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That arrogant bastard
Jean grimaced from the club seat, fisting his dress pants as he watched the icon of Germany’s national team score another goal and accept all the cheers and praise from the crowd, waving and blowing them kisses. Reiner Braun was a star on the field and a star off. The press loved him, fans loved him even more and other players envied his stardom. Not Jean though, he merely found Germany’s star player a pain in the ass, as most of his team did. Every interview was a show to him, swooning the reporters and journalists with his smirk and accentuating that gruff accent of his as he answered the simplest of questions. In all fairness, this charm he turned on could work on just about anyone, except Jean, because he was immune to that sort of thing.
On the field was worse, having faced Germany already and gone toe to toe with the defensive midfielder, Jean remembered the way he found their battle for the ball amusing and promising to score a goal for him. Which he did, obviously not for Jean, but for Germany, the second he was able to swipe it away and sprint down the field. Jean worked out relentlessly after that match, running miles to increase his speed and endurance. In the end it helped with their following match against Türkiye, defeating his long time rival Eren Yeager and advancing to the semi finals of the cup.
Now it all came down to the winner of this game, who’d advance into the semi finals with France. Jean hoped for Spain’s victory, making a few jabs that it’d be nice to see Porco put Reiner in his place on the field. Others were anxious to face Germany again, wanting to win a victory after the draw they suffered earlier in the cup. Jean could agree that a win over Germany would do massive things to his ego and finally knock Reiner down a peg. In hindsight, a second match between Germany and France would be much anticipated and draw all sorts of media and potential sponsors, he’d been wanting to do some more promo for himself and the club team he played for back home. Whatever the outcome of this game would set the pace for the semi-finals.
Up until the last quarter the game was tied; two and two, Reiner making both goals for his team and basking in the love for it. Everyone sat on the edge of their seats as both team’s star players battled it out for possession of the ball, Porco seemingly gained the upper hand until attempting to pass to his teammate, just for Reiner to somehow intercept and dribble down to the goal, making the winning shot. Fans below irrupted in cheers, waving the flags snuck into the stadium and chanting Reiner Braun’s name. Jean tried not to show too much emotion, feeling no particular way about the result of the final score.
His teammates that accompanied him to watch the match were leaving the club seats once they noticed Jean starting to leave. Reporters would be swarming Germany’s team once they’d make it down to the lockers and Jean was hoping to slip out before being caught by one. He knew they’d want to ask how he felt about facing Germany again and battling it out in the semi-finals, but he wouldn’t have a headlining answer for them unfortunately.
Only one journalist stopped and got his attention, asking how he felt about facing Germany again for the second time this cup and Jean cordially replied he had no comment at the moment. Who would’ve thought that’d end up on the trending page with a photo the cameraman beside the reporter snapped of him as he was walking away, mid-smile. Now every other post was about his bitterness of the draw or determination to beat the Germans. Should’ve know better than to say anything at all. Though it wasn’t scandalous, it was enough to get people talking about the upcoming match, sides already being taken and bets placed on every aspect of the game.
Their now much anticipated rematch was a week from that day, and since then, practices were going by faster and the adrenaline built. Everyone was excited, even Jean, channeling all that energy into his cardio, hoping to better his endurance even more just to keep up with Braun. He wasn’t going to let himself get caught up in the mind games the german enjoyed playing on the field.
A night prior to the rematch, much of the team had gone out for drinks and begged Jean to join them. For once, he turned the offer down and finished a quick workout routine before returning to his hotel room. First kick would be at noon and though the game was later in the day, Jean was risking nothing and preparing himself for the expected intensity. Germany played strong, carrying so many heavy hitters it was a miracle anyone could score a goal on them at times. France was up there with Germany in reputation and heavy hitting players, even if at times they paled in comparison physically to the German team, they made up for it in speed and agility.
Everything was a blur leaving the hotel that morning and arriving at the stadium, honed in on the game. Jean briefly caught a glimpse of the German team heading to their locker room, picking out Reiner from the crowd and scoffing to himself. For once, Jean was confident about the arrogant prick tucking his tail and loosing, picturing himself scoring the winning goal and running up and down the field in victory, just like Reiner did against Spain. Victory was going to be so sweet, Jean could fucking taste it.
The team’s manger had everyone warming up with light exercises in the gym, leading some stretches and eventually letting them all use the equipment as they pleased, reminding them to not overwork themselves hours before the game. Jean tried not too push himself too hard, but all he could think about was that struggle for the ball with Reiner and his haughtiness, the wink and promise to score a goal for him. Of course it was all taunting to throw Jean off his game and it worked much to his own displeasure.
Their rivalry wasn’t anything new, often playing against one another in club matches or friendlies, though lately something had intensified between them. Reiner was always wishing him specifically good luck when interviewers asked a vague question relating to him or France and Jean still hadn’t be able to figure out whether he was trying to get under his skin or not. Unintentional or not, it was working, even if Jean wouldn’t openly admit it.
Leaving the small gym to refill his water bottle, he took a moment to enjoy the quiet. All of his teammates were in there clamoring around, hyping themselves up for the game and throwing around guesses on who’d score first. So far, a few bets were placed on him and a few others on Conny. It was a fair tie on who it might be between him and his long time friend, though Jean of course hoped to score the first.
Idle thoughts left him against the wall swirling his water bottle and forgetting he was out in the open. Someone approached the fountain and Jean absentmindedly scooted aside, never breaking his dazed thoughts.
“Are you ready?”
Snapping his head over to see none other than Reiner Braun, shirtless with a damp towel hanging around his neck. Only his luck would bring him face to face with his opponent. His hair was a bit damp too, most likely from sweat since there was no plausible explanation for him to shower, not yet at least. The accent was just as gruff as he remembered, staring back at Braun with a face of amusement, proving that this charm of his wouldn’t work on him.
“For the match? Yeah.” Masking his own slight accent that he worked years to lessen.
“For your defeat?” Braun followed up, wiping his face with the towel and standing there before Jean with his hands on his hips. The 185 cm brick wall did everything on purpose, so continuing to grace Jean with his perfectly sculpted body was all a ploy to throw him off, get in his head and enact those mind games.
“As if.” Pushing himself off the wall and taking a swig of his water. Jean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grinned. “Your reign of terror ends today.”
Reiner snorted, then let out a laugh that echoed off the walls, genuinely finding the comment hilarious, which further irritated Jean.
“Terror? You act as if I’m some brute.”
“You are.” Quickly countering back, Reiner simply looked him up and down, satisfied with whatever he was searching for and smacked his lips.
“Well maybe if you worked out more then you’d be a brute like me.”
Asshole. Jean fumed inwardly, swiping his palm down across his face and inhaling a sigh. There was no winning when it came to back and forth with him, nothing could get under the star player’s skin, yet he had such a knack for it. Jean rolled his eyes and took another swig.
“If I did that, then I wouldn’t be as fast, I’d be slow like you.”
His face pinched ever so slightly, narrowing those bright golden eyes into slits and doing another once over. Jean felt proud at the silence, thinking he finally got back at him. Reiner softened and shrugged his shoulders, letting the comment roll off so gracefully.
“You’re probably right, I’d rather admire the long legs of such a good runner than actually have them.” Throwing a wink at the end of his oddly flirtatious comment, sending a small flutter to Jean’s gut and throwing him off completely. How did he have such a way with words? Was it the smoothness of his voice or the way his eyes twinkled as he spoke?
“Flattering.” Deadpanning back to the defensive midfielder, working overtime to not let his eyes wander to the glistening chest, having caught himself staring too long earlier.
“So I’ve been told.” Purposely taking a step forward to invade Jean’s space, allowing a small whiff of the worn off cologne to brush past his nose. Neither of them said a word and Jean wasn’t sure if he was suppose to have a quick come back or to let this banter hang in the air a bit longer. He couldn’t focus with Reiner staring holes into him, thinking there was some truth to the so called “german stare”. Alas, Reiner huffed and folded his arms over his chest, smacking his lips and visibly inhaling and exhaling through his nose.
“I look forward to later, you played impressively against Türkiye, against Yeager.”
What was he supposed to do with that information or well compliment? Was it even that or another snide remarked dressed as an honorific?
“Good, I’ve been looking forward to this.” Motioning between the two of them and being the first to take a step back, signaling the end of this conversation. Reiner granted him another one of his signature smirks and combed through his hair.
“Me too, see you in a bit Kirschstein.” Pronouncing his name in perfect german and turning on heel to disappear back to his team’s locker room. Jean took a moment to process everything, not that there was much to begin with, yet still he stood there sort of dumbly, thinking over everything that had just happened.
Maybe speaking with Braun before the match wasn’t the best of ideas, finding himself so distracted during warm ups that he nearly collided with a team mate during high knees. His head was a mess of Braun’s gruff voice sounding off in his head, the banter, the effortless compliments, all of it. Didn’t change the fact he was still a pain in the ass on and off the field but Jean had never thought of him distastefully either. Healthy competition was good for anyone and Braun provided such in a manner that pushed all his buttons in the least malicious way possible.
Everyone linked arms across the field as the anthems played, Jean faintly singing along and and keeping beat by tapping on Conny’s shoulder. Across from him, Reiner remained stoic even when their national anthem rang out through the stadium, watching his lips move along to the words and even catching the small glance he made his way. Flurries of butterflies swarmed in his gut at the way Braun winked and jogged off to their box at the end, hydrating quickly before taking his spot on the field. Jean did the same, going over the plays in his head as he toned out the roar of cheers from the fans, focused on taking the win from the team that they always seemed to end in a draw.
The pitch smelled fresh, a familiar scent he always associated with those summer days he’d play with the neighborhood kids, kicking the ball around, scraping their knees and going home drenched in sweat, all to sleep soundly that same night. Jean has always enjoyed this game, the adrenaline that comes with it and the pride of winning a match. Plenty of other players said the same, yet it were painfully obvious who cared more about the money than the game itself. Jean would admit that the money was nice, extremely nice considering he never had a whole lot growing up, but his love for the game itself would outweigh the sensation of wealth.
Planting his feet into the fresh pitch, Jean locked in on the ball above the referee’s hand following it all the way down and flexing his thighs to initiate. Reiner could be spotted just off from his team’s midfielder across from Jean, hardened as if he were going to battle. The whistle blew and Jean’s feet dug into the soft dirt, pushing himself off to get to the ball first succeeding and dancing around to pass it off, hoping to score within the first few minutes. If his team managed to pull it off, the game could go either way. Parts of Jean knew a goal that soon would just stonewall their chances of getting a second and Germany would turn hellbent on evening the score. Whatever happened he hoped the outcome would be the same.
Germany proved relentless as expected, blocking three of Jean’s shots into their net, frustrating him more than expected. He knew getting passed their defensive line would be a challenge, yet their goalkeeper proved to be an even bigger one. It should be against the rules to have someone as tall as Bertholdt Hoover standing in the goal and preventing Jean from getting his victory. Nevertheless, Jean couldn’t let one tall goalkeeper prevent his dreams of pounding Germany and Reiner into the dirt.
Half time nearly came as quickly as he remembers getting ready for the first kick, back in the lockers and stealing an elastic headband from his teammate to keep all the sweaty strands of hair out of his eyes. Their manager was the least bit happy with them, relaying his expectations for this game and how entering halftime with no goals brought them closer to elimination. Jean knew as did everyone else huddled in a circle around their manager, but what could he possibly expect from them with Reiner Braun intercepting nearly all their passes and breaking up plays? Well, they could do what they have been doing but doing it harder. Jean took a moment to remind himself of their last match against the team, the smug smile and promise from the defensive midfielder and how the equalizing goal was shot for him.
“I expect a win! Not a loss, a win!” Their team manager shouted in French, further instilling his desire to eliminate Germany. Jean and everyone else shared the same, and focused to channel their desire into their reappearance onto the field in a few minutes.
Burning with passion and adrenaline, Jean jogs back out to the pitch, drowning out the cheers from the fans and squirting more than enough water into his mouth. Lining up for the first kick again, Jean scanned the players around him going through the plays just as he did in the first half, picking out who he should pass too. Conny was fast and off his right, centered in the easiest and quickest way to the goal. Jean’ll aim for Conny and outrun the opponents, ensuring he’d be open incase the strike doesn’t make it into the back of the net.
Whistle blown and Jean did exactly as he ran through in his head, taking the ball and passing it to Conny with effortless ease, watching the man dribble and sprint down the pitch, taking the Germans by surprise. A burning in Jean’s leg suddenly began, choosing to ignore it and continue his sprint down to potentially assist Conny. The man was a few yards in front of him, working his feet with such determination the player defending him tripped up, giving his friend the clearest shot. Thank god he took it, striking it right past the goalkeeper and making the first goal of the game.
Cheers erupted in the stadium, amplifying their success in the quick move. Jean jumped on Conny in celebration, shaking the man and turning him to bask in the praise from the devoted fans. Though the celebration was short lived, the adrenaline wasn’t. Much of the game had flown by already and now things were slowing. Jean could hear every breath he took, every brush of grass beneath his boots and the shouts of players in the background of it all. He let one of the other center midfielders kick off in the center, hanging back some as that sensation started in his leg again. But Jean had to push through, there was no time to try and stretch it out.
Germany, now hellbent more than ever to score succeeded not long after theirs. Something about the goal felt so taunting, at least it wasn’t Reiner who scored this time.
Back and forth the two teams went, getting more and more aggressive. Someone took the usual shoving too far with one of Jean’s teammates, immediately calling for a corner kick. The referee agreed passing the ball to France and commencing the contentious flow of the game once more.
Another goal for France and this time Jean reaped the praise and the cheers. Everyone was taken by surprise, even himself, battling for the ball in the six yard box and even at one point loosing it. Though he was quick to recover, swiping it from an opponent and frantically kicking it in the direction of the net. No on expected it to go in, but it didn’t take away the surging sensation of victory flowing through Jean.
2-1. Germany needing another goal to equalize the game and send this match into overtime. Jean was drenched in sweat, but never loosing his momentum. That sensation in his leg would flare up when he sprinted down the field and each time he noticed, the worse it seemed to get. But again, he couldn’t stop or wouldn’t allow himself to stop. Blame it on ego but he’d rather play till the end of the match than be subbed out, this victory over Germany was too important for him to witness from the bench.Much of this match had little interaction with Reiner so far, and Jean wasn’t sure if that were a good thing.
Twenty minutes left with France still in the lead. Even with the minimum stoppage and the time already flying by for Jean, so much could change with what remained.
Reiner had either been hanging back or Jean really hadn’t noticed him at all, not until the german player defending him got the ball from his feet and started taking off for the goal. There was a clear path. Jean’s stomach dropped and he was sprinting once more, pushing himself harder each sprint, more than determined to beat the player. Everyone behind him was catching up, though none were at fast as him. His opponent readied the shot, pulling his leg back to kick, except his foot hit noting but air as Jean made a last minute decision to slide in from the side and kick the opportunity away.
What a dumb decision that ended up being, face down in the pitch and clutching the back of his thigh. There wasn’t as much of a burn as he’d been feeling while running, more of a cramp that threaten everything holy at the moment. Embarrassment came over him as teammates came circled around, waving them off just as quickly, promising he was fine. The game had stopped momentarily and the referee spoke but Jean struggled to really hear what he had to say.
“It’s just a cramp.” Blurting out annoyed, turning over and attempting the bend the afflicted leg, only to bite his inner cheek to keep the noises of discomfort from echoing throughout the stadium.
The referee didn’t say anything else and hopefully walked away. Jean reached for where it ached the most on the back of is thigh, hearing a small thud from something beside him and choosing to peek from beneath his eyes. Reiner knelt on one knee right by his leg and brushed his hand away, replacing it with is own.
“What are you doing?” Sitting up and almost scooting away, only Reiner’s hand on his thigh kept him still.
“Helping.” Unbending his leg and raising it in the air, resting it against his shoulder. “Can’t have you out of the game.” Sliding his hand down to where the muscle tightened and flexed, putting mild pressure behind his thumb as he soothed with circles.
“Why do you care?” Methodically observing the hand that gradually relieved the painful cramp, but ignoring how his cheeks felt hot and not from the constant running. Reiner shrugged and dipped his hand down lower, right near his buttocks and where the cramp began. Jean swallowed, clenching his fists in the grass, praying for the cramp to hurry up and relieve itself.
“Because it wouldn’t be worth playing if you weren’t on the pitch.” Pressing a little harder into the muscle, dragging the two fingers down along where the cramp pulsed. Reiner huffed amusingly when Jean didn’t say anything back right away, and Jean remained speechless with a parched throat and a burning in his gut.
There wasn’t anything Jean could come up with to say, blushing and truly feeling the hands and fingers running up and down his thigh. God what the hell was wrong with him? Reiner wasn’t ever someone to make him so flustered, what was different about it now? Obviously Jean never hated the man, viewed him as a worthy adversary on the field, but had he ever really taken a second to appreciate the kind of player Reiner was? Maybe not. Though it wasn’t uncommon for players from another team to stretch out their opponent, it was more usually teammates who took on the task. Reiner went out of his way or was the closest player at the time. No matter how Jean looked at it, the flush in his cheeks felt hotter and the fire in his gut built intensely. The german star play was an indeed an attractive suave man, Jean acknowledged that a long time ago, it was only now that he was seeing those attributes and the respect he had for the game.
“Better?” Reiner asked, breaking through his thoughts.
Jean didn’t wait to answer, rising to his feet and noticing the cramp was no more, beyond relieved.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“No problem.” Nodding and tapping Jean’s arm as he sprinted back to where the other players were gathered on the field, looking back over his shoulder to wink and Jean had to remind himself he was suppose to be sprinting back too.
Not a lot of time between Jean’s cramp and Germany scoring the equalizing goal had passed. Reiner was the one to score this time and he took no issue running down the field, arms spread and cheering as if he’d won the match. All of what Jean thought about earlier vanished, the arrogance was back and more irritating than ever. Hope was not lost yet, time still remained in the match and Jean will not let this end in a flight home tomorrow.
All his teammates felt the same and Jean didn’t have to ask to know. The entire atmosphere shifted in the stadium, an intensity lingering thick in the air as everyone waited for Germany on their corner kick. His poor heart beat vigorously against his ribcage, reminding Jean it was still there in an echoing thump. Minutes were left in the game and those could either be the longest or shortest minutes of his life.
Jean zeroed in on the ball as it returned to the field, watching feet dribble endlessly for control. Most of the players were taking no chances for possession and for what he thinks was the longest moment of his life, France finally got the ball out of the huddle.
Completely forgetting about his leg, Jean took off again to provide coverage for his team mate, shoving a german player away after he tried to do the same to him. No one was going to take this away, he’d worked too hard to lose. The net came into clear sight, Hoover crouched, hands open and ready to catch any attempts at a goal. Conny was on the other side of the box looking to pass and Jean made sure to make himself seen. Ball now in his own possession, Jean dribbles around the players coming to steal his glory. Nothing was going to stop him.
Lining up for the kick, Jean struck low hoping to out maneuver Hoover by seconds to allow it in. But Reiner stole the moment, kicking it up into the air before it ever got close enough to the goalkeeper. Enraged, Jean pushed his way to the front, sending all momentum to his legs and leaping above everyone, quickly transferring his strength back to his upper body and heading the ball.
A roar rang out in the stadium, everyone jumping from their seats to celebrate the unexpected goal. Jean, dazed from adrenaline, attempted to keep his footing as a herd of his teammates jumped all over him. He did it. He made the winning goal and knocked Germany out from the rest of the cup. The sensation took it’s time coming over Jean, letting himself be jostled around and cheered at.
“And there it is folks! France has eliminated Germany and will advance to the finals!” The announcer cheered over the loud speaker, though the crowd was still so loud no one could really hear, but they knew.
Across from the celebrations on the field, Germany took the loss hard, some dropping to their knees or hiding their faces in their jerseys. And Jean ironically found himself looking around to see if he could find Reiner, an urge to speak the man making itself present. Frantically he searched without making it obvious and still struggled to find him. By now, Reiner must’ve returned to the rest of the team on the sidelines, not wanting to face the humiliation that came with loosing.
Everyone proceeded with post match courtesies, lining up to congratulate the winners and to thank the losers for a good match. Everyone besides Jean did little to hide their happiness in defeating the famed national team, unabashedly smiling as hands swipes across hands. Jean remained stoic, knowing first hand how hard it was to take a defeat like this, hoping the opponents weren’t too hard on themselves.
Getting back to the locker room took forever. Everyone from the staff to officiants for the cup wanted to celebrate on field with the winning team. Jean was forced into the front of the team photo, his teammates crediting him for their victory and their advancement into the next round. The praise was welcomed and of course he bathed in it all that he could, because if it weren’t for his quick thinking then it would be him sulking around and wishing he did more.
There was no rush to leave despite the victory, sitting on the bench and scrolling through his phone as teammates filtered in and out of the locker room. Conny was still celebrating with a few others in one corner of the room, jumping up and down and playing a song Jean couldn’t make out, hyping himself up and the few players who joined him.
“Jean? Are you coming with us to the bar?” Conny asked, pausing the music to saunter over, still sweaty from either the game or all the jumping around he did just now. Probably both.
“Maybe, I’m gonna shower here first and then I’ll join you.”
Conny cocked his brow and snorted out his nose, covering a laugh. “Just shower back at the hotel.”
“Yeah and get on a bus with all of you, who also haven’t showered to sit in traffic for god knows how long?” Shaking his head and stretching his legs out in front of him. Conny didn’t necessarily disagree.
“The bus left after dropping us off.”
“What?” Interrupting him without even realizing there was still more to be said.
“Yeah, coach sent them back and said he’d be sending cars to take us back to the hotel, I’m about to text him to send one for me and some of the guys now.” Waving the phone in his hand as if Jean needed further confirmation to believe what Conny had said.
“Oh, alright.” Shrugging and returning his focus briefly to the calf stretches he was doing, hoping to prevent any future cramps. With what seemed like the majority of his team leaving, Jean didn’t want to waste the opportunity for a quiet shower. Sure he could’ve very easily taken a car back to the hotel, but he was already here and some players already began to filter out.
Conny shrugged after another attempt to get Jean to come with him and the other guys, reminding him to text if he needed anything. A few stragglers remained, having the same idea as Jean in showering here to wait for the traffic to die down. Though slightly annoyed it wasn’t just him, there was one work around to that problem he could easily solve.
Slinging his bag over his shoulder and letting the locker room door shut behind him, Jean stuttered in his steps when a familiar cramp shot through his thigh. The same spot throbbed and twisted beneath the skin, annoying Jean even more as he headed to the other locker room space. The stadium they played in was huge, able to accommodate more than just two competing teams, making it perfect for Jean to relax in a little solitude.
Leaving the door unlocked behind him, having no fear someone would come in and ruin his obscure way of decompressing, Jean tossed his bag and plopped down on a bench, reaching to massage the cramp in his thigh. Whatever he was doing failed to offer relief, attempting to imitate the way Reiner massaged it on the field. Turns out thinking about the man sent a shiver up his spine and a fresh blush to his face, ceasing his motions and taking a moment to wash those quickly fantasizing thoughts away.
“Jesus fucking christ.” Muttering under his breath as he applied more pressure, circling his thumbs angrily and insistently.
Slowly the cramp subsides and Jean can comfortably move again without doubling over in pain and thinking the world was ending. Now about that shower.
Jean leaves the rest of his things to seek out the showers, playfully letting out a groan of relief when he sees how nice they are. Turning the handle all the way to the hottest setting, Jean returns to the bench to wait for the water to warm, checking social media and see how everyone else was reacting to the win.
“Kirschstein scores the winning goal for France!”
“France with an last minute unexpected goal secures them to the finals!”
“Jean Kirschstein and his amazing header and how this victory is more than just a win for him and his team.”
The headlines were praising him more than the team itself. Flattered, Jean scrolls for a bit longer, reading all the posts about his header and how much of a fight the team put up against Germany for this win. There were a few mentioning Germany but the headline was always overshadowed by France. Unsurprisingly, Braun was mentioned nearly as much as he was, about the save before Jean secured the win.
“Braun manages a save but it’s all in vain, France secured the victory over one of Europe's most dominant teams.”
“How this loss might affect star players like Braun and what it means for Germany moving forward.”
“Braun nearly saves the day but nearly wasn’t good enough for Germany.”
Jesus. Jean felt even worse for Braun now, hoping he hadn’t been reading the trending headlines and all the people leaving their comments under each post. Being in the limelight always came with the negatives and just reading some of the nasty comments fans were leaving about Germany and the team players, had a tinge of regret pooling in his gut. Not enough to think he shouldn’t have saved the game with his header, but a smidgen from seeing how negatively fans were already reacting.
By now the shower was fully warmed or rather scalding hot, but Jean couldn’t put his phone down, too engrossed in all the positive and negative posts and comments. Completely oblivious to anything around him, Reiner stood in the doorway to the locker room perplexed to see Jean already in here.
Someone cleared their throat and Jean was jumping out of his skin, letting out a surprised shout, staring at Braun.
“What are you doing here?” Accusing each other at the same time. Jean scrunched his face and shot up from the bench he was sitting on, ready to kick Braun out before he could actually step past the doorway.
“Trying to shower? You?” Reiner spoke half a minute later, popping the chewing gum inside his cheek and deciding to enter all the way.
“I thought you’d been gone by now.” Tossing his hair out of his eyes and resting his hands on his hips.
“Our manager gave us an earful for god knows how long.” Tossing his bag haphazardly towards Jean’s, peeling his sweat soaked jersey from himself. Jean felt that pang of regret in his chest learning why Germany’s team remained in the stadium still. “And the shower’s are crowded and I just want some fucking space.”
Awkwardly, Jean averted his eyes from the rippling back and shoulder muscles flexing as Reiner reached his arms above his head to loosen his joints and ligaments. It was hard to tell how much this loss had gotten to Braun or if the talking to his manager gave irritated him more.
“There’s another locker room with showers on the other side of the stadium.” Hoping his authoritative tone conveyed his own want for space. Reiner barely looked over his shoulder and huffed, turning to face Jean.
“Well I wasn’t expecting to find you in here.” Crossing his arms over his chest, visibly sizing him up. Jean swallowed, annoyed how easily intimidated he felt all of a sudden or was it something else. “Are you not going out to celebrate?”
“I need a shower first.” Rolling his eyes as he’s already told nearly every other team member of his the same thing already.
“And you came in here because?”
For fuck sake! Jean clenched his teeth and rapidly tapped his foot on the padded floors. “Because I wanted some space too and some fucking quiet.”
Shouldering past Braun to check on the temperature of his shower, already knowing it had to be boiling by this point.
Steam billowed like thick clouds in the tile laid bathroom, impairing Jean’s vision as he ripped back the curtain to “check” if his water was warm enough. He could hear Braun moving around behind him, crossing his fingers it meant he was about to leave him be. But no, Jean came back to where his stuff was at to see Reiner rapidly texting and frozen in place. Whoever he was texting must’ve watched the game and chose to console the star defensive midfielder or to scold him.
“One of these days I’m just going to throw away my phone.” Mindlessly tossing it to his bag on the floor and facing Jean again, not appearing to be any less strained than when he first encroached on Jean’s “space”.
“Tell me about it.” Concluding that Reiner had no plans to leave and accepted he would just be here until Jean was done. Whatever, it’s not like he had to go out tonight, there was plenty of time to celebrate the win until the next match.
Going to sit down on the bench next to the one Reiner was sitting on, the cramp flared up in his leg again, exclaiming and grabbing the back of his thigh. How fucking annoying!! Jean had to have overextended it in the match today for it to still be giving him issues. Sitting on the very edge of the bench, Jean reached around to the back of his thigh and massaged it with his thumbs, harsher than he had before. Which would explain why it wasn’t relieving itself after thirty frantic seconds of pressing and rubbing.
“Let me see,” Reiner stood over him, uniform shorts resting low on his hips, giving Jean the perfect view of his happy trail. Nervously waving him off, Jean ignored Reiner and continued to try and get rid of the cramp, but Reiner was not in the mood to watch him struggle apparently.
“God you’re stubborn.” Dropping down to one knee and taking the leg to toss it over his shoulder, prompting Jean to grip the edge of the bench to keep balance. Reiner’s thumbs pressed gently down on the muscle alternating between light massaging circles, offering the relief Jean struggled to give himself.
Eerily quiet besides the spray of the shower in the back ground, Jean puts all his effort into not noticing how close Reiner’s face was to his crotch. He was going to have to pull off a miracle to not pop a boner in front of him. Only, why was Jean worried about that exactly? It’s not like he was touch starved to the point Braun’s big hands massaging the back of his thigh was making it hard to keep his mind from entering the gutter. Okay, maybe it had been a while since he got laid. But Reiner of all people should not be effecting him like this!
“You’re tight back here.” Muttering under his breath, abandoning the press and circling method with his thumbs and feeling around the entire backside of his thigh. Jean gulped and rolled his eyes at the play on words, braving himself to look down instead of the ceiling. Reiner didn’t even bother to look up, moving his hands higher and higher up his leg, nearly pressing his cheek to his inner thigh. Was god testing his restraint or was this some kind of sick punishment?
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“Mm no, unless you want it to be.” Flicking his eyes up at Jean and teasing a small smirk, then resuming his focus. “You might’ve strained your hamstring.”
Not like Jean hasn’t done that before, he knows the routine for recovery and can easily bounce back before the next match. “Explains the reoccurring cramps then.”
“Mhm.” Barely even bothering to respond, still feeling around on his thigh and gently massaging wherever he felt tension. For a moment, Jean assumed Reiner would put his leg down and let him take a shower, now needing to sooth the strain with heat to speed up his already quick recovery he had in mind. But no, Reiner kept him where he was at, so focused on massaging his injured leg.
At least it felt nice, Braun really knowing how to work his hands in ways that could make a man melt. Jean didn’t even care that it felt like the hands were wandering beyond the tight area of muscle, soaking in the massage he really didn’t know he needed until now.
“God are you a masseuse in your free time?” Displayed against the bench with the lockers to lean his shoulders against, beginning to see the positions both of them were in.
“No.” Smiling as if he were lying, pausing a moment to stare back at Jean. That flipping in his stomach was back, looking down at Reiner perfectly between his legs and mere inches from his crotch. Fuck, maybe if Reiner initiated Jean wouldn’t be inclined to refuse, the man already proved he knew how to relax someone effortlessly. A knowing tilt from one corner of his mouth brought a soft chuckle from Jean, throwing one arm behind his head.
“You sure? I’d pay you to work out the tension in my shoulders.” Wiggling his brows, unaware of his own implication. Reiner shook his head and moved the hem of his shorts further up Jean’s leg, revealing the toned quad muscles.
“My hands work best from the waist down.” Rumbling in a chuckle as he tested the waters and brushed his lips across Jean’s inner knee, peering at through heavy lids. Jean anxiously chewed the skin at his bottom lip, torn between putting a stop to this and letting it play out a little more.
“And you just know I’m assuming.” Casually fixing his leg on Reiner’s shoulder better, seeing the man catch on. A small smack of his lips and a short sigh prickled Jean’s arms in goosebumps, anticipation running hot and wild inside him. There wasn’t a point to try and deny what was obviously happening, even if the build up was continuing to draw out, Jean accepted that maybe he wanted Reiner and perhaps the competition between them had been the kindling of this fire between each other than he swore off as unexplainable.
“Well yeah, or I wouldn’t have said that.” Carefully dragging his lips past his inner knee and more into his inner thigh, keeping his touch light enough for Jean to crave more. And that’s exactly what Jean felt, he wanted to know what the warmth of Reiner’s tongue on his skin felt like, wanted to shiver when he eventually thought back on it. His other hand that remained by his side itched to move, itched to guide Reiner where he wanted, no longer straining himself to keep the blood from rushing down to his groin.
“What else are you good at besides knowing how to use your hands?” Sounding drunk when he spoke, meeting those uniquely golden eyes and seeing the twinkle of excitement flash through them like a shooting star. Reiner chuckled again, moving the hem of his shorts on his other leg further up, leaving Jean to regret not taking his shirt off at least.
“Do you wanna find out?” Kissing the opposite leg and continuing upwards with shorter pecks, specifically watching the tent in Jean’s shorts grow prominent.
Jean squirmed for a moment, sitting up off of just the lockers to give himself enough room to tear off his jersey, moaning inside his head at the offer.
“I wouldn’t have said that if I didn’t.” Throwing Reiner’s own words back at him and reclining against the lockers, threading his fingers through the blonde hair and guiding him away from his inner thigh. Complying, Reiner laughed more vocally this time and pressed his mouth and nose to the half hard cock behind the shorts. Jean fully relaxed his legs and insisted on more contact, using his hand to press his face harder.
Both of Reiner’s hands palmed the thighs, pushing the one not on his shoulder further away to spread the French national player wider. A small groan escaped Jean, rolling his hips off the bench as Reiner began to mouth at his cock. Somehow, this was more erotic than feeling the warmth of his mouth, something about the barrier heightened the desperation in him, both of them for that matter. A sneaky hand smooth up his abdomen, teasing him more by pulling at the hem of his shorts, almost as if they were about to come down. Reiner’s hand continued up and down for a moment as he kissed and hummed against the clothed erection, veering off to the side on his way back up and finding a nipple, exactly what he was looking for.
Smooth but rough finger tips rubbed over Jean’s sensitive nipple, never breaking his gaze from between his legs, no matter how good the slight stimulation was making him feel. Reiner ran the flat of his tongue from base to tip over the athletic material, bumping his nose against the head of his cock comically sticking straight up, dropping his jaw to engulf the entirety, Instantly Jean’s head hit the back of the lockers with a bang, lifting his hips as if he could shove his cock down Reiner’s throat this way, the material thin enough to feel the saliva seep through and onto his skin.
“You wanna stand up?”
Surprised to hear the question and realizing Reiner had stopped touching him completely, Jean frowned.
“For what?”
Reiner sat back on his knees and Jean could see the very obvious boner he had himself, wondering if he had a cock to match his sheer physical size.
“Don’t make me spell it out for you.” Reaching forward to pull down his shorts, freeing his cock and bouncing it off his stomach. The cool air from the AC had Jean shuttering again, instinctively grabbing himself at the base. Somehow his leg remained on Reiner’s shoulder still and though he didn’t want to move it, if he was going to have Braun take him all the way down like he assumed the other implied, the shorts needed to go.
Quickly ripping them off and flinging them aside, Jean pulled Reiner forward again with his leg, giving himself a smooth stroke.
“Do you wanna suck my cock? Is that what were going to spell out for me?” Twisting his hand around the tip and clamping down on his bottom lip. Reiner, stunned for words, absentmindedly wet his bottom lip, tilting his head back to better align himself. Seeing this Jean jumped on the opportunity, tapping his cock against Reiner’s lips and chuckling as a bead of pre-cum smeared along the Cupid's bow.
“Wanna fuck you too.” Resuming to wrap his hand around the leg over his shoulder, slipping his tongue out to flatten against the frenulum, tracing it to the slit at the tip, never once breaking eye contact. For the thousandth time, Jean shuttered but let his noise of pleasure reach Reiner’s ears, reaching to grip the soft blonde hair again.
“There’s lube in my bag.” Breathlessly noting, expecting the cocked brow, rolling his eyes and following with an explanation. “What? I was gonna fuck whether we won or lost today.”
Everything about that was amusing to Reiner, kissing the tip and reaching for Jean’s bag without coming out from between his legs. For a moment he dug around until finding a small tube, holding it up for confirmation. Jean nodded and rolled his hips into Reiner’s face, refusing to shy away from his lustful want.
“Sure you don’t want to move?” Asking again while situating himself better, unscrewing the cap to the bottle, not caring where it went as he set it just within reach.
“Nah, I’m fine like this, view’s better.” Winking to him as he once again asked with the motion of his hips, just waiting for the warm wet mouth to engulf his cock. Reiner shrugged and adjusted Jean’s leg and himself, kissing down the shaft and licking his way back up, swiping the beading liquid from the slit.
Every nerve in Jean’s body was on fire, almost growing impatient with the teasing from the tongue alone. All of Reiner’s moves were precise and practiced, showing his experience when it came to giving pleasure. Jean didn’t need to think too hard on that part and instead enjoyed the view. Which was a fantastic view, one that he intended to imprint on his memory.
In the midst of working his way up to taking Jean down, his own cock throbbed painfully in his shorts, quickly pulling them down just enough so it wasn’t confined anymore. Jean pleaded with a gentle huff and letting his head fall back as Reiner swirled his tongue around the tip, ready to say something to stop the teasing. Thankfully he didn’t have to as Reiner gracefully sucked the tip into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and beginning a slow descent to the base.
God, Jean had almost forgotten how good this felt. The caress of a warm mouth suffocating all the way down and the saliva that would eventually roll down to his balls. Reiner must be talented in all aspects, already experiencing the familiar tightness in his gut as the man bobbed up and down, digging his fingers into the ridged muscle of his thigh.
“Fuck, god fuck,” Shamelessly moaning, bending the arch in his back and pushing his chest into the air as waves of euphoria rippled like calm waves over his body. His reaction was pleasing to Reiner, the vibrations of his groan the evidence as he alternated between bobbing and dragging his mouth.
Carefully, without breaking the rhythm, Reiner reached for the lube and squeezed some onto his finger. Jean was in a bit of an awkward position and hadn’t been keen on moving, so Reiner was just going to have to make do. Coming off with a pop, Reiner took in a long breath and kissed down the shaft again, going further to mouth at Jean’s balls as his finger pressed against his hole. Jean noticed immediately, but before he could even ask what he was doing, Reiner came up with a devilishly gleeful expression.
“Gotta multitask here,” Circling his finger, teasing the intrusion a little just to watch Jean’s brows furrow and pinch. “I wanna fuck you but you want me to suck your cock and I’m not wasting any time between when you cum and getting inside you.”
Miraculously, Jean’s cheeks flared even redder and even hotter, moving himself so the bench would be against his lower back and giving Reiner a better angle. To show his appreciation, Reiner eased the lubed finger inside him and Jean found it impossible to not tense up but he still fought against it. Reiner was muttering something under his breath and groaning, sitting on his knees all the way and taking Jean back into his mouth.
Double stimulation was a dangerous game and Reiner knew how to play it to make Jean forget about not wanting to cum just yet. If anything, Jean thinks he might be able to cum twice with how good he felt at the moment and the fact he thinks Reiner could pull it off as well.
“No need to rush, I’m sure we can arrange another time to do this, you seem to like it.” Taunting with seriousness, keeping himself balanced with a hand palmed to the lockers behind his head, panting like a dog at the way Reiner sat him in the back of his throat, showing no signs of discomfort.
“Doesn’t matter if we do or not,” Confessing after coming off him again, twisting the finger inside of Jean before pumping it faster than how he started, grinning like the damn devil as the squirming couldn’t be stopped. “I wanna be inside you, but I’m also nice enough to let you cum first.”
The tinge or well obvious arrogance snapped apart of Jean out of his euphoric gaze, upper lip curling in a rebuttal.
“Who said I’d come first?” As if his balls hadn’t been getting tighter and tighter since Reiner first took him in his mouth, and the bastard knew that from the way and dropped a glob of spit onto the tip.
“No one said anything, but who can deny the obvious.” Sucking just the tip back into his mouth and flicking his tongue over the sensitive slit. Jean tried to grip the lockers behind despite it being impossible, overwhelmed by the mouth and the finger working overtime to make this orgasm happen.
More or less giving up, Jean moaned and groaned to each thing Reiner did, which somehow kept him relaxed to allow Reiner to slip a second finger inside him. The stretch was palpable, thick fingers massaging and rubbing inside while his cock remained to get slobbered on. Perhaps this was a fitting reward for winning the match.
“Fuck you look so good right now, you know that?” Came Reiner’s gruff voice as he stopped for a breath, fingering Jean purposefully as if he were searching for something.
“I was gonna say the same thing, I like you on your knees.” Grabbing his hair tightly and smiling down at him. Reiner laughed approvingly, turning to bite and suck at the soft inner thighs, knowing he was for sure going to leave marks, Jean just hoped they wouldn’t be too low.
His cock seemingly abandoned for the moment, Jean fixed the problem with his hand as Reiner prepped for him for his cock. He was the most relaxed he’s been since this whole cup started, thinking maybe he should be doing this before or after each match. Though his pleasurable relaxation lasted a second longer before Reiner brushed up against something, something that made Jean shoot up and moan so loudly anyone walking by the locker room would hear.
“Right there?” Tauntingly asking, brushing his fingers up against it again, shivering to how Jean’s eyes rolled into the back of his head.
“Fuck — yeah right there, you’re gonna make me—”
“Cum?” Finishing for Jean, snickering as he lapped across his balls. “Want you to cum for me, need to know what you taste like baby.”
Words alone might’ve sent Jean over the edge, but it was the third finger and the return of Reiner’s mouth that had his entire body tensing and his cum shooting directly down the star player’s throat. Now his body was limp and jello like, moaning softly to how hadn’t even come up after he orgasmed. But pleasure still lapped softly over his body as the fingers inside him continued to work and Jean wasn’t sure how much more he could take.
“Shit, ah fuck.” Groaned Reiner after releasing himself from around Jean’s cock and stopping his fingers, sitting back to breath and Jean’s eye’s widened to seen gentle lines of cum running down from the tip.
“You came?” Truly surprised and now slightly disheartened, thinking this was the end to their escapade.
“Yeah, didn’t mean too but.” Stroking himself and slathering the cum all over his cock, a smile curling into his lips. Jean wasn’t sure what this was supposed to entail, though it felt like he’d at least get to have Reiner inside him.
Stepping out of his shorts and grabbing Jean from the armpits, Reiner pressed him against the lockers and encouraged Jean to wrap his legs around him, finally taking him for a long awaited kiss. Jean didn’t have much energy to ask what the hell he was doing nor to even properly react to feeling Reiner’s lips against his, settling for reciprocating the messy wet kiss and ignoring the bench being kicked out of the way in distant earshot.
Each of Reiner’s hands gripped one ass cheek, keeping Jean spread as he poked the tip of his cock against his hole, all while devouring his mouth in insatiable hunger. And thank god for that, Reiner began to slowly insert himself while still sucking the air from his lungs and Jean couldn’t decide where to focus.
There was no way to tell how much of Reiner was inside him, doing his best to ignore those thoughts as he kissed and licked against the blond’s open mouth. Reiner grunted, breaking the kiss and scrunching his face, slowly entering Jean all the way.
“Shit.” Cursing louder than expected, digging his nails into the back of Reiner’s neck, letting the back of his head rest against the lockers as he finally bottomed out. Reiner huffed, winded from the passionate kissing and spared Jean a small glance as he began to pull out, shoving himself back in.
Mixture of pain and pleasure quickly blurred into the blinding intoxication, the one where stars litter the eyes and the only focus is on the man holding you up to shove his dick in and out. Jean couldn’t tell if he was melting in his arms or tensing impossibly tight with each thrust, all he knew was that it felt good, too good.
Reiner’s cock built momentum, gliding seamlessly with each piston from his hips. Jean couldn’t find anything witty to say, simple moaning and groaning with each thrust, trying to focus on who should be his rival, but that was blurring into nothing. His body tried to run from the pleasure if that were even possible, still trying to find a grip on the lockers like they were malleable and it was futile. He arched like he were laid on a soft feathered bed and not the cold metal behind him, feeling his cock twitch to life once more as the fat shaft and head inside of him rubbed and poked against his prostate.
“Feel good?” Came the question, albeit a stupid fucking question since Jean was moaning louder than he has with anyone before. But he’ll indulge Reiner’s ego, just this one time.
“Fuck yeah,” And there’s was more to be said than just that, but managing to get those two words out through the fit of moans was a challenge in itself. Reiner basked in the praise all the same, spreading his ass cheeks further apart and hammering his cock.
Incoherent words stumbled out of Jean then, arching once more and pressing part of himself to Reiner. The blond took the opportunity to nip and suck along the available skin, eventually taking Jean’s nipple into his mouth. All of it was too much, though not enough to wish for it to end. Reiner continued to kiss up and along his chest after abandoning the nipple, biting at his collarbone and grunting his name each time his cock re-entered him. Jean caressed the back of his hair and moved his hand down to where his cock was sandwiched between them, giving himself an experimental stroke.
Whether Reiner saw or not, Jean was being shoved down on his cock and brought face to face, taken for another kiss. Somehow this kiss was lengthier, like time stopped for them and them only so their mouths could memorize the taste of each other. It felt so passionate, lovers from previous lifetimes finding each other again and reminding the other what it felt like to press their lips together. Slowly, Jean could feel Reiner moving again, shallowly thrusting to build the relentless pace again, nudging directing into his prostate. Both of them groaned long and deep, the frantic-ness of sex melting off like sweat to leave the sensation of experiencing the other.
“Thought about doing this once or twice.” Roughness scratched against Reiner’s voice, accentuating the faint german accent he still had. A bit stunned, Jean looked him in the eye.
“Fucking me?” Dumbly asking, beginning to smile when Reiner quietly laughed, slowing the pace once more.
“Yeah, you’re hot I’m sure plenty of people have thought about doing this with you.” Deciding to keep Jean on his toes and snapping his hips particularly sharp, sending a throb to the cock he’d been mindlessly stroking.
“Doubt that.” Kissing Reiner again, asking for more and everything else that was left unsaid. Thankfully Reiner could read him like a book, slamming himself back and forth once more, letting a few pathetic sounding moans vibrate between the kiss.
Everything was sweaty and thick with sex, and Jean couldn’t help but hope for Reiner to stave off his orgasm a bit longer. Selfishly he didn’t want the obvious of absence to follow and yet at the same hand he wanted to know what it felt like to be filled by none other than Reiner Braun. And he was close to getting his wish, watching him shutter and groan, throw his head back just to slam Jean’s into the lockers with a fierce kiss.
“Inside?” He breathed hoarsely, hoping the question was futile and Jean would want it anyway.
“Yeah—inside.” Croaking back, fisting his own cock rapidly ignoring the rub from his palm and the sting of not wet enough skin moving against each other. Reiner snarled in a groan, biting Jean’s bottom lip and slipping his tongue between his teeth, keeping them silent despite wanting to freely release their noises into the air. Maybe another time, somewhere not as open and vulnerable.
One last sharp thrust and Reiner stilled completely, pressing their foreheads together. The expel of a breath brought a pleased smile while his cock pumped and twitch inside, unloading fully. His own orgasm followed, spilling into his hand and stomach, creating a sticky mess that would need to be cleaned. Jean airily chuckled, reaching to brush back the wet strands sticking to Reiner’s forehead, tilting to the side to steal another kiss, just in case.
Their muscles ached and pleaded for relief, eventually granted as Reiner slowly pulled out and let Jean use him to steady himself on two feet. Some kind of tension hung between them, unsure of how to move or even what to do. Should they act as if nothing happened? Move on and hope maybe another opportunity like this arises in the future? Neither of them knew and it was apparent the way they stood in front of each other, naked, sweaty and out of breath.
“Uh,” Jean voiced, scratching the back of his head to kill some of the awkwardness. Reiner doubled over in a laugh and Jean took mild offense, scrunching his nose and frowning. “What?”
“Nothing, you’re so awkward.” His laughter dying down, sniffling with his entire body.
“Well, we just, fucked. What does that mean?”
Reiner laughed again and now Jean was really offended.
“Yeah we did, what about it?” So nonchalant about it all. Maybe Jean was reading too much into it and should instead find the delight that Reiner currently had. And he did, laughing heartily and shoving him in the shoulder, not caring how soft his expression turned.
“Still need to shower.” Pointing out, reminded by the spray from the one he started before all of this. An eyebrow cocked high on Reiner’s face, nodding in agreement.
“Can I join you?”
“Sure, I can find a way to sooth the defeat for you, if you want.” Winking to the man and stepping out of his way and to the shower, knowing his eagerness that masked his undeniable greed would prompt him to follow, just to figure out what else they could get into. Alone.