Easier to pretend
Title: Easier to pretend
Pairing: Gerald Ciolek/Linus Gerdemann
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is not real, this never happened. I don't know them and this is all fiction. Made up stuff.
Author's Notes: For the doping challenge. Beta by metafic. Thanks to amato for the encouragement.
---
Linus
He always knew he'd say yes. It didn't matter who offered, there was never going to be any question. He knew before anyone else would have even considered it. Watching Jan made him understand that he could -- would -- only win with help.
The only things he hadn't counted on were the consequences and Gerald.
---
Gerald
No one ever plans to fall in love. But even so, he saw it happening a mile away. From the first moment he saw Linus, before he'd even properly met him, he knew. There was something about him that Gerald found himself unable to resist.
He was magnetic and Gerald learned to stop fighting and just give in. By the time he admitted to himself that he was in love, it was already too late.
---
Linus
There were things Linus never talked about and when he and Gerald started fucking, he resolved to never tell anyone, ever.
At first it was impossibly hard. He hated all the sneaking around, all the lying. But the rush, the thrill that what he was doing was wrong, was far greater than any sort of guilt he felt. It was then he realized he had no problem anymore lying to Gerald .
---
Gerald
Long before Gerald first slept with Linus, he knew something wasn't quite right. He wasn't sure what it was, but he kind of knew. It wasn't like he could just ask for a sample of his urine, it was the 20th Century and not Gattaca, for fuck's sake. But he knew that sometimes Linus disappeared and it wasn't just because he wanted to belong.
Once they started fucking, Gerald started to notice other things. It wasn't like Linus had a box of needles, like Millar. But if he looked hard enough, he thought he could tell. One day, on a whim, he followed Linus and then he knew for sure.
---
Linus
He thought perhaps it was inevitable. He'd grown used to, and even comfortable with, lying to Gerald and maybe he was careless or too confident, but there was a tiny part of him that suspected Gerald knew the truth. And the more time he spent with Gerald, which felt like all the time, the more he wondered. But still, it was easy to lie to him. Gerald never questioned him, he never asked.
It was an amazing sort of trust that Linus knew he didn't deserve. When he would tell Gerald he was running to the store or whatever, when really he was meeting another nameless doctor, he almost begged for Gerald to confront him. But it never happened. And by the time Milram came knocking, it was too late to turn back.
He'd wanted to sign and he wanted Gerald with him. He didn't know why they both said yes, or why Gerald would even come with him. And so Linus promised himself he'd quit. That this team would be different. That this time would be the last. But it never seemed to work.
---
Gerald
The day Gerald found Linus in the bathroom, shooting up with something he couldn't identify -- didn't even want to know about -- was the only time he wanted to quit cycling. Through all the drama of changing teams, all the pressure surrounding being a German cyclists, he'd never wanted to quit. But watching Linus stick the needle between his toes was almost too much.
But he didn't leave. Instead, he met Linus' gaze in the mirror. He held it, watching Linus' face change from shock to horror and then shame. And he'd wanted to say something, to slap the syringe out of Linus' hand. To hear it clatter to the floor, but he felt frozen. He knows he'll never forgive himself for just leaving the bathroom, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything.
When Linus walked back into the bedroom, Gerald didn't say anything. The moment had past, slid by them and it was too late. He'd held out his hand for Linus, the scene in the bathroom a gulf between them. But Linus took it and they had the roughest sex of Gerald's life. They never talked about it and they were left only with bruises to remind them of the truth.
Pairing: Gerald Ciolek/Linus Gerdemann
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is not real, this never happened. I don't know them and this is all fiction. Made up stuff.
Author's Notes: For the doping challenge. Beta by metafic. Thanks to amato for the encouragement.
---
Linus
He always knew he'd say yes. It didn't matter who offered, there was never going to be any question. He knew before anyone else would have even considered it. Watching Jan made him understand that he could -- would -- only win with help.
The only things he hadn't counted on were the consequences and Gerald.
---
Gerald
No one ever plans to fall in love. But even so, he saw it happening a mile away. From the first moment he saw Linus, before he'd even properly met him, he knew. There was something about him that Gerald found himself unable to resist.
He was magnetic and Gerald learned to stop fighting and just give in. By the time he admitted to himself that he was in love, it was already too late.
---
Linus
There were things Linus never talked about and when he and Gerald started fucking, he resolved to never tell anyone, ever.
At first it was impossibly hard. He hated all the sneaking around, all the lying. But the rush, the thrill that what he was doing was wrong, was far greater than any sort of guilt he felt. It was then he realized he had no problem anymore lying to Gerald .
---
Gerald
Long before Gerald first slept with Linus, he knew something wasn't quite right. He wasn't sure what it was, but he kind of knew. It wasn't like he could just ask for a sample of his urine, it was the 20th Century and not Gattaca, for fuck's sake. But he knew that sometimes Linus disappeared and it wasn't just because he wanted to belong.
Once they started fucking, Gerald started to notice other things. It wasn't like Linus had a box of needles, like Millar. But if he looked hard enough, he thought he could tell. One day, on a whim, he followed Linus and then he knew for sure.
---
Linus
He thought perhaps it was inevitable. He'd grown used to, and even comfortable with, lying to Gerald and maybe he was careless or too confident, but there was a tiny part of him that suspected Gerald knew the truth. And the more time he spent with Gerald, which felt like all the time, the more he wondered. But still, it was easy to lie to him. Gerald never questioned him, he never asked.
It was an amazing sort of trust that Linus knew he didn't deserve. When he would tell Gerald he was running to the store or whatever, when really he was meeting another nameless doctor, he almost begged for Gerald to confront him. But it never happened. And by the time Milram came knocking, it was too late to turn back.
He'd wanted to sign and he wanted Gerald with him. He didn't know why they both said yes, or why Gerald would even come with him. And so Linus promised himself he'd quit. That this team would be different. That this time would be the last. But it never seemed to work.
---
Gerald
The day Gerald found Linus in the bathroom, shooting up with something he couldn't identify -- didn't even want to know about -- was the only time he wanted to quit cycling. Through all the drama of changing teams, all the pressure surrounding being a German cyclists, he'd never wanted to quit. But watching Linus stick the needle between his toes was almost too much.
But he didn't leave. Instead, he met Linus' gaze in the mirror. He held it, watching Linus' face change from shock to horror and then shame. And he'd wanted to say something, to slap the syringe out of Linus' hand. To hear it clatter to the floor, but he felt frozen. He knows he'll never forgive himself for just leaving the bathroom, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything.
When Linus walked back into the bedroom, Gerald didn't say anything. The moment had past, slid by them and it was too late. He'd held out his hand for Linus, the scene in the bathroom a gulf between them. But Linus took it and they had the roughest sex of Gerald's life. They never talked about it and they were left only with bruises to remind them of the truth.