[oneshot] spinning at the speed of sound
Title: spinning at the speed of sound
Pairing: thomas müller/miroslav klose
Rating: pg13 for language
Genre: gen, introspective, slice-of-life
Warnings: swearing
Author: gdgdbaby
Notes: for nautisch, 1,063 words. five pieces of advice miro gives thomas.
1. When they sit down in the bus after the game against Spain, the first thing Miro does is tell him to calm the fuck down.
The abrupt comment shocks him into momentary silence. And then-"I didn't even say anything."
"Didn't have to," he retorts, crossing his arms over his chest and looking out the tinted window, eyes unseeing. "I know how it feels to lose like this."
Thomas doesn't have to ask what he means, because he already knows.
2. "Aren't you disappointed? Angry?"
Miro snorts into the palm of his hand. "We just lost two zero to Dortmund, you tell me."
"You don't look angry. You seem fine. Irritated, maybe, but fine."
"First thing you're supposed to learn, kid," he replies, reaching up to cuff Thomas's head lightly. "Hide the extent of your rage or sadness or even your elation in the heat of the moment-
"Right, right," Thomas cuts in, exhaling slowly. "So I don't say stupid shit that reporters can use against me in the future."
"You're not very good at concealing your feelings," he says, not unkindly, "but you'll get it. You've got time."
There's a pang in Thomas's chest when he remembers that he does, but Miro doesn't.
3. They decide not to go to Oktoberfest. On paper (to the press, officially) it's a unanimous decision made by the whole team. In real life, though, things are never that perfect. Thomas has mixed feelings about the subject-he understands that everyone's furious, that the fans could lash out if they went to the celebrations, that the upper management isn't happy at all, but he doesn't think further punishment is going to help them play any better.
When he brings it up with Miro, the striker sighs and shakes his head. "At times like these, it's better to just keep your mouth shut," he says. Thomas listens to him and says nothing, but the team's low morale speaks for itself-cuts tempers as short as they can go, sparks arguments out of nothing.
4. "We'll be fine," Jogi tells them on the Tuesday before their game. "Really."
Thomas turns to glance at his teammates, the small sea of red, black, and white scattered around the locker room. Hansi is checking things off on a clipboard, a worried look on his face, the familiar one that the assistant manager has worn before other important games-like the one against Spain, if Thomas had to give an example.
"It's not about which players we have on the field," he continues, and it's like some sort of pep talk their coach snagged from one of those cheesy, inspirational movies; Thomas can see people starting to tune it out because really, they've heard this all before. Lukas is on the other side of the long bench and he pulls his phone out, sends a quick text that's probably meant for Bastian.
"We won't be doing normal training today, just some recovery exercises," Jogi says, clapping his hands once, twice, then walking to the door. "Be prepared to train in the next couple of days, though. And Lukas, stop texting when I'm talking." The midfielder grins sheepishly and tucks his phone back into his bag.
The day passes and bleeds slowly into the next. Mesut fidgets his way through every meal and looks increasingly discomfited after they train, even though his passes are still their usual controlled and smooth, even though his form is still impeccable. Thomas tries to find time to ask him if something's going on, but there's a presidential awards ceremony to attend and he doesn't get the chance.
Angela Merkel wears a plethora of different expressions after all the pomp and circumstance is over-for most of the post-ceremony mingling time, she's either blank or scowling.
"Is she angry at us or something?" Thomas asks cautiously.
Miro shrugs next to him and takes a sip of water. "Don't worry about it," he says, grinning. "She's just disappointed that Bastian couldn't make it."
Mesut cracks a smile at this, the first real one that Thomas has seen on his face in a while. "Hey," he says, nudging Mesut's shoulder with the corner of his certificate's cover. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," he replies, a shade too fast to be completely believable. Thomas raises his eyebrows and he sighs, looks down and rubs at the casing of his silver pin. "The game against Turkey won't be pretty."
"What do you mean?"
"He's a third-generation Turk, Thomas, you know this," Miro says, crossing his arms. "We'll probably get more Turkish fans in the stands than our own on Friday."
Mesut shakes his head. "There are people who'd tell me that I'm selling out by playing for Germany."
"That's ridiculous," Thomas says. "Have you talked to Lukas about it?"
"Not really," he says, shifting uncomfortably. "It's fine, I can handle it on my own. There are worse things that could happen." Thomas opens his mouth to say more, but Miro stomps on his foot and he clamps it shut, shoots him a glare.
"What was that for?" he asks when Mesut wanders off to talk to Sami and Mario.
"If you want to help him, you'll let him deal with it himself," is all Miro says. It doesn't occur to Thomas until later that he and Lukas have probably gone through the same thing.
5. Thomas is literally thrumming with excitement when the final whistles blow, still reeling from the last goal three minutes before the end. He's light-headed when he walks off the pitch, can barely even speak when Jogi reaches out to clasp his hand, or when they're raising their hands as one in front of the sweeping audience of black, red, and yellow.
He tries to retain a modicum of composure when they make their way back to the bench, but Miro spots him and catches his arm, bends in to say something.
"You can think it's just a qualifier and that it doesn't warrant so much celebration, but what kind of reaction is that?" Miro laughs, nudging his shoulder. Around them, their teammates are grinning and screaming at each other over the noise of the crowd. Manuel is giving an interview somewhere behind the safety pads and advertisements. "Today is your day, and there'll be more to come. Go crazy, get drunk, jump everyone you see. Celebrate."
Thomas does.
fin
A/N: title from adding to the noise by switchfoot.
Pairing: thomas müller/miroslav klose
Rating: pg13 for language
Genre: gen, introspective, slice-of-life
Warnings: swearing
Author: gdgdbaby
Notes: for nautisch, 1,063 words. five pieces of advice miro gives thomas.
1. When they sit down in the bus after the game against Spain, the first thing Miro does is tell him to calm the fuck down.
The abrupt comment shocks him into momentary silence. And then-"I didn't even say anything."
"Didn't have to," he retorts, crossing his arms over his chest and looking out the tinted window, eyes unseeing. "I know how it feels to lose like this."
Thomas doesn't have to ask what he means, because he already knows.
2. "Aren't you disappointed? Angry?"
Miro snorts into the palm of his hand. "We just lost two zero to Dortmund, you tell me."
"You don't look angry. You seem fine. Irritated, maybe, but fine."
"First thing you're supposed to learn, kid," he replies, reaching up to cuff Thomas's head lightly. "Hide the extent of your rage or sadness or even your elation in the heat of the moment-
"Right, right," Thomas cuts in, exhaling slowly. "So I don't say stupid shit that reporters can use against me in the future."
"You're not very good at concealing your feelings," he says, not unkindly, "but you'll get it. You've got time."
There's a pang in Thomas's chest when he remembers that he does, but Miro doesn't.
3. They decide not to go to Oktoberfest. On paper (to the press, officially) it's a unanimous decision made by the whole team. In real life, though, things are never that perfect. Thomas has mixed feelings about the subject-he understands that everyone's furious, that the fans could lash out if they went to the celebrations, that the upper management isn't happy at all, but he doesn't think further punishment is going to help them play any better.
When he brings it up with Miro, the striker sighs and shakes his head. "At times like these, it's better to just keep your mouth shut," he says. Thomas listens to him and says nothing, but the team's low morale speaks for itself-cuts tempers as short as they can go, sparks arguments out of nothing.
4. "We'll be fine," Jogi tells them on the Tuesday before their game. "Really."
Thomas turns to glance at his teammates, the small sea of red, black, and white scattered around the locker room. Hansi is checking things off on a clipboard, a worried look on his face, the familiar one that the assistant manager has worn before other important games-like the one against Spain, if Thomas had to give an example.
"It's not about which players we have on the field," he continues, and it's like some sort of pep talk their coach snagged from one of those cheesy, inspirational movies; Thomas can see people starting to tune it out because really, they've heard this all before. Lukas is on the other side of the long bench and he pulls his phone out, sends a quick text that's probably meant for Bastian.
"We won't be doing normal training today, just some recovery exercises," Jogi says, clapping his hands once, twice, then walking to the door. "Be prepared to train in the next couple of days, though. And Lukas, stop texting when I'm talking." The midfielder grins sheepishly and tucks his phone back into his bag.
The day passes and bleeds slowly into the next. Mesut fidgets his way through every meal and looks increasingly discomfited after they train, even though his passes are still their usual controlled and smooth, even though his form is still impeccable. Thomas tries to find time to ask him if something's going on, but there's a presidential awards ceremony to attend and he doesn't get the chance.
Angela Merkel wears a plethora of different expressions after all the pomp and circumstance is over-for most of the post-ceremony mingling time, she's either blank or scowling.
"Is she angry at us or something?" Thomas asks cautiously.
Miro shrugs next to him and takes a sip of water. "Don't worry about it," he says, grinning. "She's just disappointed that Bastian couldn't make it."
Mesut cracks a smile at this, the first real one that Thomas has seen on his face in a while. "Hey," he says, nudging Mesut's shoulder with the corner of his certificate's cover. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," he replies, a shade too fast to be completely believable. Thomas raises his eyebrows and he sighs, looks down and rubs at the casing of his silver pin. "The game against Turkey won't be pretty."
"What do you mean?"
"He's a third-generation Turk, Thomas, you know this," Miro says, crossing his arms. "We'll probably get more Turkish fans in the stands than our own on Friday."
Mesut shakes his head. "There are people who'd tell me that I'm selling out by playing for Germany."
"That's ridiculous," Thomas says. "Have you talked to Lukas about it?"
"Not really," he says, shifting uncomfortably. "It's fine, I can handle it on my own. There are worse things that could happen." Thomas opens his mouth to say more, but Miro stomps on his foot and he clamps it shut, shoots him a glare.
"What was that for?" he asks when Mesut wanders off to talk to Sami and Mario.
"If you want to help him, you'll let him deal with it himself," is all Miro says. It doesn't occur to Thomas until later that he and Lukas have probably gone through the same thing.
5. Thomas is literally thrumming with excitement when the final whistles blow, still reeling from the last goal three minutes before the end. He's light-headed when he walks off the pitch, can barely even speak when Jogi reaches out to clasp his hand, or when they're raising their hands as one in front of the sweeping audience of black, red, and yellow.
He tries to retain a modicum of composure when they make their way back to the bench, but Miro spots him and catches his arm, bends in to say something.
"You can think it's just a qualifier and that it doesn't warrant so much celebration, but what kind of reaction is that?" Miro laughs, nudging his shoulder. Around them, their teammates are grinning and screaming at each other over the noise of the crowd. Manuel is giving an interview somewhere behind the safety pads and advertisements. "Today is your day, and there'll be more to come. Go crazy, get drunk, jump everyone you see. Celebrate."
Thomas does.
fin
A/N: title from adding to the noise by switchfoot.