fanfic: Logical
Title: Logical
Author: txorakeriak
Fandom: Football RPS
Disclaimer: I do not claim to know either Lukas or Bastian, and as far as I know, this never happened.
Pairing: Lukas Podolski/Bastian Schweinsteiger
Rating: PG-13 for swearing
Summary: Poldi ponders his quite theoretical heterosexuality. Schweini is worried.
Word Count: 2,692
Author's Note: The Poldi!muse entered my head about a month ago and forced me to write fic about him. This is the result. To be honest, I hadn’t even wanted to post this because we Schweinski fans are spoilt with great Schweinski-fic, but I’m a feedback whore and I had to succumb to that eventually. *is pathetic*
This takes place in Munich, some time after Poldi signed up for the FC Bayern, but not too long since he's still staying in a hotel room.
I tried to research on that game they're playing, but I couldn't find out too much about it. Let's just say it has already been published and the characters are really chasing each other. *flails*
My eternal thanks go to: queenie_ann (who introduced me to Schweinski and whom I blame for this fic), dastier (who made me want to write football fic in the first place) and daughtermestizo for the thorough and very helpful beta! <3! (And I'm so glad this is finished!)
*****
Lukas Podolski was not gay, of course he wasn’t. One didn’t just turn gay. One didn’t wake up one morning to find out that one didn’t like women anymore. Like many more men, he was convinced that people were either born like that or they weren’t. And he definitively wasn’t.
He had enough magazines under his bed to prove it. He had kissed women. He had shagged them. He knew what he was talking about.
He didn’t feel anything when he was close to other men, when they hugged him after a goal or when he hugged them.
He didn’t find men attractive, not at all. He didn’t get a hard-on seeing them naked and he had showered with enough of them to be absolutely sure of that.
Damn it, he couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to fuck a man or - even worse - let a man fuck him. And that’s what it usually led to, wasn’t it? Sex. It grossed him out to think of it. It couldn’t be fun. It couldn’t be for him.
The bad thing was that while his reasoning seemed quite logical and convincing to him, it excluded one person; Bastian Schweinsteiger, best friend and now team mate.
What was so special about Bastian that he could mess up Lukas’ reasoning so completely? What was so extraordinary about him that Lukas had suddenly begun to question his sexuality, something he had been sure of for years?
Lukas couldn’t deny his attraction to him. It wasn’t just about being close to him, being friendly, joking, laughing. It used to be like that. It used to be easy, being around Bastian, being his friend.
It wasn’t that easy anymore. Now, it was all about that bloody urge to touch him, about the way his skin reacted when Bastian touched him. His mere existence set Lukas on fire, and he couldn’t explain why.
Either, he defied logic in general, or he was no man at all. But Lukas wouldn’t kid himself. He had seen Bastian naked more than once, and there was one considerable thing between his legs that he had in common with all men, so he had to be a man as well.
It sounded so simple, but it felt anything but that.
He couldn’t even stay away from Bastian to protect himself. Bastian would ask questions.
What’s wrong with you?
Why are you acting so weird?
Have I done something wrong?
Don’t you like me anymore?
He could hear those questions in his head and the last thing Lukas wanted was to answer them.
***
His mobile rang, pulling him out of his thoughts. Speak of the devil…
"Hi, Basti. What’s up? … No, I’m free today, I- Yeah, sure. An hour. See you!"
He exhaled. So it would be another afternoon with Bastian, another afternoon of being close to him and trying not to let anything show. He would never have expected to be scared of playing video games with his best friend, ever. Now he was. The thought alone made him sweat. Bloody hell.
He showered, grabbed some new clothes from his bag, put them on, checked his looks and then left the hotel room.
Bastian was already waiting for him at the door of his flat. "Hi, mate!" He smiled, dragging him inside.
They exchanged a quick hug and Lukas bit his lip. Relax, damn it. No need to freak out.
"What’s up?"
"Oh, nothing much. Where’s that new game of yours?"
"Playstation. Bedroom. Look, why don’t you go there already and check it out, eh? I’ll get some drinks."
Lukas nodded slowly and looked around. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know the way. He knew this bloody flat as if it were his own. Why was it that everything seemed so new, so unfamiliar?
Sighing, he went into Bastian’s bedroom. Even this room looked as always, with clothes lying around everywhere, in between empty plastic bottles and sports magazines. The bed was made, but probably just because they had to sit on it to play.
He had just let himself drop on the bed when Bastian came in. He put two glasses of coke on the bedside table and jumped on the bed, missing his friend by mere inches.
"So, what do you say?" he asked, flashing him that brilliant smile. "It’s great, hm?"
Lukas hadn’t even found the time to look at the TV screen. "Yeah," he said weakly, "it’s great." His eyes helplessly scanned the room for the game box.
Ah. StarCraft Ghost. He had heard of that.
Well, it couldn’t be too difficult to play it, could it?
He grabbed a game pad from the floor and gave his friend a questioning look.
Bastian picked up the other game pad. "Deathmatch?"
"Sure."
They played for a while, running through a maze of hangars, chasing each other’s character with their weapons drawn. Shots flew through the air, items were collected, but Lukas couldn’t concentrate.
Bastian was too damn close. Their thighs were touching. Occasionally, Bastian nudged him, pressing his shoulder against Lukas’, heat radiating from his body. That smile. It was too fucking hot in that room.
Lukas knew exactly what he wanted to do right now, rather than playing. He didn’t know why he wanted it, but there was this desperate urge inside him to just throw himself on Bastian, lie on top of him, press himself against him and then… Yes, what then? He bloody well couldn't kiss him, or do anything else with similar intentions. It would mean ending their friendship--
Well, maybe it wouldn't exactly end - there was a long way from a kiss to being a couple, even in the straight life - but once a step was made, things would change. It wouldn't be the same after that. And Lukas simply couldn’t see them as some gay couple. Bastian had a girlfriend - and Lukas wasn’t gay, for fuck’s sake!
His eyes fixed on the TV screen, he pressed a few buttons on the game pad. His character screamed and the screen went red. YOU LOSE, it flashed at him in thick black letters.
You don’t even know how right you are, you fuck.
He wasn’t supposed to lose - he had always been a winner. His team had lost sometimes, but never him. He had been a child of luck. Why did his luck have to run out now?
Why had he managed to endure Bastian’s closeness before and why couldn’t he do so at the moment? Nothing had changed, had it?
"You’re not even trying," complained Bastian. "What’s the matter with you?"
"Nothing."
"Hardly ‘nothing’. Anything bothering you?"
Oh yes, Lukas would have loved to say. You. But he didn’t.
"Come on! You can tell me!" Bastian’s hand touched Lukas’ shoulder.
"Look, I’m not some bloody chick, right?" he shouted, angry at himself and his desperation. "When I say it’s nothing, it is nothing. Now leave me alone, will you?"
The moment the words were out, he was sorry for them. He hadn’t meant to say them, hadn’t meant to hurt Bastian. All his friend had done was try to cheer him up. It was his own fault and no one else’s. God, how he hated himself right now.
"Sorry," he hurried to say, but he couldn’t look at Bastian. He dropped the game pad on the bed, got up and went out, picking up his coat. "I'd better go."
Bastian stopped him at the door, his hand firmly on Lukas’ shoulder. "Wait. I-I’m sorry! If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s all right. I don’t want to annoy you." He was completely serious - a rare thing. "We could talk about something else," he suggested eagerly. "Or play something else. I just-I just want you to stay. Please."
Reluctantly, Lukas dropped his coat again. Eventually, he nodded. He didn’t say anything. He just went back to Bastian’s room, wondering what would happen now. He was loaded. He could explode any minute. Really explode. Not just some little outburst.
Bastian followed him and sat on the bed, looking at Lukas, who slowly approached and sat down beside him, but with a greater distance than before. He looked at the floor.
After a while, Bastian spoke. "Look, whatever it is, I want to make it better. Tell me what you want to do. You can’t go on moping about like that forever."
"You’re only making it worse," Lukas said before he even realized he had said it. He had meant to think it, not say it.
"I’m sorry," he heard Bastian say quietly. "I just-I thought you trusted me." And then, devastated, "I thought we were friends."
Lukas turned his head, alarmed. Bastian wasn’t looking at him.
That was it, wasn’t it? They were friends. And he was just about to destroy everything. Why couldn’t he just pretend that there wasn’t anything wrong with him? Why did he have to be so bloody obvious all the time?
"Basti…"
"Hm?"
"I can’t tell you! You’ll hate me! I don’t want that!"
"Why? You can tell me anything."
"Not that."
"Why?" Bastian asked again, stubbornly. "What have you done?"
Yeah, that’s exactly it. What have I done?
Lukas sighed. "I haven’t really done anything. It just… happened. I-" He quickly stopped himself from talking. "Let’s do something." He looked around, trying to get an idea into his head. "Why don’t we continue playing that game there?"
"Because you’re not paying attention. You don’t care." Bastian didn’t sound too happy anymore. "What do you actually care about these days?"
"You. I mean-" Oh, fuck. His mouth had always been quicker than his head.
Bastian stared at him. "What?"
Lukas didn’t answer. He couldn’t alter what he had just said, make it sound less suspicious. He lacked the talent to play something down with words.
"Ah, nothing." He shrugged. "No worries. I’m okay now."
Bastian eyed him suspiciously, but he kept silent.
"I’m serious."
"I can see that," Bastian snapped. "Too bloody serious, if you ask me."
"Well, I’m sorry," Lukas snapped back, glaring. "Not everyone’s as perfect as you are!"
Bastian was staring again. "What?"
"It’s not my fault, okay?" he shouted at Bastian. "I didn’t do anything. It’s you, damn it! You fucked with my mind! It’s making me sick, you know?" He didn’t even realize that he was shouting again. "And you’re sitting there, all cool. Of course, it doesn’t affect you! Fuck!"
"What?" Bastian repeated, still staring. "Shit, Lukas, what are you talking about?"
Lukas broke flopped down on the bed, his face pressed into Bastian’s pillows - a bad idea, because more quickly than he wanted, that wonderful smell filled his nose, the smell that he had inhaled so often when hugging his friend after a game, after a goal. Bastian was sitting there right next to him - the whole room already smelled of him - that a single pillow couldn’t matter, could it?
He could tear that pillow into little pieces right now.
Sighing, Lukas got looked up. "I don’t want anything to change," he said quietly. "Just pretend this didn’t happen."
Bastian shook his head. "It’s still happening. And if it has something to do with me, I have a right to know what it is."
Lukas hesitated.
"Do you have a problem with me? Let’s sort it out!"
"That’s not possible."
"Why not?"
"Because you’ll hate me. You’ll stop talking to me."
"I could never do that!"
"I’ll prove you wrong."
Before Bastian could move, Lukas had grabbed him by his shoulders and thrown him on the bed, trapping him with his own body. Bastian struggled, but Lukas wouldn’t let him win. He would risk everything - but in the end, he would prove his point.
Without hesitating, he pressed his lips to Bastian’s roughly, almost biting him.
Bastian stiffened for a second, but then it was already over. Lukas pulled away, sitting on the far side of the bed, giving Bastian a look. See? Told you.
"I’ll go now," he said eventually and got up from the bed.
And that was supposed to have been worth it. Their beautiful friendship destroyed because of this, this quick kiss. Oh, he had wanted it terribly, but not at such a cost. Hell, he couldn’t even remember what Bastian had tasted like, and the chance wouldn’t come again.
He had almost reached the door when strong arms pulled him back. When he turned around, Bastian just looked at him. "Did you mean that?"
"Mean what?"
"What you… just did. Did you mean that?"
Lukas nodded. "I’m sorry, I-"
Bastian suddenly burst out in laughter, that bright and honest laughter that Lukas had always liked so much - only now, it hurt to be laughed at, to feel so ridiculous. He had to look miserable. He felt miserable. Why couldn’t he just leave?
Eventually, Bastian pulled him out of his thoughts, grabbed him by the waist, dragged him to the bed and sat atop of him, giggling like a madman. "Damn it, Poldi!" he exclaimed, hugging his friend tightly.
Lukas stiffened, dumbfounded. What the hell?
"You really had me worried here!" Bastian complained, still giggling as he pulled back again.
"What?" It was all Lukas could say. Bastian’s laughter made no sense to him. "Listen, you don’t understand. I-"
"I do," Bastian said, smiling. "I get it now."
He shifted a bit until he was lying half beside and half atop of Lukas, resting his upper body on his elbow, one leg draped over Lukas' leg. He was so close, so temptingly close, and the heat radiated from him as if he were a generator.
Lukas almost couldn't breathe, let alone think. "You…" He blushed.
So he… understands? And he doesn’t mind? Why doesn’t he mind? And does he really have to lie there like that?
Lukas bit his lip, trying to make himself stop thinking.
"You know, I’m surprised! I thought I was obvious. I really worried about it." Bastian laughed again, and not just his mouth - his eyes were laughing, too. "That’s too funny."
"Funny?" Lukas frowned. He wasn’t feeling too bad anymore, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to smile, either.
"Yeah." Bastian grinned at him. "I think it’s funny."
"So… you don’t mind? At all?"
"Why should I?" Bastian shrugged. "I don’t want to say I planned all that, but as long as we agree on it, I don’t see why any of us should mind."
It was an understatement to say that Lukas was surprised. Bavarians were said to be conservative. Well, damn sure not Bastian. Or was it really that simple? Accepting what you couldn’t change? You have to accept losing a game - why not accept this as well?
And you don’t have the whole world to see you lose. That was an advantage.
"Just like that?" Lukas' hand twitched, eager to touch Bastian - at least his arm, or his side - but Lukas fought it. He still didn't dare to make a move.
"Just like that. I don’t see what else we can do. However…" He paused, flashing Lukas a quite devilish grin. "You weren’t really doing it right, you know? Don’t you have any experience?"
Bastian’s voice teased Lukas - he couldn’t help smiling. "Bastard."
When Bastian moved closer to kiss him, Lukas immediately shut his eyes. He had just been given another chance and he wouldn’t waste it. This time, he’d pay attention.
The kiss was a bit awkward and wet at first, both trying to take the lead, to get the upper hand, but eventually, they found a slow rhythm, tasting each other, exploring the newfound terrain.
Lukas finally put his arm around Bastian's waist and pulled him closer still while the midfielder's hand slowly stroked over his hair.
It felt wonderful; intimate, and yet new. It felt unexpectedly right..
And while it still lasted, Lukas realized that it wasn’t Bastian who defied logic.
It was the two of them together.
Author: txorakeriak
Fandom: Football RPS
Disclaimer: I do not claim to know either Lukas or Bastian, and as far as I know, this never happened.
Pairing: Lukas Podolski/Bastian Schweinsteiger
Rating: PG-13 for swearing
Summary: Poldi ponders his quite theoretical heterosexuality. Schweini is worried.
Word Count: 2,692
Author's Note: The Poldi!muse entered my head about a month ago and forced me to write fic about him. This is the result. To be honest, I hadn’t even wanted to post this because we Schweinski fans are spoilt with great Schweinski-fic, but I’m a feedback whore and I had to succumb to that eventually. *is pathetic*
This takes place in Munich, some time after Poldi signed up for the FC Bayern, but not too long since he's still staying in a hotel room.
I tried to research on that game they're playing, but I couldn't find out too much about it. Let's just say it has already been published and the characters are really chasing each other. *flails*
My eternal thanks go to: queenie_ann (who introduced me to Schweinski and whom I blame for this fic), dastier (who made me want to write football fic in the first place) and daughtermestizo for the thorough and very helpful beta! <3! (And I'm so glad this is finished!)
*****
Lukas Podolski was not gay, of course he wasn’t. One didn’t just turn gay. One didn’t wake up one morning to find out that one didn’t like women anymore. Like many more men, he was convinced that people were either born like that or they weren’t. And he definitively wasn’t.
He had enough magazines under his bed to prove it. He had kissed women. He had shagged them. He knew what he was talking about.
He didn’t feel anything when he was close to other men, when they hugged him after a goal or when he hugged them.
He didn’t find men attractive, not at all. He didn’t get a hard-on seeing them naked and he had showered with enough of them to be absolutely sure of that.
Damn it, he couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to fuck a man or - even worse - let a man fuck him. And that’s what it usually led to, wasn’t it? Sex. It grossed him out to think of it. It couldn’t be fun. It couldn’t be for him.
The bad thing was that while his reasoning seemed quite logical and convincing to him, it excluded one person; Bastian Schweinsteiger, best friend and now team mate.
What was so special about Bastian that he could mess up Lukas’ reasoning so completely? What was so extraordinary about him that Lukas had suddenly begun to question his sexuality, something he had been sure of for years?
Lukas couldn’t deny his attraction to him. It wasn’t just about being close to him, being friendly, joking, laughing. It used to be like that. It used to be easy, being around Bastian, being his friend.
It wasn’t that easy anymore. Now, it was all about that bloody urge to touch him, about the way his skin reacted when Bastian touched him. His mere existence set Lukas on fire, and he couldn’t explain why.
Either, he defied logic in general, or he was no man at all. But Lukas wouldn’t kid himself. He had seen Bastian naked more than once, and there was one considerable thing between his legs that he had in common with all men, so he had to be a man as well.
It sounded so simple, but it felt anything but that.
He couldn’t even stay away from Bastian to protect himself. Bastian would ask questions.
What’s wrong with you?
Why are you acting so weird?
Have I done something wrong?
Don’t you like me anymore?
He could hear those questions in his head and the last thing Lukas wanted was to answer them.
***
His mobile rang, pulling him out of his thoughts. Speak of the devil…
"Hi, Basti. What’s up? … No, I’m free today, I- Yeah, sure. An hour. See you!"
He exhaled. So it would be another afternoon with Bastian, another afternoon of being close to him and trying not to let anything show. He would never have expected to be scared of playing video games with his best friend, ever. Now he was. The thought alone made him sweat. Bloody hell.
He showered, grabbed some new clothes from his bag, put them on, checked his looks and then left the hotel room.
Bastian was already waiting for him at the door of his flat. "Hi, mate!" He smiled, dragging him inside.
They exchanged a quick hug and Lukas bit his lip. Relax, damn it. No need to freak out.
"What’s up?"
"Oh, nothing much. Where’s that new game of yours?"
"Playstation. Bedroom. Look, why don’t you go there already and check it out, eh? I’ll get some drinks."
Lukas nodded slowly and looked around. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know the way. He knew this bloody flat as if it were his own. Why was it that everything seemed so new, so unfamiliar?
Sighing, he went into Bastian’s bedroom. Even this room looked as always, with clothes lying around everywhere, in between empty plastic bottles and sports magazines. The bed was made, but probably just because they had to sit on it to play.
He had just let himself drop on the bed when Bastian came in. He put two glasses of coke on the bedside table and jumped on the bed, missing his friend by mere inches.
"So, what do you say?" he asked, flashing him that brilliant smile. "It’s great, hm?"
Lukas hadn’t even found the time to look at the TV screen. "Yeah," he said weakly, "it’s great." His eyes helplessly scanned the room for the game box.
Ah. StarCraft Ghost. He had heard of that.
Well, it couldn’t be too difficult to play it, could it?
He grabbed a game pad from the floor and gave his friend a questioning look.
Bastian picked up the other game pad. "Deathmatch?"
"Sure."
They played for a while, running through a maze of hangars, chasing each other’s character with their weapons drawn. Shots flew through the air, items were collected, but Lukas couldn’t concentrate.
Bastian was too damn close. Their thighs were touching. Occasionally, Bastian nudged him, pressing his shoulder against Lukas’, heat radiating from his body. That smile. It was too fucking hot in that room.
Lukas knew exactly what he wanted to do right now, rather than playing. He didn’t know why he wanted it, but there was this desperate urge inside him to just throw himself on Bastian, lie on top of him, press himself against him and then… Yes, what then? He bloody well couldn't kiss him, or do anything else with similar intentions. It would mean ending their friendship--
Well, maybe it wouldn't exactly end - there was a long way from a kiss to being a couple, even in the straight life - but once a step was made, things would change. It wouldn't be the same after that. And Lukas simply couldn’t see them as some gay couple. Bastian had a girlfriend - and Lukas wasn’t gay, for fuck’s sake!
His eyes fixed on the TV screen, he pressed a few buttons on the game pad. His character screamed and the screen went red. YOU LOSE, it flashed at him in thick black letters.
You don’t even know how right you are, you fuck.
He wasn’t supposed to lose - he had always been a winner. His team had lost sometimes, but never him. He had been a child of luck. Why did his luck have to run out now?
Why had he managed to endure Bastian’s closeness before and why couldn’t he do so at the moment? Nothing had changed, had it?
"You’re not even trying," complained Bastian. "What’s the matter with you?"
"Nothing."
"Hardly ‘nothing’. Anything bothering you?"
Oh yes, Lukas would have loved to say. You. But he didn’t.
"Come on! You can tell me!" Bastian’s hand touched Lukas’ shoulder.
"Look, I’m not some bloody chick, right?" he shouted, angry at himself and his desperation. "When I say it’s nothing, it is nothing. Now leave me alone, will you?"
The moment the words were out, he was sorry for them. He hadn’t meant to say them, hadn’t meant to hurt Bastian. All his friend had done was try to cheer him up. It was his own fault and no one else’s. God, how he hated himself right now.
"Sorry," he hurried to say, but he couldn’t look at Bastian. He dropped the game pad on the bed, got up and went out, picking up his coat. "I'd better go."
Bastian stopped him at the door, his hand firmly on Lukas’ shoulder. "Wait. I-I’m sorry! If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s all right. I don’t want to annoy you." He was completely serious - a rare thing. "We could talk about something else," he suggested eagerly. "Or play something else. I just-I just want you to stay. Please."
Reluctantly, Lukas dropped his coat again. Eventually, he nodded. He didn’t say anything. He just went back to Bastian’s room, wondering what would happen now. He was loaded. He could explode any minute. Really explode. Not just some little outburst.
Bastian followed him and sat on the bed, looking at Lukas, who slowly approached and sat down beside him, but with a greater distance than before. He looked at the floor.
After a while, Bastian spoke. "Look, whatever it is, I want to make it better. Tell me what you want to do. You can’t go on moping about like that forever."
"You’re only making it worse," Lukas said before he even realized he had said it. He had meant to think it, not say it.
"I’m sorry," he heard Bastian say quietly. "I just-I thought you trusted me." And then, devastated, "I thought we were friends."
Lukas turned his head, alarmed. Bastian wasn’t looking at him.
That was it, wasn’t it? They were friends. And he was just about to destroy everything. Why couldn’t he just pretend that there wasn’t anything wrong with him? Why did he have to be so bloody obvious all the time?
"Basti…"
"Hm?"
"I can’t tell you! You’ll hate me! I don’t want that!"
"Why? You can tell me anything."
"Not that."
"Why?" Bastian asked again, stubbornly. "What have you done?"
Yeah, that’s exactly it. What have I done?
Lukas sighed. "I haven’t really done anything. It just… happened. I-" He quickly stopped himself from talking. "Let’s do something." He looked around, trying to get an idea into his head. "Why don’t we continue playing that game there?"
"Because you’re not paying attention. You don’t care." Bastian didn’t sound too happy anymore. "What do you actually care about these days?"
"You. I mean-" Oh, fuck. His mouth had always been quicker than his head.
Bastian stared at him. "What?"
Lukas didn’t answer. He couldn’t alter what he had just said, make it sound less suspicious. He lacked the talent to play something down with words.
"Ah, nothing." He shrugged. "No worries. I’m okay now."
Bastian eyed him suspiciously, but he kept silent.
"I’m serious."
"I can see that," Bastian snapped. "Too bloody serious, if you ask me."
"Well, I’m sorry," Lukas snapped back, glaring. "Not everyone’s as perfect as you are!"
Bastian was staring again. "What?"
"It’s not my fault, okay?" he shouted at Bastian. "I didn’t do anything. It’s you, damn it! You fucked with my mind! It’s making me sick, you know?" He didn’t even realize that he was shouting again. "And you’re sitting there, all cool. Of course, it doesn’t affect you! Fuck!"
"What?" Bastian repeated, still staring. "Shit, Lukas, what are you talking about?"
Lukas broke flopped down on the bed, his face pressed into Bastian’s pillows - a bad idea, because more quickly than he wanted, that wonderful smell filled his nose, the smell that he had inhaled so often when hugging his friend after a game, after a goal. Bastian was sitting there right next to him - the whole room already smelled of him - that a single pillow couldn’t matter, could it?
He could tear that pillow into little pieces right now.
Sighing, Lukas got looked up. "I don’t want anything to change," he said quietly. "Just pretend this didn’t happen."
Bastian shook his head. "It’s still happening. And if it has something to do with me, I have a right to know what it is."
Lukas hesitated.
"Do you have a problem with me? Let’s sort it out!"
"That’s not possible."
"Why not?"
"Because you’ll hate me. You’ll stop talking to me."
"I could never do that!"
"I’ll prove you wrong."
Before Bastian could move, Lukas had grabbed him by his shoulders and thrown him on the bed, trapping him with his own body. Bastian struggled, but Lukas wouldn’t let him win. He would risk everything - but in the end, he would prove his point.
Without hesitating, he pressed his lips to Bastian’s roughly, almost biting him.
Bastian stiffened for a second, but then it was already over. Lukas pulled away, sitting on the far side of the bed, giving Bastian a look. See? Told you.
"I’ll go now," he said eventually and got up from the bed.
And that was supposed to have been worth it. Their beautiful friendship destroyed because of this, this quick kiss. Oh, he had wanted it terribly, but not at such a cost. Hell, he couldn’t even remember what Bastian had tasted like, and the chance wouldn’t come again.
He had almost reached the door when strong arms pulled him back. When he turned around, Bastian just looked at him. "Did you mean that?"
"Mean what?"
"What you… just did. Did you mean that?"
Lukas nodded. "I’m sorry, I-"
Bastian suddenly burst out in laughter, that bright and honest laughter that Lukas had always liked so much - only now, it hurt to be laughed at, to feel so ridiculous. He had to look miserable. He felt miserable. Why couldn’t he just leave?
Eventually, Bastian pulled him out of his thoughts, grabbed him by the waist, dragged him to the bed and sat atop of him, giggling like a madman. "Damn it, Poldi!" he exclaimed, hugging his friend tightly.
Lukas stiffened, dumbfounded. What the hell?
"You really had me worried here!" Bastian complained, still giggling as he pulled back again.
"What?" It was all Lukas could say. Bastian’s laughter made no sense to him. "Listen, you don’t understand. I-"
"I do," Bastian said, smiling. "I get it now."
He shifted a bit until he was lying half beside and half atop of Lukas, resting his upper body on his elbow, one leg draped over Lukas' leg. He was so close, so temptingly close, and the heat radiated from him as if he were a generator.
Lukas almost couldn't breathe, let alone think. "You…" He blushed.
So he… understands? And he doesn’t mind? Why doesn’t he mind? And does he really have to lie there like that?
Lukas bit his lip, trying to make himself stop thinking.
"You know, I’m surprised! I thought I was obvious. I really worried about it." Bastian laughed again, and not just his mouth - his eyes were laughing, too. "That’s too funny."
"Funny?" Lukas frowned. He wasn’t feeling too bad anymore, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to smile, either.
"Yeah." Bastian grinned at him. "I think it’s funny."
"So… you don’t mind? At all?"
"Why should I?" Bastian shrugged. "I don’t want to say I planned all that, but as long as we agree on it, I don’t see why any of us should mind."
It was an understatement to say that Lukas was surprised. Bavarians were said to be conservative. Well, damn sure not Bastian. Or was it really that simple? Accepting what you couldn’t change? You have to accept losing a game - why not accept this as well?
And you don’t have the whole world to see you lose. That was an advantage.
"Just like that?" Lukas' hand twitched, eager to touch Bastian - at least his arm, or his side - but Lukas fought it. He still didn't dare to make a move.
"Just like that. I don’t see what else we can do. However…" He paused, flashing Lukas a quite devilish grin. "You weren’t really doing it right, you know? Don’t you have any experience?"
Bastian’s voice teased Lukas - he couldn’t help smiling. "Bastard."
When Bastian moved closer to kiss him, Lukas immediately shut his eyes. He had just been given another chance and he wouldn’t waste it. This time, he’d pay attention.
The kiss was a bit awkward and wet at first, both trying to take the lead, to get the upper hand, but eventually, they found a slow rhythm, tasting each other, exploring the newfound terrain.
Lukas finally put his arm around Bastian's waist and pulled him closer still while the midfielder's hand slowly stroked over his hair.
It felt wonderful; intimate, and yet new. It felt unexpectedly right..
And while it still lasted, Lukas realized that it wasn’t Bastian who defied logic.
It was the two of them together.