Omloop Het Nieuwsblad
Title: Omloop Het Nieuwsblad
Pairing: Sylvain Chavanel/Heinrich Haussler
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This is not real, this never happened. I don't know them and this is all fiction. Made up stuff.
Author's Notes: Follows Volta ao Algarve. Beta by metafic
---
Before he's even really had a chance to miss Heinrich, they're in the same place, racing against each other. Only, Sylvain thinks, that's not exactly true. Mostly they're both in Belgium racing for other people. In a way, it annoys Sylvain because he thinks they'd make good competitors. But at the same time, he'd rather be racing in support of Heinrich than anyone else.
The night before the race, he tries unsuccessfully to slip away from the team, but he's foiled at every turn. Eventually he manages a text, four simple words.
Sorry. Team. Tomorrow night?
He's all but given up hope for a reply when his phone buzzes on the nightstand. One word.
Yes.
He breathes a sigh of relief, realizing maybe for the first time that he wants to keep seeing Heinrich. He wants whatever they have because it's not demanding. Heinrich doesn't care if Sylvain fucks up the team tactics. He has no expectations for Sylvain on the bike. No relationship-ending urge to sabotage or aid in Sylvain's attempts to win. No pressure to be perfect. But mostly he wants to see Heinrich because he likes him.
---
By the time the race is over, the weather is colder and cloudy. Sylvain spends too much time in the shower in the hotel and by the time he emerges, there's a note from Wouter, explaining he's gone off with his girlfriend and will see him later. He texts Heinrich with the room number and wonders if Heinrich will even show up.
There's a part of Sylvain that worries that Heinrich's been fucking with him. That this is all a big joke. Sometimes the fact that they can barely communicate drives Sylvain a bit mad. He knows enough English to get by during a race, but not nearly enough to hold meaningful conversations. He thinks about his shit German and then there's a knock at the door.
He crosses the room slowly and then pulls open the door. He's not completely surprised to see Heinrich, more like pleased. It makes him blush a little and he steps out of the way to let Heinrich into the room.
They don't talk. Of course they don't, Sylvain thinks, mildly annoyed. He watches as Heinrich sits on the edge of the bed. There are questions neither of them can ask. Answers they can't share and Sylvain pushes it all out of his mind. What he wants is Heinrich. He locks the door and crosses over to him. Heinrich holds out his hand and Sylvain takes it. Pulls Heinrich up, to him and kisses him.
He slides a hand up, twisting his fingers in Heinrich's hair as he kisses him hard. He feels Heinrich open his mouth wider, deepening the kiss. He loses himself in it, forgetting about the results, about how it was Heinrich's team leader who won the race and not his own. Not that Sylvain even cares about Tom. The kiss distracts him again, the way Heinrich's hands slide down Sylvain's sides, pushing under his shirt.
Sylvain takes a step forward, then another, nudging Heinrich toward the bed. Heinrich sits, pulling Sylvain down, onto his lap. They kiss again, bodies pressed together and Sylvain is surprise by how intense it all is. By how much he wants Heinrich. He deepens the kiss this time, fingers curling together in Heinrich's hair.
He doesn't know how they end up completely on the bed. He doesn't understand how they fit so well together. He lies, flush against Heinrich, kissing him harder, pressing their bodies together. They move and it's echoes of Portugal, sex without quite making it there. Heinrich takes off his own shirt, then Sylvain's. They separate enough to fumble with each other's pants and Sylvain feels like high school. Like the first time he had sex with his wife.
But then Heinrich touches him through the soft cotton. Sliding his fingers along the waistband of Sylvain's underwear, then curling them slightly. He catches Sylvain's gaze and if Sylvain wasn't in love with Heinrich before, he is now. He nods, giving Heinrich permission for everything, for anything.
Heinrich pushes Sylvain's underwear off and for a moment Sylvain thinks he's going to freak out and leave, but he doesn't. He lets Heinrich touch him, run his fingers along his cock and it's the most amazing thing in the world. He shifts, with Heinrich's hand still on him, he moves enough so that he can take Heinrich's underwear off as well. He runs his hand along Heinrich's thighs, against the lines left from cycling shorts and tans. Then he curls his fingers around Heinrich's cock, stroking gently.
They slip into a routine, stroking, kissing and Sylvain knows this is how they'll end the night. He know Heinrich won't go back to his own room. He knows Wouter won't come back to their room and Sylvain knows he'll get what he wants. He leans in again, kissing Heinrich hard. He thrusts against Heinrich's hand and he's close. Shuddering against him and he feels Heinrich, hard and close in his hand.
Sylvain doesn't know who comes first, but thinks it doesn't matter. He comes fast and hard, Heinrich the same and they lay there, warm and sticky on the bed. Heinrich pulls away, sliding off the bed and for a moment, Sylvain expects him to dress and leave, but he doesn't. He holds out his hand and again Sylvain takes it. He lets Heinrich lead him to the showers. Maybe this'll be their routine, but Sylvain doesn't care.
Showering, then bed. It's something he's used to, but now he doesn't do it alone. Before he falls asleep, he leans in, kissing Heinrich gently. He feels Heinrich's fingers against the back of his neck as he returns the kiss. Then he shifts again, curling up next to Heinrich. He hopes this continues, he longs for this to keep on, but if this is the end, he's thankful he's had this much. He closes his eyes, listens to Heinrich's breathing even out and then he sleeps.
Pairing: Sylvain Chavanel/Heinrich Haussler
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This is not real, this never happened. I don't know them and this is all fiction. Made up stuff.
Author's Notes: Follows Volta ao Algarve. Beta by metafic
---
Before he's even really had a chance to miss Heinrich, they're in the same place, racing against each other. Only, Sylvain thinks, that's not exactly true. Mostly they're both in Belgium racing for other people. In a way, it annoys Sylvain because he thinks they'd make good competitors. But at the same time, he'd rather be racing in support of Heinrich than anyone else.
The night before the race, he tries unsuccessfully to slip away from the team, but he's foiled at every turn. Eventually he manages a text, four simple words.
Sorry. Team. Tomorrow night?
He's all but given up hope for a reply when his phone buzzes on the nightstand. One word.
Yes.
He breathes a sigh of relief, realizing maybe for the first time that he wants to keep seeing Heinrich. He wants whatever they have because it's not demanding. Heinrich doesn't care if Sylvain fucks up the team tactics. He has no expectations for Sylvain on the bike. No relationship-ending urge to sabotage or aid in Sylvain's attempts to win. No pressure to be perfect. But mostly he wants to see Heinrich because he likes him.
---
By the time the race is over, the weather is colder and cloudy. Sylvain spends too much time in the shower in the hotel and by the time he emerges, there's a note from Wouter, explaining he's gone off with his girlfriend and will see him later. He texts Heinrich with the room number and wonders if Heinrich will even show up.
There's a part of Sylvain that worries that Heinrich's been fucking with him. That this is all a big joke. Sometimes the fact that they can barely communicate drives Sylvain a bit mad. He knows enough English to get by during a race, but not nearly enough to hold meaningful conversations. He thinks about his shit German and then there's a knock at the door.
He crosses the room slowly and then pulls open the door. He's not completely surprised to see Heinrich, more like pleased. It makes him blush a little and he steps out of the way to let Heinrich into the room.
They don't talk. Of course they don't, Sylvain thinks, mildly annoyed. He watches as Heinrich sits on the edge of the bed. There are questions neither of them can ask. Answers they can't share and Sylvain pushes it all out of his mind. What he wants is Heinrich. He locks the door and crosses over to him. Heinrich holds out his hand and Sylvain takes it. Pulls Heinrich up, to him and kisses him.
He slides a hand up, twisting his fingers in Heinrich's hair as he kisses him hard. He feels Heinrich open his mouth wider, deepening the kiss. He loses himself in it, forgetting about the results, about how it was Heinrich's team leader who won the race and not his own. Not that Sylvain even cares about Tom. The kiss distracts him again, the way Heinrich's hands slide down Sylvain's sides, pushing under his shirt.
Sylvain takes a step forward, then another, nudging Heinrich toward the bed. Heinrich sits, pulling Sylvain down, onto his lap. They kiss again, bodies pressed together and Sylvain is surprise by how intense it all is. By how much he wants Heinrich. He deepens the kiss this time, fingers curling together in Heinrich's hair.
He doesn't know how they end up completely on the bed. He doesn't understand how they fit so well together. He lies, flush against Heinrich, kissing him harder, pressing their bodies together. They move and it's echoes of Portugal, sex without quite making it there. Heinrich takes off his own shirt, then Sylvain's. They separate enough to fumble with each other's pants and Sylvain feels like high school. Like the first time he had sex with his wife.
But then Heinrich touches him through the soft cotton. Sliding his fingers along the waistband of Sylvain's underwear, then curling them slightly. He catches Sylvain's gaze and if Sylvain wasn't in love with Heinrich before, he is now. He nods, giving Heinrich permission for everything, for anything.
Heinrich pushes Sylvain's underwear off and for a moment Sylvain thinks he's going to freak out and leave, but he doesn't. He lets Heinrich touch him, run his fingers along his cock and it's the most amazing thing in the world. He shifts, with Heinrich's hand still on him, he moves enough so that he can take Heinrich's underwear off as well. He runs his hand along Heinrich's thighs, against the lines left from cycling shorts and tans. Then he curls his fingers around Heinrich's cock, stroking gently.
They slip into a routine, stroking, kissing and Sylvain knows this is how they'll end the night. He know Heinrich won't go back to his own room. He knows Wouter won't come back to their room and Sylvain knows he'll get what he wants. He leans in again, kissing Heinrich hard. He thrusts against Heinrich's hand and he's close. Shuddering against him and he feels Heinrich, hard and close in his hand.
Sylvain doesn't know who comes first, but thinks it doesn't matter. He comes fast and hard, Heinrich the same and they lay there, warm and sticky on the bed. Heinrich pulls away, sliding off the bed and for a moment, Sylvain expects him to dress and leave, but he doesn't. He holds out his hand and again Sylvain takes it. He lets Heinrich lead him to the showers. Maybe this'll be their routine, but Sylvain doesn't care.
Showering, then bed. It's something he's used to, but now he doesn't do it alone. Before he falls asleep, he leans in, kissing Heinrich gently. He feels Heinrich's fingers against the back of his neck as he returns the kiss. Then he shifts again, curling up next to Heinrich. He hopes this continues, he longs for this to keep on, but if this is the end, he's thankful he's had this much. He closes his eyes, listens to Heinrich's breathing even out and then he sleeps.