#osws fandom challenge

[niemernuet]

A little oneshot that I've been chipping away for this weeks' osws fandom challenge for the prompt

❄️ Fake Relationship ❄️

Justiel, set somewhere after Justin's second knee injury.

Rating: M characters: Daniel Yule, Justin Murisier, Luca Aerni, Marc Rochat, Ramon Zenhäusern, Matteo Joris, Nicola Macron, OC length: 4'000 words

The training went well, the coach was in a good mood the entire morning, the weather promised to deliver another flawless summer day, and when the cardio coach announced that they would have the afternoon off, everyone should have cheered. The rejoicing was subdued though because a mysterious cloud hung over the group that cast a dark shadow over all of them. On the long gondola-ride down into the valley, Justin could not hold back any longer. He poked Daniel in the ribs with his elbows.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing!" Daniel snapped, and moved away as far as the narrow bench, and Ramon occupying the remaining space, allowed.

"Yeah, sure," Marc said from the opposite bench, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "That's why you've been in such a sunny mood the entire morning."

"I am not in a bad mood!" Daniel exclaimed angrily, his voice getting louder the higher Marc's eyebrows rose over his forehead.

"You have been snippy since we left the house," Luca threw in.

"You almost kicked a tourist up there," Ramon added, and nodded towards the mountain station that gradually became smaller and smaller in their field of vision.

"He was cutting in line!" Daniel yelled. "Just because you've travelled ten thousand kilometres and have one day to see Zermatt, Lucerne and Zurich doesn't mean you can just do as you please! This is…"

"Daniel!" Justin barked, and Daniel pressed his lips together. His furious glare crumbled like the snow on the glacier once he met Justin's eyes, and with a groan he let his head fall back against the scratched glass of the gondola.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"What is it?" Luca asked. "We can help you."

Daniel laughed joylessly, his eyes closed. "No, you can't. Not with this."

"Try us," Marc said.

For a moment, Daniel remained motionless. "We're going to Scotland for Grandpa's 75th in two days."

"And you…don't want to go?" Ramon asked when he would not continue.

Daniel shook his head. "I want to go but things have become so awkward since…since his neighbour got it in her head that she has to set me up with one of her grandchildren."

With a sigh, he sat up straight again, and stared gloomily on his feet while the rest of the people in the gondola tried to process his words.

"Does she know you're…" Luca began but petered off.

"It's her grandson," Daniel explained.

"So just tell her you're not interested," Justin said, and made Daniel laugh again.

"Wish it were so easy." He sighed again, and after a short hesitation added. "Because he is interested."

He looked up into the faces of his sympathetic yet also barely comprehending friends, and finally his desperation burst out of him. "He's fucking interested and he just can. Not. Take. A. Fucking. Hint! It's all 'oh, you see, at St. Andrews where I study…' and 'at St. Andrews we always do blah blah…' and 'My mates from St. Andrews and I love to go skiing in Courchevel. The French Alps are just so blah blah…" and every word out of his mouth just makes me want to vomit. I'm trying to be considerate and sensitive because my grandparents have been living next to them for the past fifty years, and they like their neighbours and I don't want to make things awkward for them but their grandson is just such a bloody bell end. And the worst of all is that you can't take one step up there without the old biddy knowing about it so as soon as I arrive on Grandpa's door step she'll call him."

Silence fell after that anguished declaration. It was Justin who broke it.

"That's it?"

Daniel's head whipped around. Justin's smile turned into a laugh when he saw the outrage on Daniel's face.

"I thought it was something serious, like an injury," he said while he pulled his phone out of his backpack. "Or that you want to retire."

He handed his phone over to Marc, and threw his arm over Daniel's shoulder. Marc understood him without words, and snapped a row of pictures of Justin grabbing Daniel's head, and putting their foreheads together.

"What the hell?" Daniel exclaimed.

Justin let go, and turned his face towards Marc. "Smile!" he ordered, and rested his head on Daniel's shoulder.

"And?" he asked Marc.

Marc shrugged, and flipped through the pictures. "He didn't smile but I think it just makes it better. It looks like he didn't know the camera was on him." He handed the phone back to Justin who mustered the pictures with a satisfied nod.

"Congratulations," he then said, and grinned at Daniel. "You now have a boyfriend."

"What?" Daniel repeated helplessly. "No, that's not…"

"It's genius!" Luca threw in.

"Thank you," Justin said, still grinning. He typed away on his phone, and shortly afterwards, Daniel's own gadget vibrated in his pocket.

"You can put one of the pictures as your home screen. When he asks you say we're keeping it low-key for the time being."

"Tell him you fell in love with a handsome country boy from another valley but his family doesn't accept you so you have to keep it secret," Luca threw in.

"Or you can say I just don't want to shout it from the rooftops yet," Justin said, and pointedly stared at Luca.

"Tell him they're savages in Val de Bagnes," Marc added. "Barely human. But you can't help yourself, the sex is simply mind-blowing."

"Excuse me!" Justin yelled.

"Tell him you bet you can't find a country boy like that at St. Andrews," Ramon said, and they laughed when Justin threw up his hands.

"Guys!" Daniel spoke up. "I can't…" He was interrupted by the telltale rattling that announced the entrance to the valley station.

"Hold that thought!," Marc grinned, grabbed his things, and jumped out while the doors were still swinging open.

They lugged their skis and material through the crowds of tourists and back to the house where they had spent the past week. Putting everything away took its time, and when Daniel had all his skis lined up the way Nicola liked it, and hanged the inside of his ski boots out to dry, and stuffed his suit and the jacket into the wardrobe, the others had long left for their own rooms. He smiled when he opened the message from Justin with the two pictures, and sank down on the edge of his bed. Justin found him like that when he came crashing through the door, and unceremonisouly dropped his things on his own bed.

"And you don't mind…" Daniel asked without looking away from the picture. It really was a lucky shot, Daniel's wide-open eyes hidden by Justin's hand, and his surprised exclamation frozen to something that seemed like a laugh as Justin came in for a kiss.

"Of course not!" Justin panted, and kicked the shells of his ski boots under his bed. "I wouldn't have done it otherwise."

Daniel hummed, and switched to the other photo. Indeed, it looked as if Daniel was staring out of the window on the other side of the gondola, and not at Marc, his confused expression making him look as if he was deeply lost in his thoughts.

"I don't plan on ever going to Scotland," Justin said as he plopped down next to Daniel. "And I don't think you'll ever invite him here, so we're safe." He chuckled as he looked at the picture. "I make a great pretend-boyfriend."

Daniel snorted though he could not hide the fond smile washing over his face. "Don't flatter yourself."

"I do!" Justin exclaimed, and stood up again. He walked to his suitcase next to his bed, its contents spilling out on all sides. "I am funny, easy-going, romantic…what else?"

"You snore and you leave your stuff scattered all over the room," Daniel added.

"You love that about me," Justin retorted, grabbed his towel, and disappeared in the bathroom.

-----

The hottest weeks of summer passed, and with the first gust of autumn winds, the unending river of tourists pouring down on Zermatt died down to a trickle. Their absence finally left enough space in the restaurant at the top of the mountain for all the groups using the glacier as training ground and, as always, Marc and Luca had managed to snag the one with the best view. Justin joined them with a cup of coffee, and with a contended sigh sank down in a free chair. Training had picked up speed, the new season was fast approaching, and the coaches became sterner with every day.

"When will it end?" Luca muttered, his head resting on a bunched-up sweater.

"You tell me," Justin said as Daniel sank down next to him. "I have to do something. The coach's jokes about me changing the group are getting less and less funny. I don't want to leave! And he wants to send me to the giant-slalom-group of all things! Can you imagine having to train day in day out with that uppity Caviezel? Also I've heard they want to send the snooty brat from Hérèmence too. No thanks."

"Eh, Loïc's nice," Marc threw in. "He's just shy. And you're not exactly helping him come out of his shell."

"Snooty," Justin muttered in his cup before he turned his head to Daniel. "Anyway, I don't want to leave you guys. I love it here and…" He broke off. Daniel sat unblinking, his face white as a sheet. When he realised that everyone was staring at him, he flinched, and jumped up again.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" he muttered, and clamped his hand into Justin's shoulder. With a confused look back to their friends, Justin put the cup down, and followed Daniel into the hallway towards the souvenir shop and the gondolas.

"What's wrong?" he asked while Daniel restlessly paced up and down on the sturdy felt carpet.

"He's coming here," Daniel blurted out, and wrung his hands.

Justin frowned, and pressed against the wall to make space for Daniel pacing in front of him. "Who?"

"The guy!" Daniel exclaimed, and finally stopped. "Grandpa's neighbour's grandson! He…" Here Daniel gestured quotation marks into the air, "…convinced his mates from St. Andrews to come to Zermatt instead of Courchevel for a fun weekend before the start of the new semester."

Justin burst out laughing but Daniel was still in utter distress, and began to pace again.

"He wants to go for a pint with us. I don't want to go for a fucking pint! Not with him!"

"Daniel, that's no problem," Justin said, and grabbed him by the shoulder. "How often do you see couples over the age of 16 make out in broad daylight? It'll be the easiest thing to keep this up. All we have to do is sit next to each other, touch each other's arm once or twice, maybe call each other Honey Bear or Poulette, and we'll be fine."

"I can't keep going on with this," Daniel muttered, and stared into the distance. "I'll have to come clean; tell him I don't fancy him at all."

"What? And risk the good relationship between your grandparents and their neighbours?" Justin laughed. "It's our duty to…"

"I wrote to him that we broke up."

Justin's laugh fell, just like his hand from Daniel's shoulder.

"This was insane from the beginning!" Daniel spat, and tore his fingers through his hair. "What if someone from our team sees us in the pub and comes over? Or really just anyone who trains next to us on the snow? Back in Scotland I told him we're fresh, not even my own family knows about it, because what if he had talked to them? Or to his grandmother who would have told my Grandpa who would have told her that he doesn't know anything about a boyfriend?" He stared at Justin but he was too focused on his ski boots all of a sudden.

"I'll just tell him I don't like him in that way, and whatever happens in Scotland, happens. I don't care."

Justin's chest heaved with a short snort.

"You won't meet him," Daniel continued, "not if I can help it. But if you should cross him in the unlikeliest situation, just tell him we didn't pan out. Don't invent stuff, just…don't. Please."

"We just weren't meant to be," Justin said flatly. He smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. "Shit happens."

Daniel exhaled, and closed his eyes for a second. He tried to meet Justin's eyes. "Exactly. I'm glad you understand."

Justin nodded, and pushed away from the wall. "Of course. We should go, the break's over."

-----

The snow kept its form longer this time of the year, and did not turn into unskiable sludge like during the height of summer. The coaches had left the course from the morning to simulate a worn-out track, and one after the other the athletes hurtled down the slope. A small patch of the mountainside was fenced off. It was reserved for the first winter tourists, and amateurs of all skill-levels pushed the soft snow downwards. A handful of them always lingered near the fence, watching the pros at work. At first, nobody took any heed when another group stopped by, only when they started to hoot and cheer did they turn their heads. Their ski outfits were top of the line and pristine, their faces young and forgettable.

"Oh god, just kill me now," Daniel muttered, stepped into the pair of skis Nicola had prepared, and slid away towards the group.

"What?" Nicola asked into the air.

"Old…acquaintances from Scotland," Justin explained.

"He better acquaints himself with the course soon unless he wants to walk down to Zermatt," Matteo grumbled as he fiddled with the radio strapped to his chest.

“I’ll go first,” Justin said, and lined up at the start gate.

They practiced until the sun started to sink towards the mountain peaks. The group from before had long since moved onto the patio of the restaurant, and had watched them from above.

“We’re going for a beer first before we’re going down,” Luca said to Justin while they finished putting together their things. “Should I order one for you too?”

Justin shut his backpack, and threw it over his shoulder. He shook his head. "I don't feel so well. I'll see you back at the house."

"Okay…" Luca said with a frown, and watched as Justin walked through the turnstile. Only a few people were standing in line, which only existed because nobody felt like sharing a gondola. Justin also stayed put while the couple ahead of him entered their cabin, even though there would have been more than enough space for him. Nobody except Daniel took notice of the man with the eye-wateringly expensive skis coming from the restaurant, and slipping past the queue.

"No no no!" Daniel yelled, and dropped the pair of skis he had in his hands, grabbed his jacket, and sprinted towards the turnstiles. "Dave, wait!"

Justin was too busy with his bags and backpack, and only realised that he was not alone in the gondola when the man was already sitting on the opposite bench. Daniel ran past the queue and the flimsy barrier separating the people from the exit ramp, and slipped in at the last second before the doors shut, and the gondola bolted out of the mountain station. For the first few seconds, while they were still rattling over the masts, only Daniel's gasps filled the silence. Justin stared at the guy with a blank look while he seemed very pleased himself. Daniel, meanwhile, looked miserable.

"I'm sorry for butting in like that," the guy eventually began, with a grin that showed he was not. He held out his hand to Justin. "I'm Dave."

Justin looked at the hand, and back at Dave without moving one muscle. "Daniel's grandfather's neighbour's grandson who studies at St. Andrews," he said.

Dave laughed, and dropped his hand back into his lap. His ski trousers and ski jacket were brand new. "The one and only."

Neither Daniel nor Justin said anything but Dave was not bothered in the least.

"I could convince my mates to change up our usual pre-semester trip," he explained. "Something different for once. It's not quite like Ibiza but almost. I guess that means we'll have to go somewhere warm for New Year's," he mused, and looked out of the window. "Maybe the Caribbean? Though everyone always loves Courchevel…" Slowly they crossed the tree line, and scraggly firs started to spring out of the ground.

With a shrug, Dave came back from his thoughts, and grinned at Justin again. "It's fun, I mean, getting out of the usual rut for once. And even more fun when it means I get to see Daniel." Here he winked, and stared at Daniel until he pulled his lips into a thin smile. Then, Dave turned to Justin. "But now I also get the chance to tell you what a bloody idiot you are."

Justin slowly cocked his head. That and a slight frown was the only indication that he had listened.

"He's just joking," Daniel pressed through clenched teeth.

"I'm not!" Dave laughed. "Do you know how many words Dan used to speak to me before he met you? It was like trying to communicate with a tree. A handsome, handsome tree." He let out an exaggerated sigh as he looked at Dan. "But then I ask one little question about the picture on his phone, out of politeness, I might say, and all of a sudden I can't get him to shut up anymore."

"I was drunk…" Daniel interjected, his cheek glowing bright red.

"It was early afternoon," Dave corrected. "And I learnt more about motocross than I ever cared to know in my whole life. Also I'm happy your knee is okay again, and also that your sister found another job, and…" He leant forward, and mustered Justin's face intently. "Yeah, those are grey. But not that pretty, no offence. I mean, if you're into that…"

Justin barely acknowledged him, his gaze locked in on Daniel who was leaning his head on the scratched window with his eyes closed.

"So imagine my surprise when I come here and learn that you broke up with him. I…"

"It was mutual."

Dave paused, and stared at Justin with a surprised expression.

"I didn't break up with him. We both agreed it's just not the right thing," Justin said softly, and looked at Dave.

As if he was finally realising the tense situation in the cramped gondola, Dave's eyebrows shot up. A short frown flickered over his face before it was hidden under another grin. He turned to Daniel again.

"All the better that I'm here now, right? I'm at the Cervo, we could take our pint at…"

Justin did not let him finish. "You could take a hint, for one."

Dave's glare was now unmistakably hostile but Justin still was unbothered, even as the silence stretched uncomfortably long, and only ended when the gondola suddenly sagged a little before dashing into the valley station.

"I'll write to you," Dave said to Daniel, and with one last, withering look to Justin climbed out.

Daniel and Justin followed him outside, and watched him trot away without sparing them another glance, his skis dangling against his leg. When he had turned the corner, Justin adjusted the straps of the heavy backpack, and lifted one pair of the skis on his shoulders.

"I've forgot my stuff up there," Daniel said, trying to fill the heavy silence. "I'll just…"

He broke off as Justin turned away wordlessly, and walked away.

"Justin!" Daniel said with rising desperation but Justin ignored him.

-----

Marc, Luca, and Ramon were lounging on the patio of their chalet when Daniel returned from his trip back to the glacier. The sun was setting in earnest behind the mountains now, and a cool breeze carried the first signs of the coming winter down the golden hillsides.

"Why is Justin sulking in his room?" Luca asked through the open door, and grabbed a handful of peanuts from a bowl in the middle of the table.

With hanging shoulders, Daniel walked through the living room towards the hallway. "I'll talk to him," he muttered.

"Dinner's ready in twenty minutes," Marc yelled as Daniel disappeared through one of the doors.

With his last strength he carried his stuff through the room, and dropped everything on the ground in front of his suitcase. Justin sat on his bed with his back to the wall, scrolling through his phone. Without a word Daniel shrugged out of his jacket and ski trousers, grabbed a towel, and walked to the bathroom. He stooped, the door in his hand, took a deep breath, and turned around.

His voice was brittle. "I'm sorry," he said. "About…everything. I should have shut this down way earlier, not…" He broke off, and took a deep breath. "Look, whatever you're thinking now, I don't want things to change between us. My feelings for you are my problem alone. It won't change how I…your friendship is too important to me and I'd never do anything to threaten it. So…yeah." He shrugged, and quickly fled into the bathroom but he had no chance to turn the key as the door was roughly pulled out of his hand again. Daniel flinched back, at the sight of Justin blocking the entire door , effectively locking him in the windowless room.

Justin did not move or speak, only stared at Daniel, and quickly he wiped over his cheeks. Justin kept staring even as Daniel helplessly stared back, until he finally gathered all his remaining little courage so he could look him in the eye. His breath hitched when he saw those bright, grey eyes lingering on him.

Lingering.

Tears swimming.

Daniel's shoulders slumped.

"Oh."

Justin laughed, and before Daniel could move, had him wrapped in a painfully tight hug.

"Oh…" Daniel sighed again as he clung to Justin like a drowning man.

"Yeah," Justin laughed, and noisily pulled up his nose.

“Why did you never say anything?”

“I didn’t want to lose you too,” Justin rasped. “Duh.”

Daniel laughed. Hugging Justin was not new, and yet it was, and he never wanted to let go of him anymore.

“We can never tell the others,” he said, and they both laughed again.

“Luca will never let us hear the end,” Justin muttered. “He will be insufferable.”

Slowly, Daniel released his grip around Justin until he could look at him. His head spun madly when Justin closed the gap for a kiss, and when he remembered that from now on, he could do it whenever he wanted, he laughed again.

“I felt like crying when you broke up our fake relationship,” Justin confessed, and a soft blush crept over his cheeks.

"I was sure you'd forgotten about it," Daniel whispered.

Justin shook his head. “But when that moron told that story…”

Daniel groaned, and leant his forehead against Justin’s shoulder. “You know the worst thing? I really was drunk.”

Justin burst out laughing. “In the middle of the day?”

Daniel sighed. “It was the last lunch, and Grandpa had pulled out his entire Whisky-collection for a tasting. I was just trying to get sober again in the garden when he came over…god, just the memory...”

“Lightweight,” Justin teased.

“Am not!” Daniel exclaimed, and pushed Justin off. “You have no idea how big Grandpa’s collection is!”

Justin grinned, and kissed him again.

[oswsfandomchallenge]

We're almost there, and for our second to last prompt, we've thought of something special. We've brought you the classics, now we're bringing you a new spin on one:

prompt #15:

❄️ Last Kiss ❄️

[merlesrandomstuff]

OSWS Challenge - Sports mashup

Skijumping meets nordic combined

words: 1120

characters: Jiri Konvalinka, Kasperi Valto, Vilho Palosaari, Niko Kytosaho, Radek Rydl

pairing: Jiri Konvalinka x Kasperi Valto

"We're heading to the hill now. The reception has the spare keycard." Jiri read Vilho's message over and over, still unable to process what he was about to do. "Thank you." answered Jiri and left the car he was hiding in for 2h now. He quickly grabbed his stuff and almost ran into the hotel. "I need the keycard for room 170." he said to the receptionist. "Ah you are the friend of the guys from finland?" the receptionist asked. "Yes, yes I am." he answered. "Here's the card." said the receptionist and handed the card over. Jiri smiled, took the card, grabbed his suitcase and walked up the stairs to the first floor.

Arrived on the right floor, he met Radek. "If you want to go to the hill together with the team, you need to be ready soon." said Radek. "I will be." answered Jiri. Jiri opened the room and dropped his suitcase. He put his hoodie back on and took his backpack, before again leaving the room. Jiri stood around, waiting for his teammates. As soon as all of them were ready, they sat down in the bus. Jiri started to nervously fingertap his legs. "Nervous?" asked Radek. Jiri nodded. "But just a little."

At the hill, Jiri put his hood on and immediately went past everyone and was able to reach the crowd unnoticed by Kasperi. He sat down on the ground for a moment. Calming himself down. He was here, finally able to watch his boyfriend jump again. Lahti had been the last time they saw eachother jump as well it had been the first time seeing eachother after they confessed their love to eachother.

During trial round, Jiri cheered for both the czech and finnish team, but tried to remain as unnoticed as possible. During Kasperi's jump he tried to stay calm, but had to smile brightly. This was his boyfriend and the jump looked promising.

As soon as the first round was about to start, he started to get nervous, because meeting Kasperi was just 16 jumpers away. He was scared that Kasperi wouldn't be happy, but on the other hand, he doubted that this was even possible. In his spiral of thoughts Jiri missed a few jumpers, but started to cheer for everyone, but especially his fellow countrymen and Hector. Right before the jumper who started before Kasperi was starting, Jiri went to the changing zone next to the outrun, but hid behind a wall so that Kasperi wouldn't notice him that fast. When Kasperi jumped, Jiri was stressed but screamed a little, because the jump went so well. "Amazing." he thought and watched Kasperi, leaving the outrun, putting his skies down and starting to get changed.

As Kasperi looked ready, Jiri silently walked towards him and covered Kasperi's eyes with his hands. Kasperi froze and didn't move for a moment. "Ji- ji- Jiri?" he asked. Jiri laughed a little, put his hands down and turned Kasperi around. "Yes, here I am." he said and smiled brightly. Kasperi looked at him with wide eyes, too stunned to speak.

"How? What are you doing here?" Kasperi asked and smiled. Jiri smiled back. "Decided to support my boyfriend at such big event." he whispered and wrapped an arm around Kasperi.

Kasperi grabbed his stuff and pulled Jiri around until they reached the team space from team Finland. "What are we doing here?" asked Jiri with a little confusion. Kasperi smiled, put down his stuff, wrapped his arms around Jiri and kissed him passionately.

"I missed you." said Kasperi and caressed Jiri's cheek. "I missed you too. That's why I made this work." said Jiri and smiled. "Didn't you say there was training to do?" asked Kasperi. "There is. But can do it everywhere. And additionally, I told you, because I wanted this surprise to work." said Jiri. "But you would have missed the normal hill comp." said Kasperi. Jiri nodded. "Yes, but now I'm glad I won't." he answered. Kasperi smiled and wrapped his arms around Jiri. "Let's go back, before the others are looking for me." he said and kissed Jiri again. Jiri kissed Kasperi back and smiled into the kiss. "As long as it's your team or team Czechia they'd look for both of us." Jiri said and laughed a little. "They know?" asked Kasperi. Jiri nodded. "Wouldn't have been possible without them knowing. And I had to promise the coaches to train with our team." he said. "So they accept us?" asked Kasperi. "I mean, I didn't really tell the czech team, but I guess they are able to put two and two together and as far as I know, they don't care about it." answered Jiri and smiled. "Good, let's go now."

When they came back, they met Vilho. "Kasperi, you have to get ready for second round." he said and smiled brightly. Kasperi looked at him in shock. "I made it?" he asked. Vilho nodded. "Team Finland will likely completely end up in second round." said Jiri, looking at the liveticker. Kasperi still couldn't believe it. He would be in a second round and will jump, again watched by his boyfriend.

After some time, Kasperi found himself back on the bakken, ready to jump. Jiri was looking up, rooting for Kasperi and hoping for another great jump. Jiri jumped up and down and cheered when Kasperi landed. He was incredibly proud of his boyfriend, no matter the end result.

As soon as Kasperi was able to go to Jiri, he almost ran over to him and smiled. Jiri smiled back and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. "I'm so proud of you." said Jiri. Kasperi smiled and wrapped his arms around Jiri. "I'm happy that you are here." said Kasperi.

Suddenly Niko appeared and smiled. "Do you want to occupy the team room? Otherwise I'll go there now." he said and smirked. Jiri and Kasperi grinned and walked to the team room without attracting to much attention. Niko just looked after the boys and laughed. The similarities to other couples in skijumping world were real.

Back in the team room, Kasperi pulled Jiri closer and kissed him with passion. Jiri smiled into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Kasperi. Their hearts were beating in unison and Kasperi felt like the world stood still.

Hours later, they both lied in Kasperi's bed and cuddled, silently admiring the presence of the other. "I couldn't think of anything better than being with you and having you cheer for me." said Kasperi and kissed Jiri's cheek. "I love you. And I'll never stop cheering for you." said Jiri and placed one hand at Kasperi's cheek. "I love you too." said Kasperi and kissed Jiri passionately.

[ticiie]

week 3: (missed) late night calls

prompt from the off-season winter sport fandom challange

characters: Nico Hischier, Jonas Siegenthaler, Jack Hughes (mentioned), Dougie Hamilton (mentioned)

length: 795 words

author's note: once again had to adjust the prompt because it was giving me 💫nothing💫 also as much as i want switzerland to do well at the upcoming iihf worlds, i kinda don't want to see any of the devils there because i want them to win the cup even more? sue me. so here goes nothing

The silence which had settled in the bus was filled with a tension that was almost graspable. Most of the players were trying to distract themselves by listening to music or scrolling through their phones. Nico, who was sitting next to Jonas in the back of the bus, had his head rested against the window. His level of adrenaline was still low enough to make him drowse off every now and then and since traffic was making a fool of them at the moment anyway, he might as well use the time efficiently. Jonas, on the other hand, felt his heart beating in his throat already. Not to be dramatic but the amount of blood, sweat and yes, even tears, it had taken them all to get here tonight was far beyond anything he could’ve ever imagined. It would all come to an end tonight and Jonas was trying to not imagine what would happen if they lost in tonight’s final. There was no sense in worrying about the outcome, never had been, yet his brain was running on full speed, his chest felt tight all of a sudden, and why was it so hot in here, had somebody turned on the heating? Jonas was pulling at the collar of his button down. An unpleasant tingle started to rise from somewhere near his stomach into his limbs. Only when Nico placed his hand above Jonas’ which he had clenched around the handle that was fixed to the backrest of the seat in front of him, he felt the flurry easing off little by little.

“Breathe,” Nico said, his voice as calm as always. Jonas did as he was told. They locked eyes, their fingers intertwined, pulling each other back up to the surface. The panic passed almost as quickly as it came and Jonas’ heartbeat slowed down to a healthier rhythm again. Nico didn’t let go of his hand though, not even as he pulled out his phone and showed Jonas a picture that had just reached both their and also Timo’s and Akira’s phone. It was most of their other team, and they were all wearing red-and-white jerseys that said “Swiss devils” giving the camera thumbs up and bright smiles. Jack had captioned the picture “GO WOLF PACK” and Jonas smiled. “I guess he’s not angry at us anymore then?” he asked.

“He told me how he’d much rather get kicked out by us than having to watch Sweden winning yet another time.”

“So, no pressure at all,” Jonas mumbled and Nico laughed softly. He pulled Jonas’ hand towards him and placed a small kiss on the older one’s knuckles. “We’ll be okay.” It was more of a promise than anything else and Jonas wanted nothing more in the world than to believe it and especially the person rewarding it to him.

What happened then was the stuff that dreams were made of. Until this night, Nico had never seen their head-coach cry but when Patrick was handed the trophy, his face was covered in tears and the sight of it alone was enough for a sob to escape Nico's throat. It took them half an eternity to get from the ice to the mixed zone let alone back into the changing room. Nico was the last player to reach it. He had lost complete track of time. The mood was incomparable to what it had been like this afternoon, loud music, shouts, and laughter were filling the cabin, someone had organised beer and pizza and the trophy was still going its rounds from hand to hand. It was simply impossible to describe the pure joy that was soaring through Jonas’ body. And when Nico entered the changing room, exhausted but happy, his heart started doing the sort of flips he had gotten addicted to over the years.

By the time Jonas got to check his phone again, the clock on the display told him it was past 3am. His intoxicated brain didn’t progress this information at all, along with the fact that apparently, Jonas had missed two dozen calls and was left with nearly one hundred unread messages. The only one that mattered though was one from Hamilton that had arrived only a few minutes ago. It was a picture he obviously had taken from a TV-screen, frozen at the very moment when Jonas and Nico had reached each other after the final siren that had announced their victory. One could barely tell where Nico started and Jonas ended and all Hamilton had to say about it was a short “idiots in love. Congrats.” Jonas grinned into his phone like an utter goofball as he set the picture as his lock screen-wallpaper. The night was mild, a soft breeze was rushing through Jonas’ hair and he exhaled in relief.

[motivated-girl-t]

hi, here is my contribution for OSWS fandom challenge week #3 (going for a hike) and yes i know they are not exactly going on a hike, but oh well they are at least walking.... hope you enjoy!!!

[ciestessde]

Danny Fenton, Substitute Soul Reaper: Whatever Lies Beyond

A self-explanatory request from an Anon on Tumblr: Danny becomes a substitute soul reaper.

“Dear Daniel,

There is something I need your help to accomplish. Please go through the door you’ll find at the location written below. Make sure you are in your human form.

Thank you for your continued assistance.

- Clockwork

P.S. Make sure you pay Ghost Writer a visit first, or things could get especially confusing. He’ll be expecting you.”

“… Well that’s not a door you see everyday.” Danny had, of course, done as Clockwork asked. (Did he really have a choice?)

Ghost Writer had just done… something? to him – some sort of spell, he thought – and sent him on his way. And this door(?) had appeared right after he arrived at the location – which was so far away, it had come with instructions on which OTHER portals to fly through in order to reach it!

… It looked like an unzipped zipper – or a mouth.

‘*sigh* I could spend all day floating here, or just get this over with.’ Prepared for whatever was beyond the portal – which could be literally anything – Danny flew through.

… He was not prepared to find a man bleeding out inside a cave. More than that, the air there felt… weird. Similar to being in the Ghost Zone, but more… raw? Wild? … Desperate. Sad, even.

The man had auburn hair, was dressed in some kind of robe and fur cape, was holding a katana, and was bleeding from what was definitely a fatal wound to his side. He was still conscious, judging by his wincing and shivering, but his eyes were closed in a grimace. He had a death grip on that katana.

Danny and the man jumped – something just screamed from outside the cave. Which meant the man noticed him.

He raised the katana slightly (he didn’t seem capable of raising it much further) and glared at Danny suspiciously. “Who are you? How’d you get here?” Although Danny understood what he’d said, the man was not speaking English. ‘Oh. So that’s what he did. Thanks, Writer.’ “I’m Danny. I came in through-” He turned to gesture to the portal – and it closed. “… Well, crud.”

There was a moment of silence as the man considered him. He looked scared, but not of Danny. Then, “… How… old are you… ?” “Uh, sixteen. Why?” He winced. “So young… But.” The man looked even more pained than before. He shifted to sit up straighter. “I suppose I don’t have a choice. Listen, boy-” “Danny.” “Danny. Do you want to live?”

“Uuuuh…” Danny broke eye contact nervously. The screams came from outside again; they were closer. He seemed to misunderstand Danny’s hesitation (‘Although, it’s not like he could guess.’), “Well?!” “Yessir!” “Then… come here.”

As Danny walked closer to him, the man, using the last of his strength, lifted his katana in front of him – and pointed it at Danny. It wasn’t exactly threatening, but it still made Danny a little nervous. “I don’t have time to explain completely, but… I can give you half of my power. It will only be temporary, and it might kill you. But right now it’s your only chance of making it out of here.” “Listen, I don’t nee-” “Grab the end of the sword!” “Right!” Danny yelped.

Carefully, Danny grabbed the blade of the katana. “In order to pass my powers on to you, you’ll have to run the zanpakutō through to the center of your being. Place it over your heart.”

‘Clockwork, you better know what you’re doing.’ He did as the man said – and placed the tip of the blade in front of his core.

“You said your name is Danny?” He nodded, “Danny Fenton.” The man locked eyes with him. “Danny Fenton. I am… Ashido Kanō.” And Ashido ran him through.

It took immense self-control for Danny not to turn intangible, at first. Then-

It couldn’t have been more different from the portal incident. Aside from the initial pain, it didn’t hurt at all. There was just a rush of energy, and suddenly he was in his ghost form. Except he… had a sword? And was wearing the same kind of robes as the- as Ashido.

“Wh-?” Ashido looked very confused. “All my power…” Danny blinked at him. His outfit had changed. His robes were completely white now, and there seemed to be less of them. … Had he stolen the guy’s clothes???

“You… aren’t human.” Danny rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, no. That’s… what I was trying to tell you.” “…” Ashido’s eyes lit up. He thought for a moment. “Danny… *cough*!” “Woah!” Danny rushed forward as Ashido collapsed.

“Not much time…” Ashido looked up and locked eyes with him again. “If you make it out of here… There’s a group of friends. They’re trying to save someone, but… The beings they’re up against… are far more powerful than what you’ll face outside this cave.”

Ashido grabbed his collar. “Please… I know you have no reason to, but… Please… Help them… Like they helped me. So that, maybe…” Ashido’s eyes lost their focus, and his grip loosened. “I’ll have repaid them… in some way…” Ashido collapsed after that.

‘… He’s… dead…’

Carefully, his hands shaking, Danny lowered Ashido’s body. The screams were right outside the cave entrance now.

“Jeez… You didn’t need to ask. Of course I’ll help them.” His voice shook – he was crying. “That’s the whole reason I’m here!”

Turning to the world outside the cave, Danny prepared himself for whatever was beyond it – which could be literally anything-

-and flew through.

~~~~~

Chapter 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

EVENT ANNOUNCEMENT!

“Halloween SOSW”

Halloween is approaching, and I want to do something special. So I’m trying out what I’m calling “Special One-Shot Wednesdays” or SOSWs (pun very intended). If you have any ideas you want to see me write for the Spoopy Season that you don’t think will make it into a normal OSW, or any ideas you don’t think will make it into the OSWs at all, send them in for an SOSW.

I will include as many ideas as I can. NO LIMITS. GO WILD. Make my life a living hell. Give me your most obscure, forgotten, no-content fandom; your “no one will ever vote for this” request! GIVE ME ALL THE SPOOPIES! And it will be my personal challenge to write something even remotely coherent that honors each and every request.

Will I succeed? We’ll see. Will I get any SOSW requests at all? GOD I HOPE SO.

You can send the SOSW requests through the normal channels (make sure to say it’s for the SOSW), OR I have a spot on the current poll you can type it into. Either works.

Ok, back to the normal AN!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you liked this, please REBLOG!

AO3 version

OSWs Master List

{This is part of my “OneShot Wednesday” project - I’m trying to write a one-shot every week that other people have requested! Original Requests one week, and Fanfic Requests the next.

You can vote for the next OSW here until Oct. 9th, or find the current poll on my Tumblr, Twitter, or Website!

While I will try to keep track of all the requests I receive regardless of how they’re sent, you should send Fanfic Requests through the pinned tweet on my Twitter, and Original Requests through either my email (CiestessDE@gmail.com) or my Patreon (if you’re a patron) if you want to make sure I see them.

Just about everything goes – I’ll tell you if there’s a problem. But if you want to know more about how they work, you can read about Original OSWs here, and Fanfic OSWs here.

So please send me ALL the ideas!!! I will make sure to recognize whoever’s idea/request it was in the work – just ask if you want to remain anonymous.}

[oswsfandomchallenge]

OSWS finale - can you believe it?! It's time (or almost time) for our favourite sports to start into a new season and it's time for OSWS to go back into hiatus until next year. Out we go with a bang and our last prompt!

prompt #16:

❄️ New beginnings ❄️

Big thanks to everyone who participated. It's been an absolute blast 💜

[niemernuet]

I like to think that this was the moment they decided to unravel that awkward lad later that night. ♥️ Many thanks to the best in the world @wunderlichkind for the inspiration. I hope it's about what you wanted (even if a bit late. and a bit short (in my defence it's really hard to write one-handed))

Also seeing as there is no fic with that pairing so far (I think...) it even fits in this week's osws fandom challenge's subject "rarepairs". 💪🏼

In Andorra

rating: E pairing: Mikaela Shiffrin/Aleksander Aamodt Kilde/Marco Odermatt characters: Mikaela Shiffrin, Aleksander Aamodt Kilde, Marco Odermatt length: 750 words

"And do you…" Marco paused, and cleared his throat. It did not help though, his voice still did not sound as firm as he wished. Or as his dick was. "Do you do this often?"

He failed again at keeping control over himself, and let out a decidedly unmanly, high-pitched sigh when Aleks' soft lips and scratchy stubble left the crook of his thigh.

"Generally, yeah," Aleks said slowly, and looked at Marco with a slight frown, as if he doubted his mental capacities. "We go to bed about once per day."

Marco laughed, and let his head fall back into the pillow. Aleks grinned, and though his lips were no longer on Marco, his hands were still stroking circles around his thighs and his achingly hard dick.

"That is a really personal question," Mika said before Marco could speak. She pulled her trousers over her bare feet, and folded them neatly before putting them down on a chair. "Or would you like us to ask you about your party last year?"

Marco felt Aleks' chuckles more than he heard them. He glanced over to the small table pressed against the wall of the hotel room, and the assortment of big and small glass globes that tested its weight limits.

"We heard the stories…" Aleks added, and Mika giggled. The mattress dipped beneath Marco's legs as she sat down with her back to Aleks.

"That's good," Marco said with his eyes firmly closed, his head spinning from more than just alcohol. "In that case could you tell them to me? Because I don't remember a thing from that night."

Mika and Aleks laughed, and Marco gasped because something touched the tip of his dick leaking all over his stomach. With expert ease, Mika pulled the rubber over his shaft before straddling his hips. Marco bit down hard on his lips but the warmth of her skin on his thighs, on his hips, against his balls, was almost too much.

"I'm a bit busy right now," Mika said softly, and rocked the tiniest bit forward. Marco managed to reduce the shameless moan to a hum, though the force needed to keep his mouth shut made him fear for his jaw bone. His hands were hovering in the air, as if there was still any question left. Mika found it just as amusing, she laughed again when she grabbed them, and put them down on her hips. Her skin was hot and soft, and Marco could feel the muscles roll under his touch.

"Maybe Aleks could tell you," she whispered, and moved even further, rubbing her slick pussy against his erection.

The mattress dipped again, and Marco found himself face to face with him.

"Sorry, I can't either. I'm in a bit of a pickle to be honest." Aleks smiled at him, his head propped up on one arm. "Maybe you could help me?"

Nobody moved for a few heartbeats, as long as it took Marco to realise that he was expected to answer.

"Yeah," he rasped eventually. "Sure."

"Cool," Aleks chuckled, grabbed Marco's hand from Mika's hip, and wrapped it around his hard dick. With a contended smile he closed his eyes as Marco began to stroke him unprompted.

"That's better," he sighed.

“Queue-jumper!” Mika said, though her grin betrayed the fondness behind her words.

“Never!” Aleks answered, and pulled her down in a kiss. Mika broke away first, and pushed Aleks back into the mattress.

“We’re not finished,” she said, and tightened the straddle around Marco’s hips.

“I don’t want to interrupt your thing,” he moaned, holding onto Mika as if he was drowning.

Aleks settled again close to him, and ran his fingers over Marco’s chest. “Not at all. Do you mind if I watch?”

Marco laughed but it was cut short when Mika moved again, and the hot friction of her skin shot straight up his spine. “Fuck!”

Aleks’ fingers kept stroking his skin, across his chest and throat, until he was cupping his cheek. Marco sucked in air with ragged breaths, his whole body lit on fire by the touches of Mika and Aleks.

“Do you mind if I do this?” Aleks whispered, his breath hot against Marco’s lips, before he closed the gap between them, in the exact same second as Mika lined Marco up against her crack, and sank down. Aleks caught the obscene moans falling from Marco’s lips, and Mika leant hard against his arched chest, and neither of them showed any mercy as Marco fell to pieces in their hands.

[oswsfandomchallenge]

Here we go with prompt number ten! Can't wait to see what you've got 💜

prompt #10:

❄️ Apologies ❄️

[oswsfandomchallenge]

On to prompt number fourteen and another classic that we can never get enough of. We hope you have fun with it! 💜

prompt #14:

❄️ Only one bed ❄️

[oswsfandomchallenge]

We're back with another favourite prompt from last year! Be creative for this one, folks. Nothing is too out there, suspend the disbelief ✨

prompt #11:

❄️ The Rarepair Game: Create or write for a pairing that has barely even been thought of before ❄️

[niemernuet]

I missed most of all osws challenges so far but managed a little oneshot through the brainfog about Marco's slutty slutty golf shorts that he wore at the charity golf match.

Distraction

pairing: Moïc

The machine sputtered and hissed, then paused for a few heartbeats, and with new rumbling finally started to leak pitch-black liquid out of its orifices. It was early, and Loïc, still in nothing more than boxer briefs, stared at the coffee dripping into his cup as if it was responsible for all his life’s problems. He did not budge when a pair of strong arms wrapped around his chest from behind, and a warm body pressed against his back.

“It’s quite ironic that you of all people hate golf,” Marco muttered against Loïc’s skin.

Loïc was too stubborn to let go of his bad mood just yet, even though Marco could feel the shivers running through his body under his lips.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Marco shrugged. “You know, because of your whole lifestyle,” he answered, and with a soft bite into Loïc’s bare shoulder finally elicited a breathless laugh. “You like all the fine things in life, the more exclusive the better.”

Loïc snorted. He grabbed the tiny cup of black coffee, barely more than a thimble, and dropped it into a bigger mug.

“I like quality,” he explained, and shuffled one step over where he had prepared a small jug of milk. “I don’t see how that has to mean I have to love golf. Everything about it is a waste! A waste of time, a waste of space…” He broke off as he lifted the jug until a tap sticking out of the coffee machine disappeared in the milk, and with a flick of a button the machine started to hiss and yowl anew.

“We could go hiking today,” he said over the noise, and carefully observed the progress, “or biking, or go to the lake but no, we have to trot over a giant patch of dead grass all day. You know that nothing natural grows on a golf course? It’s all fake!” He silenced the machine, and examined the contents of the jug.

“I see I will have to work really hard today to make it worth your while,” Marco said, and grabbed the mug with the coffee from the other end of the machine. He held it steady while Loïc poured the now frothy milk into the coffee, and they watched as the colour turned from darkest black to a soft brown. Now free of Marco’s grasp, he could finally turn around, and look at him. He smiled as his eyes wandered from the white polo down to the grey shorts.

Very short grey shorts.

“I love those pants on you,” Loïc admitted.

“I know you do,” Marco said, and gave him a kiss.

Loïc smiled, though that smile fell when he tried to grab the cup out of Marco’s hand only to end up with a fist of empty air. He sighed when he looked into Marco’s unwavering smile.

“I made that for myself,” he whined. In response, Marco cocked his head, and stared at him with his saddest, most pitying look, his brows all furrowed over his big brown eyes.

With a groan, Loïc turned around again. “Damn you and your pants,” he muttered, and put the cup back under the machine.

“We both love you,” Marco laughed as he happily skipped away.

-----

The sun was already high above the mountains when they reached Crans-Montana, promising another beautiful summer day on that high plateau. Michelle held up one of the clubs she would play with today against the sky. Of course a place like Crans treated its rental material better than any old minigolf-place would but it did not hurt to check that everything was straight because even though today was for charity, she had no intention to lose. Or, at the least, come dead last. She stuffed the club back into the bag, and pulled out the next while another person stopped by her side.

“I must have missed something on the invitation,” she said as she held up the new club. “I didn’t know today’s dress code is Daisy Duke.”

“Oh, it didn’t say on yours,” Marco explained, “that’s only for those who can pull that look off.”

He grinned at her but also took a cautionary step back, out of her club’s reach.

Michelle grinned too, and put the iron into the bag. “You’re just hoping everyone’s going to stare at your ass so they don’t see you cheat.”

Marco shrugged. “Whatever helps you get over your imminent defeat.”

“As if!”

Joana’s clubs barely reached out of the trolley bag that she pulled along. “Well, at least we know who’s going to come last,” she said when she stopped next to Michelle and eyed up Marco. “Because the only hole Loïc will manage to hit today won’t be on the green.”

“I don’t listen to people who have to play with child-sized irons,” Marco shot back though it was barely audible over Michelle’s guffaws. A treacherous blush crept over his cheeks that was still there when Loïc joined them with Daniel in tow. A worried look washed over Loïc’s face when he saw his boyfriend.

“Did you forget your sunscreen?”, he asked softly.

Marco shook his head. “No, it’s not that,” he muttered, and glared at Michelle and Joana who were still giggling.

“Hey, remember that we’re here to collect money for Swiss Ski,” Daniel warned them. “Maybe if you ladies showed a bit more skin like Marco here…”

“You know how it is,” Marco said over the new laughter and gave them a pointed look, “some are working hard and some are hardly working.”

-----

Golf was serious business for Semyel, and with a grim look he stared ahead towards the hole, gauging the distance as well as the wind, while Marco was still busy setting up his tee.

“Maybe I should have chosen shorts too,” Semyel muttered to himself.

“How about you focus on your game?” Loïc said with obvious warning in his voice.

“I’d have freer movement…but on the other hand I’d cool down fast up here, so I might be at a disadvantage later in the game,” Semyel continued talking to himself. Marco winked at Loïc, and stood up again.

“I don’t think we can still catch up to you until the end,” he interrupted Semyel’s thoughts, and straightened his back. “So you’re all good.”

Semyel blinked, and looked between Loïc and Marco. “I’m not worried about you amateurs,” he said, and pointed towards the giant score board at the other end of the course, next to the club house. “Hintermann got ahead of me at the last hole! Fucker must have practiced.”

Loïc rolled his eyes, and Marco had to bite down on his lower lip.

“Well, this amateur here is quite happy with his choice of clothing,” he said, and lined his iron up against the tee. He took his time, taking a few steps back and forth to get into the best position, and with a short glance over his shoulder made sure he had all of Loïc’s attention.

“What are you doing?” Semyel asked, both incredulously and obliviously.

“Trying to find my position,” Marco answered, and stretched his left leg so Loïc could get a good look at his calf.

“By dancing polka?” Semyel exclaimed. “You’re standing all wrong!”

“I think he’s standing just right,” Loïc said without taking his eyes off Marco’s assets.

“Thank you,” Marco said, and smiled over his shoulder again.

Semyel groaned, and buried his face in his hands .”I know it’s just a charity match but they really have to put a maximum-handicap for participants in place.”

-----

The day ended with a dinner in the club house. Luca as the only local and Loïc as the, usually, one who Swiss Ski trusted to put his foot in his mouth the least had been volunteered to lead the award ceremony in front of all the generous donors.

Applause brandished through the airy hall as Semyel walked back to the table with his trophy, his cheeks as red as his beam was bright.

“But of course we don’t only hand out a prize for the best golfer overall,” Luca said, and walked back to the table where an array of trophies was waiting. On his way, he made sure to push his shoulder into Loïc’s.

“Care to help me one of these days?” he hissed, and picked up the next prize. “I don’t want to do this all alone.”

Loïc still stood frozen in place, his eyes fixated on something in the very back of the room. Luca followed his look, and his fake smile almost fell when he saw what occupied all of Loïc’s attention.

“Seriously?” he muttered without moving his lips. “Here?”

Loïc cleared his throat, grabbed the prize from Luca, and took a step forward. “Okay!” he began, and desperately tried to tear his eyes off Marco sitting at the table in the very back, his legs spread at an almost obscene angle.

“As Luca said we don’t just hand out one thigh…prize! This next one is for the best team, and let me tell you it was very thigh…I mean tight.”

At the other end of the room, Marco’s hand casually landed between his legs, and his already short pants hitched even higher, and even though Loïc was too far away to see he knew the dark patch of hair extending from under the fabric, and the bulge straining against it. Marco smiled at him, and Loïc’s head turned into a blank space.

“At first…at first…,” he began though the room suddenly lost all the air when Marco raised one arm to push his hair back, revealing a new sliver of skin between his shorts and the polo.

With a sigh, Luca pushed himself off the table, and grabbed the trophy from Loïc again.

[oswsfandomchallenge]

We're already halfway! Can you believe it? It's prompt number eight of sixteen and this one's a favourite from last year. We can't wait to see your take on it! 💜

prompt #8:

❄️ Sports Mash-Up: Combine any two or more sports blorbos of your choice ❄️

[niemernuet]

Small, painless oneshot for this weeks' off-season winter sports fandom challenge, inspired by Stefan Rogentin's first world-cup podium in the Super-G race in Wengen and Gilles Roulin who had exams one day after the downhill. And also by Gilles' sweet story on ig a few days ago. ♥️

The Tin Pitcher

pairing: Stefan Rogentin/Gilles Roulin characters: Stefan Rogentin, Gilles Roulin length: 1'400 words

The small village high above the valley is almost bursting at the seams, with people shuffling shoulder against shoulder through every street and alley, past bars and food stalls. Music blasts from seemingly every house but nowhere louder than on the village square. The ceremony has only just ended, and the crowds are still pressed against the fences, hoping for another picture or an autograph. Stefan can neither hide nor escape, even though he tries both. He barely catches a glance of the person at the far end of the square, the smile he would recognise in every crowd, before Mauro and Beat tackle him. His prize for the second place in the Super-G, an old fashioned tin pitcher, lies heavy in his hand as they escort him to the bar, all the while congratulating themselves on keeping him from sneaking away. The bar is on the roof of a hotel, not theirs though, and through the glaring, flickering lights shooting into the night Stefan can see the track winding around the mountain like a bow, waiting for the next race tomorrow. There is a lot to celebrate today, not just his very first podium in the World Cup or Odi's third place but also, more important than his achievements anyway, Mauro's and Beat's retirements. Still, his heart is not really in it, knowing what is happening at the same time somewhere down the road. He indulges them nonetheless, Mauro and Beat who refuse any nostalgia or sadness tonight, and Marco and Aleks who keep handing him one glass after the other that he discretely starts to dump into the giant pots of boxwood standing around the roof after a while. He manages his escape in the end, once Odi jumps on the bar and throws his shirt into the hollering crowd, and slinks into the night. Nobody spares another glance at him as he walks past the parties in the streets, his pitcher hidden under the jacket.

He has always been good at hiding.

The door clicks softly as he pushes the card into the slot, and quietly he slips into his room. It lies in almost complete darkness, the sickly light of the laptop and tablet on the table barely reaching the foot of their beds. Stefan stays still for a moment, his back resting against the door, and takes in the familiar sight.

"Hey."

"Hey," Gilles answers. His eyes remain glued to the screens, scanning the endless rows of text as he scrolls down the pages. Ever so often he stops, and grabs one of the many sheets of paper scribbled all over with notes, lying scattered all around him. The harsh light from the laptop paints dark shadows under his eyes and around his nose and turns his skin the colour of the trampled snow down in the streets.

"I saw you at the medal ceremony," Stefan says.

"Indeed?" Gilles says to the screen. "Cool."

Stefan laughs softly, and pushes away from the door. He puts the heavy pitcher down on a stack of notes on the table. Gilles' lips move without any sound coming out as he follows a certain text passage, and he does not flinch when Stefan bends over, and presses a kiss in his hair.

"It was," he says as he begins to undress. "Though I have to say the fire was a bit of a surprise."

"Huh."

"Yeah. But it only singed Aleks a little bit, so all's well."

"M-hm."

Stefan smiles. "Also, he will have enough time to recover anyway, seeing as they cancelled the race tomorrow." The cleaning crew that tidied their room today hid his shirt under the freshly made bed, and he has to dig through the stack of pillows.

"Good, good," Gilles mutters.

The fan in the windowless bathroom starts to whir as soon as Stefan flips the light switch. He leaves the door open while he brushes his teeth. "The afterparty was nice too. Beat retired from his retirement, by the way."

"Yes."

"Says he will start for San Marino from now on."

"Exactly!"

Gilles grabs another sheet from the table, and compares his notes with the text on the screen before resuming his lecture. He does not take notice of Stefan turning on the bedside lamp before sitting down on the bed behind him.

"Also, Odi offered to suck me off."

Gilles whirls around in his chair. "He fucking what?"

Stefan breaks down laughing.

"You…," Gilles growls, and he is just about to join him when he finally returns to reality. He jumps up straight in his chair, taking in the night that had fallen around him, and then turns to the laptop to read the time.

"But why are you here?" he exclaims, and turns to Stefan again. "You're supposed to be at your party!"

"I was tired."

"You can't be tired already! You only win your first world cup-podium once!"

Stefan laughs again, and holds out his palm. "That's generally how it goes, yes."

Gilles smiles at him, and puts his hand in Stefan's. It is a familiar weight there, his thumb knowing every ridge and bump of Gilles' fingers as he strokes them. They understand each other even without talking; their secret language that only they know has more than words, and Stefan only needs to cock his head, and put some pressure in his grip for Gilles' smile to fall.

"No!"

"I couldn't stay at the party," Stefan explains, ignoring Gilles' exclamation. "I have something important to do."

"No, please!" Gilles begs, and tries in vain to pull his hand out of Stefan's tightening grip. "Please, you don't understand! I can't…"

Stefan raises his eyebrows, and stands up.

"The exam is in two days!" Gilles says loudly, and grabs the lid of his laptop with his free hand to keep Stefan from shutting it. "I have to learn! Please, no!"

With a smile, Stefan bends down. "You have a race tomorrow," he whispers. "You need to sleep."

He presses a kiss against Gilles' babbling lips and slowly, unrelentingly shuts the laptop until its light vanishes.

"Just one more chapter, I promise I won't stay up longer but I need to go over that last part again, otherwise I can't…not the tablet too! Stefan!"

Stefan laughs as the tablet shuts down with short beep. He wraps his arms around Gilles when he jumps up, not in the least bothered by the flashes of anger shooting out of his dark eyes. They die quickly, like the laptop and the tablet, with another kiss that pulls a defeated sigh out of Gilles. It is far from the first fight they have battled in the past weeks.

"You have learnt, and relearnt, and crammed everything you need to know," Stefan mutters against Gilles' lips, and softly guides him towards the bed. "All you have to do now is keep your cool. Tomorrow you will have a great race, and after another night's rest you will blow the examiner's mind with your knowledge, and next week in Kitzbühel I will finally be able to begin every sentence with 'My lawyer says…'."

"I'm not becoming a lawyer!" Gilles objects while Stefan pushes him down onto the mattress, climbs over him, pulls the blanket over their feet, and turns off the bedside lamp. "It's just the final exam for my Masters of Law. If I wanted to become a lawyer I'd have to acquire a letters patent which means I would have to pass the bar, which means I would need at least five years of on-the-job-experience, and I don't…"

He breaks off when Stefan pulls him close, and with a sigh crumples against his shoulder. The old building is well insulated, and nothing from the party raging outside gets through the thick walls. Slowly, Gilles' breathing comes calmer and flatter while Stefan strokes his hand.

"Sorry I wasn't with you tonight," he mutters eventually, half-asleep.

"It's okay," Stefan answers. "I saw you from the podium."

"Really? But I was in the middle of the square."

"I would find you anywhere."

Gilles hums, and his head drops off Stefan's shoulder down on the pillow. Tenderly, Stefan pulls his arm out from under Gilles' body, and pulls the blanket up to their chins.

"I wouldn't have missed it for anything in the world," Gilles mumbles. " 'm proud of you."

[niemernuet]

Only two (three? four?) weeks too late but finally I managed to finish the little fic for the 12th prompt of the osws fandom challenge

❄️ Oops, wrong number ❄️

Brotherly Innocence

Rating: M pairing: Justin Murisier/Mauro Caviezel, pre-Ginodi characters: Justin Murisier, Mauro Caviezel, Gino Caviezel, Marco Odermatt, Loïc Meillard, Beat Feuz, Nies Hintermann, Dominik Paris length: 3'200 words summary: Set during Marco's first real season in the world cup, Justin starts to behave really strange towards Gino.

_____

The first time it happened in a training camp shortly before the start of the season. The people in the back office called it a great opportunity, and a chance for both teams to learn from each other. In the cramped chalet in Zermatt however, everybody was convinced they had simply forgot to book sufficiently early, and had to take whatever was left. Which meant that for the time being, both the speed team and giant slalom team had to share lodgings.

"I am going insane!" Loïc hissed, and kicked a piece of clothing, a sweatshirt probably, across the floor of the living room. Neither Gino nor Thomi looked up from their respective phones. Behind them, the village of Zermatt was hidden behind a wall of fog that filled the entire valley, and had cancelled all their plans for training on the snow for today.

"I will never ever stay with the speed team again! Never! Who raised these people? I don't care what they do with their bedrooms but why do they have to leave their stuff all over the house like slo…"

Thomi interrupted his tirade by loudly clearing his throat, and nodded slightly towards the kitchen. Loïc's cheeks drained of all colour when he recognised Beat and Mauro through the open door. They were leaning against the kitchen counter, each a mug of coffee in their hand and a grin on their face.

"Don't mind us," Beat said. "You were saying?"

Loïc's head swivelled between the guys in the kitchen and his teammates in the living room but other than an apologetic smile from Thomi he had no help. Gino was still busy staring at his phone.

"What the hell?", he muttered as he scrolled through a text.

"I think you were wondering why we're leaving our stuff all over the house like…," Mauro picked up, and pointed his mug towards Loïc as his cue to go on.

Loïc pressed his lips together, and pushed his chin up. "Team meeting already over?" he asked defiantly.

Beat took a noisy sip before he answered. "Yup."

Loïc grinded his teeth together. "And does this belong to one of you?" he asked, and pointed at the shirt on the floor.

"Looks like Niels'," Mauro answered. "He had to leave….urgently."

"Second cup of coffee," Beat added. "You know how it is. I think he used the bathroom on this floor. The one without any window."

Thomi snorted softly while Loïc rolled his eyes. They both turned around when Justin poked his head through the door from the hallway.

"Hey, did you see…" he began but was interrupted by Gino.

"What the hell is that message?"

Justin frowned. "What?"

Gino waved his phone through the air. "That text you just sent me? I know that we have a team meeting in one hour, I was there when Krugi announced it, remember?"

Justin's eyes grew wide. "Oh, that…," he stammered. "Sorry, that…that was the wrong number. I wanted…to tell Daniel." He cleared his throat, and looked around. Gino shook his head, and turned his attention back on his phone.

In the kitchen, Mauro put his mug down on the counter. "I could listen to you guys yap for ages," he said as he crossed the living room, and squeezed past Justin. "But I have a few pair of skis in the basement that need my attention. See you at lunch."

"Whatever…," Gino muttered.

Justin cleared his throat, and ran his hand over the back of his head. "Okay," he said, and stepped back into the hallway but Loïc did not let him go yet.

"Who were you looking for?"

Justin turned around. "What?"

"You were looking for someone when you came in here," Loïc reminded him.

Justin hesitated for a second. "I wasn't looking!" he eventually burst out. "I wanted to bring you someone. Hey, Marcolino, get here!" The last sentence he yelled into the hallway. He ignored the flinching of the people in the living room, and looked at his teammates with an accusing glare.

"Guys," he said. "Gino, you're the oldest here, you're supposed to be a team leader! And instead you leave the baby all alone in his room. That's really not cool of you!"

Gino frowned. "Both you and Thomi are older…," he said as hurried footsteps approached the room.

"What?" Marco asked, and poked his head through the door. His cheeks were flushed, and a strand of his hair was pointing straight up as if he had been twirling it again and again.

"Stop hiding in your room," Justin scolded him, "We need you here for a round of Brändi Dog."

"But I wanted to learn for my French exam…," Marco protested weakly while Loïc gleefully ran across the room, and grabbed the box with the game.

Justin waved him off, and pulled him towards the table. "Your French is excellent," he said, and threw a warning look at Loïc who burst out laughing. "You sit here, so you and Gino can play together, and Loïc and Thomi can be the other team." Marco's cheeks flushed even more when he caught Gino's eyes, and sheepishly he flattened his hair with his palm.

"Don't you want to help too?" Loïc asked, and started to shuffle the deck of cards without waiting for an answer.

"I'll help in the second round," Justin answered, "but first I really have to call Daniel. That can't wait." He clapped Marco on the shoulder, and hurried away.

Loïc shrugged, and started to hand out the cards around the table. He paused when he realised that Beat was still standing in the kitchen.

"Do you…," he asked, and breathed a sigh of relief when Beat shook his head.

He grinned. "Thanks, but I'm just happy watching you guys."

_____

The second time it happened on another continent. The gigantic building stood like a guardian by the lake, tall and imposing. It was remote even for Canada, and only the most hardened ski fans, of which there were far fewer than in Europe, undertook the long journey to watch the race. It left the skiers and their staff almost amongst themselves, and the atmosphere closer to a training camp than an actual race. The first training had passed uneventfully, and as the coach would only make his choice after tomorrow's training, for the time being everyone was relaxed and in a good mood.

In the biggest hall of the hotel, the waiters began to disassemble the remains of the dinner buffet while beyond the high windows, night slowly covered the frozen lake. Almost all of the tables were still occupied, and Loïc carefully tread around the legs and chairs with a tray full of cups, his tongue poking out between his lips. He was passed by Justin who had gathered the last pieces of plates and cutlery, and brought it over to one of the bussers.

Domme had his chair pushed far back from his table, and looked up from his conversation with Beat and Niels when Loïc put down the tray.

"Oh, a coffee would be nice about now," he remarked with his usual grin.

Loïc frowned, and put one cup down in front of Marco who immediately began to shovel spoons full of sugar into it.

"I counted them," he said between clenched teeth.

"Loïc doesn't like travelling with us," Beat explained.

Domme's eyebrows rose over his forehead. "Us?"

"People who participate in speed races," Beat grinned.

"A bit racist if you ask me," Niels threw in.

"I never said I don't like it," Loïc huffed but Beat ignored him.

"We're not sophisticated enough," he said to Domme. "I guess in slalom they put on a tie for dinner."

"Not a tie but trousers," Loïc muttered, and handed another cup to Mauro.

Domme looked up and down his and Beat's long underpants, and shrugged. "I say, the most important bits are covered, and that's all that should matter."

Loïc sighed, and held out the last cup towards Justin who came back from where he had wandered off.

"Sorry, not tonight," he said, and pushed his phone back into his pocket. "I've got to do something."

Domme's grin grew wider but Loïc did not see his outstretched hand. Before he could attract his attention though, Gino spoke up.

"Ehm…what?" he asked, looked up from his phone, and turned to Justin. "Why?"

A faint blush crept over Justin's cheeks that betrayed his casual shrug. "Why what?"

"Why do you need me in your room?"

The blush deepened, and turned into red flecks. "Because…I need your help. With…my suitcase."

Gino kept staring at him with a confused expression.

"I…put it on my wardrobe, and can't get it down anymore," Justin explained.

Gino's confusion grew visibly. "I am literally the second-smallest around here," he said flatly.

"Hey!" Beat piped up.

Justin pressed his lips together, and glared at Gino. "Fine!" he snapped. "I lied about my suitcase, I didn't put it on top of my wardrobe. I wanted to talk to you in private but I guess we can also do it here!"

Gino leant back in his chair, surprised by Justin's sudden outburst. "I mean…," he began.

"No, I get it!" Justin interrupted him. "All I wanted to say is that since Thomi stayed back home, it's on us to make sure Marco doesn't feel alone. It's his first full season in the world cup after all."

Marco choked on his coffee-flavoured sugar, and almost dropped the cup. "It's okay," he coughed, and his cheeks suddenly competed with Justin's for deepest crimson.

"You know we couldn't go onto the frozen lake yesterday because of all the delays," Justin continued to scold Gino, "so I thought one of us could go with him tonight because tomorrow's the last training, and then it's the races and who knows whether we'll have time."

"You really don't have to…" Marco tried to interject but he was interrupted again, this time by Mauro.

"The sky's clear tonight," he threw in.

Gino nodded, and smiled at Marco. "Then we really should go. You'll never see as many stars back in Switzerland. I swear it's like a painting."

Marco barely had the strength to return Gino's smile. "Okay," he almost whispered. "I'd like that."

They stood up, grabbed their jackets, and left towards the patio.

"In the meantime, we can go check up on your suitcase," Mauro said, and rose from his chair. "I'm slightly taller than Gino after all."

"I knew I could count on your help," Justin said.

"I thought you said you lied…" Loïc said but suddenly broke off as his eyes grew wide.

"Careful!" Beat hissed, and caught the cup in Loïc's hands that was about to tip over.

"Interesting…" Domme remarked, and wiped the spilled drops in the saucer with a napkin.

Loïc was still frozen in place, staring at the door through which Justin and Mauro had just disappeared, and only moved once Beat rapped his fingers on the table.

"You're bunking with Justin, right?" he asked. "Maybe you should savour your coffee for a while."

_____

The final time it happened shortly before Christmas in Italy. The weather was atrocious, and after the cancellation of the first training, everyone was just waiting for news of the inevitable. The coaches had put out a training run on another slope nonetheless, and everyone had suffered through a few careful runs before they finally threw in the towel. Their cheeks and fingers were still stinging from the cold when Gino and Marco lugged their stuff through the cramped hallways of the hotel towards their depot in the basement. The door almost opened in Gino’s nose as Justin came dashing out, his stuff already haphazardly thrown against a rack.

“Hurried much?” Marco asked as he pressed against the wall.

“Matter of fact, yes,” Justin grinned, and disappeared towards the stairs. “See you.”

“Wished he would have hurried that much in the training,” Gino said, and with a soft groan put his baggage down. “I could already be under the warm shower.”

“Not if I beat you to it,” Marco said, and grinned at him through the rack of skis.

Gino’s eyes gleamed, and he laughed when Marco blushed under his gaze. “We’ll see who…” he said before he suddenly broke off, and hastily fumbled through the pockets of his jacket. With a frown he read the message, and sighed deeply.

“Why always me?” he griped.

“What?” Marco asked.

“It’s Justin,” Gino said. “He says he’s in his room and he needs help…with something, I guess. That’s what he gets for rushing.”

Now Marco frowned too. “And? Can’t he ask Loïc for this?”

With another sigh, Gino hoisted his backpack over one shoulder, and walked towards the elevator.

“He’s in a video conference with the slalom team because of the race next week.”

“Great,” Marco muttered as he followed in his step.

“He really has it in for me this season,” Gino remarked, and because Marco did not know what to say to that, he shrugged with an awkward grin. With a jolt, the elevator rose upwards, and released them in a long hallway with dozens of doors. Even though the carpet was worn down along the middle it was still thick enough to swallow the noise of their steps. Impatiently, Gino knocked at the door next to theirs. Something or someone who had been moving behind the door stopped abruptly. For a moment it seemed as if the entire floor lay in dead silence.

“Come on!” Gino muttered, and knocked again. His hand was still in the air when the door suddenly opened, and revealed his brother.

Mauro was the first to regain his voice. “What are you doing here?” He wore sweatpants and a thermal undershirt whose threads strained visibly over his bulky chest.

Gino’s mouth opened a closed a few times before he could form words. “Justin wrote he needs my help? What are you doing here?”

Mauro shrugged. “Oh, that. I passed him on the way and he asked me. I guess he forgot to tell you. It’s all good now.” He smiled, and started to close the door. “See you at dinner.”

“Okay,” Gino managed before the door shut with a soft click.

He walked a few steps towards his own room before he realised that Marco was not following, and looked over his shoulder. Marco stared at him with wide eyes, his face white as the walls.

“Gino…,”

Again a few seconds passed, during which Gino looked at him bankly. Then, his backpack slipped off his shoulder, and his cheeks turned a burning red. With three large steps he returned to Marco.

“You’re banging my brother?” he hollered against the door, and slammed his fist against the thin wood as if he wanted to punch a hole in it. This time, it opened instantly, and this time, it was Justin who greeted him. He also wore sweatpants and a thermal undershirt but his clothes hung loosely around his body.

“Can you be…”

“You’re banging my brother?” Gino yelled over whatever Justin was trying to say, his voice dangerously close to a shriek. Spattered across the hallway, doors on both sides opened.

Justin’s cheeks had turned the same colour as Gino’s but Mauro wisely pushed him out of the way.

“I can explain, …” he began but Gino leant to the side to look around his brother.

“Oh my fucking god, I get it now!” he yelled at Justin. “Those texts you sent! They weren’t meant for me! You idiot have us saved under our last name!”

“Gino!” Mauro barked.

“Actually, I have you saved as ‘Caviezel’ and him as ‘Chéri’,” Justin butted in unhelpfully over Mauro’s shoulder.

“Justin!” Mauro exclaimed before he paused, and turned his head. “Wait, really?”

Justin smiled at him.

“I am going to throw up!” Gino gasped, and tore his hands through his hair.

“Oh come on,” Justin sighed.

Gino glared at him with a slightly unhinged look. “Excuse me for freaking out at the revelation that my teammate is banging my brother!” he said, and with every word got louder until he was yelling.

“Well, not always…,” Justin said with a shrug. He did not get further because Gino tried to jump trough the door, and it took all of Mauro’s muscular frame to stop him.

“Okay,” he said with a determined tone, and manhandled his brother towards the stairs. “We two need to have a chat! I’m sorry you had to find out this way but…”

“Oh, you’re sorry?” Gino exclaimed. Their bickering voices carried through the staircase for a long time until they disappeared somewhere in the building.

Justin and Marco remained on opposite sides of the door.

“I told him he should tell him,” a voice suddenly chimed in, and they both turned around.

“You knew?” Marco asked weakly.

Beat’s grin grew even bigger, and he pushed away from the door frame of his room. “Of course I did. I also know their trick they used to get Gino off their back.” He stared pointedly at Justin before he lifted Gino’s bag form he floor. Marco followed his gaze, and Justin abruptly stopped shaking his head.

Marco frowned. “What?”

Beat smiled at him, and handed him the bag. “Nothing, I was just kidding. Don’t worry, Gino will come around. He just needs a few minutes.”

_____

Epilogue:

The sun warmed the lounge through the closed windows, and they all had shrugged out of their ski clothes for lunch. Kurti would torture them with a unit of cardio later in the afternoon but for the time being they were free.

“Your turn,” Loïc reminded Marco, and pushed the dice across the board.

Marco rolled them over the table and squinted at his cards but before he could move his pawns, Justin crashed through the door, and practically threw himself across the table.

“Careful!” Loïc hissed and pulled the board back.

“I need your phone!” Justin panted, and stared at Gino.

Gino leant back in his chair. “What?”

“I can’t explain, just give me your phone! Please!”

With a frown, Gino pulled his phone out of the pocket of his jacket, his gaze automatically dropping towards the screen.

“No!” Justin yelled. “Don’t look! Just hand it over!”

A pained expression washed over Gino’s face as he finally understood.

Loïc grinned. “Did you send something to the wrong number again?”

“Oh…,” Marco said softly, and then: “Eww…”

“Shut up you two!” Justin snarled, and tried to grab the phone out of Gino’s hand but he held it just out of Justin’s reach.

“It’s locked, genius!” Gino said. “I need to look at it to unlock it!”

Justin shook his head. “Not after three attempts! I’ll use the code. You can change it afterwards, and I won’t look at anything but the message I sent. I swear! Just give it to me.”

Gino still hesitated, his eyes flickering nervously between a pleading Justin and the black gadget in his hand.

“Are you seriously contemplating looking at Justin’s junk?” Loïc asked.

“No, I’m not!” Gino snapped at him, a faint blush creeping over his cheeks, and finally he threw the phone at Justin.

“Thank you!” Justin sighed with relief, and winced when a preview of the picture he had sent appeared on the screen. “Okay, what’s the code?”

Gino’s lips were pressed to a thin line, and he intently stared at his red pawns on the board. “Zero, eight, one, zero…nineseven,” he muttered. Resounding silence was the answer as all three of his teammates stared at him with various looks of surprise.

“Isn’t that…” Loïc began, looking between Gino and Marco.

“Anyone want another coffee?” Gino asked loudly, and ran into the kitchen.

[oswsfandomchallenge]

Aaand we're back with another creative prompt. Let your imagination go wild for this one - we can't wait!

prompt #13:

❄️ "Are you mad at me? Would you like to be?" ❄️