initiated conversation with him once more, which Jürgen was more than willing to reciprocate. He sipped his glass politely between dialogues, whereas Pep seemed happy to drink without inhibition. Eventually, a slight lull in the conversation prompted Jürgen to stand up and collect his now-empty plates in hand. He gestured to Pep's side of the table, a silent offer to take his plates as well, to which Pep shook his head.
"No, no, it's okay."
Jürgen mentally shrugged and made his way to the kitchen sink. He could hear Pep following after him, a few paces behind. Depositing the dishes in the sink — he would wash them once he was alone — he turned at the sensation of a hand placed on his back, only to be met with a close-up view of Pep's face. Jürgen made a small noise of surprise, taken aback by the intensity he sensed in Pep's eyes, but for a second, neither of them moved.
Jürgen wasn't drunk. He was certain he had not had enough wine, and his tolerance level for alcohol in general was high. And yet…
Pep really was quite attractive, wasn't he?
Slowly, he brought a hand up to caress the back of Pep's neck. Pep remained unmoving, still staring into Jürgen's eyes. He didn't know how long they stood there for, each enraptured by a sea of brown or blue. Jürgen was the one who eventually looked away first, only for his gaze to then fall upon Pep's lips.
The next thing he knew, those lips were on his. Jürgen instinctively closed his eyes into the kiss, holding Pep closer using the hand on his nape. One of Pep's arms had made its way around Jürgen's waist, and his touch was forceful in comparison to his soft lips. Jürgen realized that he didn't mind either. In fact, he was quite enjoying himself, evidenced by the feelings beginning to pool in his groin.
He had an inkling that Pep felt the same, given that Pep was more or less groping his chest through his layers of clothing as if he couldn't wait to take them off. Pep's insistence had even backed Jürgen up against the counter, which was now digging uncomfortably into his backside.
Well, he was old-fashioned — and also simply old, his mind unhelpfully provided. He would just have to invite Pep into his bedroom properly.
They made their way into Jürgen's bedroom in due course, Pep immediately shoving him in the direction of the bed. He chose to first sit down on the edge, where Pep bent down to reconnect their mouths. He felt as though desire was passing through their bodies and connecting them.
A thought then struck Jürgen's mind. "Just to let you know," he took the chance to say, after a momentary pause in their actions. "I don't have any condoms." In fact, he couldn't recall the last time he had even used one. He had never made casual sex a habit at any stage in his lifetime. It was seemingly just one more thing for him that Pep was an exception for.
"It's okay," Pep dismissed easily. "You can get some for next time."
He wanted a next time?
"O-oh, um, yeah, of course," Jürgen managed to stutter out. He hoped that his initial shock did not reflect on his face. Luckily, Pep was not looking at him, having already busied himself with undoing the zipper of Jürgen's jeans.
Pep then tugged at Jürgen's waistband, clearly indicating what he wanted. Jürgen aided Pep in sliding down his pants, though still in the back of his mind was Pep's proposal for a next time — and how he didn't realize how much he wanted it until he had heard it put into words. Jürgen wasn't the type to think obsessively about the future, but if this was potentially what it was going to hold, then…
His thoughts were interrupted by the sensation of lips wrapping around his length, and the evening ticked on as he lost himself to pleasure.
When all was said and done on both parts, Pep decided that it was probably time for him to head back to their hotel. Indeed, staying out for too long could potentially arouse suspicion. At the door, they kissed briefly once more before separating for the last time that night.
"Good night," Jürgen said. "And good luck."
"You too." And then Pep was gone.
Without forgetting to wash the dishes they had left in the sink, Jürgen elected to get ready to sleep soon after, in preparation for the match the next day. As he laid in his bed, he attempted to recall some important tactical details he and his team had worked out earlier. Yet somehow the only thing his mind could remember was the feeling of Pep's lips on his skin.
The match between them ended 0 to 3 in favor of Bayern. Frustrated as Jürgen was to lose, and in such a drastic manner, he knew he could not let the result get to him for too long. Afterwards, he and Pep had barely even had a chance to speak, with Bayern set to immediately fly to Moscow following their joint press conference. Jürgen went home later that night with the match still simmering in his mind, but knowing that a good night's sleep would help him move on to business as usual.
Another Sunday arrived. The usual time for Pep's phone call came and went. (Not that Jürgen was sitting around watching the clock and waiting for his phone to ring, of course.) Yet this weekend, there was no scheduled game.
Jürgen racked his brain for any possible explanations. He couldn't have been so bad at sex that Pep had no desire to see him again, could he? He chuckled to himself self-deprecatingly. No, perhaps Pep was just busy. But Jürgen supposed it couldn't hurt to check in. Every single week, it was always Pep who called first. Perhaps it would be time for Jürgen to take the initiative as well.
To his surprise, Pep picked up on the first try. So he wasn't busy, it seemed.
"Hello?" came Pep's voice through the receiver.
"Pep," Jürgen greeted. "It's Sunday. How are you?"
"Oh… good, I'm good," Pep responded slowly, and Jürgen was reminded of the awkwardness of some of their earlier phone calls. So he was being evasive again. "You are not mad?"
At this, Jürgen frowned, trying to think of anything that had happened recently to make him upset. "Why would I be?"
"We left early after the game, so I didn't get a chance to talk with you after, but you looked so angry. And I thought maybe you would still be mad, so…"
So that was why Pep hadn't called. Now knowing the full context of the situation, Jürgen couldn't help but laugh. "I don't care about that shit." He quickly corrected himself by adding, "Well, no, I do actually, but since last week, I've already forgotten about the result. And anyway for me, all these emotions belong on the pitch and so they stay on the pitch. Nowhere else. So it doesn't affect us at all."
"...Can you talk about the club rivalry to me? Between Bayern and Dortmund?"
And so Jürgen did. He talked about the history of the clubs, and while they did not have a long shared history, how recent years had certainly ramped up the hostility between the two fanbases. He brought up the 2013 Champions League final between the two clubs, which he had lost, though he carefully omitted his feelings on the transfer of Mario Götze from around that time. And he was sure Pep was aware of Bayern's financial power in comparison to the rest of the league. However, none of this overshadowed, he reiterated to Pep, any personal relationships he might share with people.
"So, it's how I said. Yes, there is a rivalry. No, I am not the kind of person to let that affect me outside of a footballing context."
Pep remained silent for a moment, and Jürgen was struck with the realization that Pep had been raised on the rivalry between Barcelona and Real Madrid. He also faintly remembered hearing about some incredibly toxic events occurring when a player transferred between the two clubs, for example. Of course Pep would have reservations around forming relationships with rivals now.
Well, Jürgen would simply have to lay his feelings out straight. Pep didn't know he had already won Jürgen over last week, and so now it was Jürgen's turn.
"Look, I know it will be… difficult, with everything we have going on — how busy we are — and with some things that we cannot talk about. But I really like you. Really, I do, and I would like to spend more time with you. So if you also want that, like I do, then I think…" Jürgen paused, in search of the right words. "We can consider this to be the start of something really special."
It was another moment before Pep finally spoke.
"...Yeah. I would really like that."