It was not the first night they had spent together, nor was it the first morning Hansi had woken up wrapped in Jogi’s arms but this was the first morning they had woken up in their bed, in their house.
Picturing this, Hansi had envisioned creeping out of bed early and making Jogi a romantic breakfast in bed. As tempting as this sounded Hansi knew better for as easily as he could picture this, he could picture what he knew would follow; Jogi trying and failing not to freak out at the crumbs. Not even at the actual crumbs, just at the possibility that some lone crumb may escape his watchful gaze. A nice thought it was but one that would be more of a torment for Jogi than a gift. Hansi would have to settle for making him breakfast upon his return from his morning run. Hansi had no complaints, how could he when the second best was just as good as the first.
Watching Jogi wake up and get out of bed, Hansi cast his thoughts back to that first morning they had spent the night together, the morning after the Argentina friendly. Except on this occasion there was no awkwardness, no wondering what to do, Hansi could lay back peacefully and watch Jogi get dressed. As he did so Hansi thought of how awkward it had been, the two of them waking up and neither of them knowing precisely what to say. All such feelings had been vanquished however when Jogi returned from the shower, his hair looking simply irresistible much like the rest of him. Walking in the door Jogi had observed the look on Hansi’s face and instead of drying himself off and getting dressed, he walked over to Hansi and allowed him to take over. Once he was finished, Hansi threw the towel aside, took Jogi’s hand and returned him to his rightful place beneath the covers. If it hadn’t have been for the usual round of meetings that followed a match day, that was where the two of them would have spent the rest of the morning.
Throughout said meetings, they could not help but exchange glances. When Hansi looked at him with the same trace of mischievousness in his eyes as when he had pulled him back into bed, it took everything Jogi had to keep a straight face and to focus on what was being said. Hansi had a similar problem, whatever it was that was being talked about; none of it could keep his mind off the image of a freshly showered Jogi walking in the room. It didn’t help that his hair was not quite dry yet, due to the fact that before leaving the room he had talked Jogi into taking another shower. Jogi had needed no convincing really, but he enjoyed letting Hansi think he was resistant to the idea and enjoyed even more the playful way Hansi had half dragged and half led him to the shower. It was nice to let someone else be the boss for a change, even if it was only an illusion.
Through showering, getting dressed and having breakfast, Hansi continued to think over the events of that night and the morning that followed it. He thought of how nervous he had been going to Jogi’s room which made no sense since Jogi was the one who had made the first move. Hansi couldn’t help but think it was the wrong time; he didn’t want to be the one to interrupt Jogi’s post match deliberations, especially considering the result. And yet at the same time he could not help himself, something told him this was the perfect time.
When Hansi had opened the door he was surprised to find Jogi sitting quietly and without his not quite perfectly folded paper in hand on which he furiously made notes that only Hansi could decipher. How strange it was that a perfectionist and lover of organisation such as Jogi would like to make notes on such a thing, one would expect him to have a crisp and perfectly clean notebook with equally perfect pages. How Hansi loved Jogi and his crumpled up pieces of paper, those pieces of paper that he would bring out several of at the oddest times, his pockets full of random ideas excitedly jotted down. Hansi loved noting the difference in his handwriting, seeing when something had been written in anger and when it had been written in excitement. Even more amusing than the times he had brought them out to share with Hansi were the random times he occasionally brought them out to make a note of something. Hansi most enjoyed the baffled looks on the faces of anyone who happened to be there, that is people who were not particularly familiar with Jogi and his ways. Anyone who was familiar with him knew enough to know that this normal, that it was pointless to try talking to him until he was finished and not to bother asking what he had just written.
Instead, Jogi was sitting, seemingly deep in thought, a lonesome and troubled look on his face. So deep in thought was he that he hadn’t responded to the sound of the door opening and was as far as Hansi could tell, unaware of his presence. This worried Hansi, even when deep in thought Jogi was always aware of his surroundings, this was not like him at all and he was unsure of how to play this. Hansi decided the best course of action was to go over and sit in the chair next to Jogi.
He did so and then Jogi became aware of his presence but he still didn’t say anything, he smiled at Hansi but this did not make the lonesome look disappear from his eyes. Hansi had gone in the room prepared to deal with an angry Jogi and ready to calm him down. This he was not prepared for, this was not anger, and this was not part of the play-book. Whatever was on Jogi’s mind was more than just the score of the match.
Coming to his senses Jogi took Hansi’s hand and told him that he was glad he was there. He continued, saying that whilst he usually liked to be left alone after a match they had lost, he was glad Hansi was here now. On this night of all nights he simply couldn’t imagine being alone. If Hansi had not come to him, he would have gone to Hansi.
“It’s not just the match Hansi, it’s that you’ll never be by my side again. You’ll never sit next to me again or be there when I turn around.”
“I won’t be there for the next game or the one after or any of them, that’s true. I won’t be there to sit next to you, to celebrate with you or to keep you out of trouble. I won’t lie to you; I’m really going to miss all of that. But I’ll be there next to you every night when you go to sleep and every morning when you wake up. I can’t think of a better consolation prize. If that’s what you get for second place, then who the hell in their right mind would want to be champion?”
Sitting silently, seemingly mulling over what Hansi had said, he did not respond at first. A few moments after he smiled in the way that only Hansi could get him to and repeated the words from that fateful morning “Ich liebe dich Hansi.”
After doing so he got up and still holding Hansi’s hand led him to over to the bed. At work he may no longer be Hansi’s boss, here tonight he most definitely was. And all was right in the world.
I didn’t write this piece today, it’s something I wrote last week but the required phrase fits here perfectly. A very timely prompt.