#ginodi

[niemernuet]

There have been so awfully few ginodi-moments this season bc the cameras always want to focus on such unimportant things like the race (🙄) but today was a good day.

#except that they cut away right when odi started to open gino's zipper #darn it #alpine skiing #ginodi #marco odermatt #gino caviezel

[ticiie]

week 2: Everything is going to be okay

prompt from the off-season winter sport fandom challange

characters: Marco Odermatt, Chris Lödler, Zoé Chastan, Gino Caviezel

length: 597 words

January 2023, Kitzbühel

Chris noticed something was off the second Marco crossed the finish line. As far he could tell from the distance, it wasn't as bad as it had been the last time. Marco didn't break down crying, but he was still glad when Chris supported his walk and eventually helped him to take off the skis. The mixed zone turned chaotic as soon as the first journalist had spotted Marco's limp. Zoé helped Chris to shield Marco from the prying camera lenses and microphones as good as possible. They found the team hospitality to be almost abandoned which was good because Marco felt worse by the minute. He let himself fall on one of the plastic chairs, the injured leg stretched out because bending the knee did not feel alright at all, and buried his face in his hands. The adrenaline had worn off, the pain started to radiate up and down the whole leg and Marco hoped the feeling of a fist clenching around his throat would pass again quickly. The corner of his eyes burned.

“I need to get back, Alexis is still up at the start-”

“Don't worry, I got it. Go.”

Chris was reluctant to leave. Marco straightened his back and looked at him. “It's okay. Everything's going to be okay.,” he said. They had known each other for half an eternity now, yet Chris wasn't sure if he believed Marco's words. He left the room and hurried back to the skidoo-station. Meanwhile Zoé was organising a fastest possible transport back to the hotel while also keeping the team’s physiotherapist updated. Marco peeled the race suit off his body in order to examine the knee closer. The swelling was visible already yet it wasn’t bruised which Marco took as a good sign. It felt instable though, he didn’t want to put any pressure on it. The first doubts started to creep into his head: What if the injury was just a bit delayed? What if it really was the meniscus that had taken the hit again and was now fully blown, with no other option than to remove and replace it completely? That would have him in the hospital for a week and the season at its end, no world championship, no more competing for the big globe, let alone the small ones that he got a chance at, and don’t get started on the rehab, the last one had been terrible-

“Marco!”

Zoé’s voice ripped him out of the thought spiral. She was holding out her phone to him and he gave her a confused look but she just motioned him to take it. Marco took a short glance at the screen and recognised Gino’s name on it and suddenly, something inside of him sighed. He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. Gino knew him well enough to talk first: “This is different. You’re going to be back on track in no time.”

“How can you be so sure?” Marco hated how fragile his voice sounded.

“I just am. There’s no way Loïc gets to be the only teammate challenging me for a medal in Schladming, I don’t begrudge him that sort of satisfaction.”

Marco laughed weakly. The door opened again and the physiotherapist joined their group, Marco clenched his hand around the phone a little tighter because he knew the upcoming minutes weren’t going to be easy on neither his knee nor his mind.

“I’ll call you as soon as I know more, okay?” he asked Gino.

“Of course. And Marco?”

“Yeah?”

“Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”

#marco odermatt #gino caviezel #ginodi #osws fandom challenge #osws #shoutout to wunderlichkind #and to niemernuet #rpf #ski alpin

[parimass]

#the boys making our day better #boyfriends #alpine skiing #marco odermatt #gino caviezel #ginodi

[pain-to-my-auchocolat]

went on insta-detox, came back and saw those ginodi-couple pics from San Francisco 🥺 why did i abandoned insta again ???

#alpine skiing #marco odermatt #gino caviezel #ginodi #that castle one #the one from behind while looking over the bay

[the-dying-fan]

#why are they like THIS??? #ginodi #gino caviezel #marco odermatt #alpine skiing #olympics 2022

[beyond-mogai-pride-flags]

Gyodiaffectional Pride Flag

[id: 14 stripes of light lavender/violet, double dark red, white, double cyanish grey, pastel yellow, pastel green, double cyanish gray, black, pale red, and desaturated magenta. end id.]

Gyodi- (Giodi-, Gynodi-, Gynodia-, Ginodi-, Ginodia-, or Giodia-): an orientation qualifying affectional distaste towards women; feeling affectionally contempt or a deep repugnance directed at women. To be used as gyodisexual, gyodiromantic, gyodiplatonic, etc.

Odi- comes from odium, mixed with -gyn-/-gin- word root. Despite its etymology, this doesn't mean the same as feminophobia, feminomisia, misogyny, nor phobogyny (the reverse of philogyny). Also not meant to be necessarily actionally repulsed or aversed to.

This can be circumstantially harmless, therefore we preserve this identity with nofemaric, panaspec, and anattractional people in mind. But it's philosophically open to anyone else.

#mod ap. #pride flags #gyodiasexual #giodiasexual #mogai flag #new terms #described #transcript available #id #orientations

[niemernuet]

first egregious ginodi-scene of the season ♥️

#marcel in front of the tv biting down on his knuckls rn #ginodi #alpine skiing

[niemernuet]

I am a one-trick-pony (my one trick being a shameless sucker for Ginodi) (it's not a good trick)

Before Date Night

"I feel gloomy just looking at it."

Loïc shrugged. "Eh, it's actually still rather bright outside. Also, the snow is just perfect, so that is worth everything. But you haven't answered my question: Why are you calling me on Zoom?"

Marco frowned out of the screen of Loïc's laptop. "You're not answering your phone so I thought you're probably busy clicking through five hundred pictures of Finnish nights."

Loïc blushed, and with a sheepish grin dug through the unmade blanket spread around him. "Sorry…," he said as he looked at the dozens of notifications. "What is it?"

Marco took a deep breath. "I'm not asking you because I have to, technically…" He broke off with a new scowl when he saw Loïc's grin grow wider and wider.

"Okay, that was a mistake," he muttered. "Sorry for interrupting."

"No no no!" Loïc yelled, though he could not contain his smirk. "Don't hang up! I promise I won't laugh! So, you need my fashion advice."

"I don't need anything at all from you!" Marco snapped, though the fact that he did not end the call spoke for itself.

Loïc kept grinning at him until Marco turned away from the screen with a groan, and returned a few moments later with two coats.

"Black or camel hair?"

Loïc cocked his head, and chewed on his lower lip. "That depends…"

"Great answer," Marco griped, "thanks a bunch!"

"You can't just jump that question on me like that!" Loïc exclaimed. "There's so many variables you need to consider. What's the occasion? Who's coming with you? What are you wearing underneath?"

Marco sighed, and rolled his eyes. "Dinner with Gino in Locarno to mark the real beginning of the season. His parents recommended the place, apparently they know the owner, and I don't want leave a bad impression."

"Half a dozen crystal globes make up many fashion mistakes," Loïc said. "You could rock up in Crocs and nobody would care."

Marco glared at Loïc while he giggled at his own joke. When he realised that Marco would not join him, he got serious again.

"What kind of place is it? Pizzeria? Trattoria? Grotto?"

Marco shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"Of course it does! I need to know the setting!" He paused when a thought occurred to him. "Don't tell me you're going to that hack Ivo Adam!"

With another sigh, Marco put one of the coats down, and scrolled through his phone. "Osteria," he read from the screen. "Not by Ivo Adam. Also, could you come to a decision? I have to leave in ten minutes."

"With that hair?"

"Coats!" Marco snarled, and waved the garments in front of the screen again.

Loïc sighed, and thought about his next words. "Do you still have that black and grey shirt with the flowers that you wore when we met in Montreux last summer?"

Marco nodded.

"That shirt, jeans, black sneakers, and the camel hair coat," Loïc said, and leant back in his pillow.

Marco pondered his words for a moment. "Really?"

"Well, brown leather shoes would fit better but I suppose you still haven't bought a pair, have you?"

Marco shrugged, and grumbled something inaudible.

Loïc's grin came back with a vengeance. "Thought so."

Marco put the coats down, and leant over to reach the laptop. "No need to be so smug."

"You're welcome."

"Yeah, yeah, thank you. Just…don't tell Gino I asked you."

Loïc hissed. "I'm not sure I can do that."

Marco groaned. "But at least wait until I've had a chance to talk to him."

"Of course, no problem," Loïc said with a smile.

-----

A stiff, not too cold wind was blowing over the piazza and taking all the dry leaves with it. Gino was waiting behind a pillar of the arcades going around the entire square when Marco stepped out of the hotel. The clock change had shifted nightfall a few days ago, and there was still a bit of grey light outside the reach of the golden street lights.

"I was about to come back up," Gino smiled, and pulled Marco into a lingering kiss.

"You can't rush perfection," Marco muttered, his forehead pressed against Gino's.

"You're right," Gino said, and tenderly pushed a lapel of Marco's jacket aside. "My compliments to your fashion consultant."

Marco's shoulders slumped. "That rat!" he grumbled.

With a laugh, Gino took him by the hand, and pulled him along.

#ginodi #text #mine

[niemernuet]

Stories I'll never write: Crashing Waves (Ginodi sailing!AU)

Marco, a generational talent in sailing, is the youngest skipper ever to lead a yacht at the legendary FIS Cup. He is as strong as he is ruthless, and with his crew manages to sail waves that would capsize anyone else. Backed by Red Bull, the budget for their endeavour is endless, as well as the pressure to win the Crystal Globe.

Gino is the navigator in his brother's plucky underdog team of ragtag sailors, with more passion than fundings. Through hard work and a bit of luck they manage to snag a spot in the FIS Cup, and even though they should not have the sliver of a a chance, the Black Star somehow not only manages to keep up with the leader Alinghi but to challenge them as the Cup progresses.

With every leg the respect for the underdogs grows but not just that! Gino, though fiercely loyal to his brother, builds a friendship with Marco that slowly threatens to become something more. Even though they are competitors, Gino's kindness allows Marco to be himself, and confess of the pressure he is under.

Things only take a turn for the worse before the penultimate race. A risky maneuver by the Alinghi almost crashes the Black Star. Mauro gets injured and cannot continue, and suddenly Gino is at the helm of the yacht for the last and deciding race.

#i was so looking forward to sailing clips of ginodi but ofc rb only allows their own on the ship 😒 #luckily my collection of gifs is big enough to bend reality by now #alpine skiing #au #ginodi

[niemernuet]

impressing Roger ❌ bullying Gino ✔️

#alpine skiing #ginodi #that's true love

[niemernuet]

Distance

While Odi collected four medals in five days, Gino suffered in Alta Badia.

rating: T pairing: Marco Odermatt/Gino Caviezel characters: Marco Odermatt, Gino Caviezel, Justin Murisier length: 1'000 words

It was not the welcome Marco had expected.

"'s open." Gino's voice sounded as if he had gargled with sandpaper.

"Poor you," Marco smiled as he opened the door, "you sound like…"

He could not finish the sentence. For a split second, Gino stared at him wide-eyed from under the blanket, then he shot out of bed and across the room at the speed of light, shoved Marco back into the hallway, and shut the door in his face with a loud bang.

Confused, Marco staggered backwards.

"What are you doing here?" Gino shriek-yelled, his voice distorted by the sore throat.

"I'm here to see you," Marco answered. He pushed the knob down again but this time, the door did not budge. He tried again but he only managed to open a tiny crack before it slammed shut again.

"Don't come in!" Gino barked from the other side of the door where he pushed with all his weakened strength to keep Marco out. "I'm sick!"

"I know!" Marco said, and he could not hide the laugh that came along. "That's why I'm here. Come on, open! You know I love you no matter how bad you look."

"It's not that!" Gino answered, and Marco could hear his eyes rolling through the door. "I can't make you sick! Not now! And what the hell did you think to drive all the way here? You're supposed to rest in Val Gardena."

"I can't rest when I know you're not well and need me."

Gino did not answer to that, and after a few seconds, Marco gave the door another tentative wiggle.

"Are you for real?" he asked the door incredulously. He did not feel like laughing anymore.

Before Gino said anything, another person rounded the corner of the hallway.

"Are you having a domestic?" Justin asked. "We can hear you all the way from the kitchen."

"He's not letting me in!" Marco said as he pushed against the door again. "Gino! I'm serious, open the bloody door!"

"And I'm serious too!" Gino said before he was overcome by a thunderous coughing fit. Marco tried to use the opportunity to push his way into the room but Gino's foot did not budge.

"You have a race tomorrow, and the following four days. You can't get sick now!"

"Wow," Justin butted into their argument. "So Marco is too good to breathe in the diseased air in your room but I have to bring you tea and soup constantly?"

"You're not important," Gino said as he gasped for air. "Also it was two times and…oh no…"

The pressure against the door from inside the room vanished, and immediately Marco threw it open. He only got a brief look at Gino, his tousled hair, the sweaty sheen on his face and his bloodshot eyes then the door to the bathroom slammed shut, and not one second after the sound of someone throwing up into the toilet bowl echoed through the room. This time, Marco did not try to follow Gino but stared helplessly as the hollow retching noise reverberated through the door.

"He's been doing this the past two days," Justin explained, unfazed by the sounds from the other side. Suddenly, his face lit up. "Hey, maybe you're pregnant?" he shouted.

Marco's patience had worn out completely, and with his lips pressed to a thin line, he stared daggers at Justin.

"Nobody appreciates my humour," Justin grumbled, and turned away. "I'll go tell the others you're not breaking up."

The sound of a flushing toiled drowned out the rest of his complaints, and silence followed. Marco softly laid his head against the door. Briefly, he tried to open but Gino had turned the lock.

"Please…" he said quietly. "I miss you." He imagined Gino crumpled on the ground, and all he wanted to do was break through the cheap press board door, and take him into his arms. Time together was always short during the season but this year it felt so much worse. Gino was strong, and kept up a strong façade, only Marco knew the toll Mauro's accident had taken on him, and how much he was still suffering.

"I'm sorry," Gino answered after a few seconds. "I could never forgive myself."

"I know what I'm doing," Marco insisted.

Gino's voice was sharper this time. "Some things are more important."

"You are more important than these stupid races, you…"

"No, I'm not!" Gino interrupted. "At least not now. One day, yes, but right now you have to think about your job! Please stop arguing…" Gino's voice broke, and with him Marco. He slid down the door until he sat on the scratchy carpet. He looked over to the unmade bed. The air was stuffy, and tinged with the sharp smell of menthol from a tub of ointment on the nightstand. A mug and an entire mountain of crumpled tissue paper took up the rest of the small table.

"I hate this," he muttered.

"Same," Gino answered, followed by a loud sneeze, and a nose being blown loudly.

"Just five more days," Gino coughed. "We'll get through it."

Marco smiled. "Three days, actually."

"But…"

"Do you think I'll let you do this during the giant slaloms? I'll leave Val Gardena right after the Super-G, and you better be fit again by then because nothing will stop me from kissing you."

Gino laughed, though it was closer to a croak. "I'll try my best not to puke over your medals."

Marco moved until he was on his knees. "Should I move outside again so you can go back to bed?"

"Actually, I think I'll be staying here a bit longer," Gino answered. "I'll probably have to throw up some more soon."

"Oh." Slowly, Marco stretched his legs out from under him and turned until he was resting with his back against the door. "Mind if I stay too then?"

He did not need to see Gino to know he was smiling. "No."

#cleaning out the drafts #that one's already one year old #happy birthday baby you'll never get any bigger than this #time to let you go #rpf #text #ginodi #alpine skiing #marco odermatt #gino caviezel #mine

[niemernuet]

Gino's tip for a romantic Valentine's day: watch firework together

#alpine skiing #ginodi #gino caviezel #marco odermatt

[niemernuet]

#iwilltakecareofyou

#i will be unavailable for the foreseeable future #too busy crying #ginodi #alpine skiing #marco odermatt #gino caviezel #mauro caviezel

[niemernuet]

Second prompt of the off-season winter sports fandom challenge already. 🥳 This weeks' prompt is:

prompt #2:

❄️ Everything is going to be okay ❄️

Rating: T pairing: Marco Odermatt/Gino Caviezel, Justin Murisier/Mauro Caviezel characters: Marco Odermatt, Gino Caviezel, Loïc Meillard, Stefan Rogentin, Aleksander Aamodt Kilde, Hannes Hassler, Justin Murisier (mentioned), Mauro Caviezel (mentioned) length: 2'000 words

I took inspiration from Marco's vid of the ride to Wengen where Gino was sitting all by himself.

Aleks was smart. He did not need the long, bumpy ride on the cramped train to Wengen to realise that something was wrong, though that certainly did not help. Luckily, he was also tactful, and did not dig too much.

"I haven't heard one serious word from Justin today," he said quietly over Marco's shoulder while they were standing in the line for the gondola. A few rows ahead of them, Justin had one arm around Lars, and told something apparently very important with the other, flailing it wildly through the air.

Marco made a noncommittal sound with his throat. Honestly, Justin today was nothing compared to Justin two days ago, when Mauro had surprised them in their short Austrian training camp.

"And I haven't heard one word at all from Gino," Aleks added, his voice almost a whisper because Gino was closer. Not that it would have been necessary. Gino had been lost in his thoughts since that fateful visit, and nothing Marco had tried since had pulled him out for long.

Marco looked down at his feet, and shuffled a few steps along with the rest of the queue.

"Everything okay?" Aleks concluded his observations.

Marco shook his head. "No."

Aleks eyes lingered on him, giving time for a longer answer. When it did not come, he patted Marco on the shoulder, and dropped the subject.

The gondola was stuffed to the brim when they finally floated out of the station, and Marco ended up sandwiched between Loïc, Loïc’s elbows, and Gino.

“Do you have to take pictures now?” he asked when his chest caught another shove. “The windows is scratched to hell anyway.”

“It adds to the composition,” Loïc grumbled but at least put his camera away again. Indistinguishable chattering in dozens of languages filled the gondola, only their corner was silent. Eventually, Marco could not bear it any longer, and he took another small step until he could rest his chin on Gino’s shoulder.

“How are you?” he asked softly, and smiled at him via the milky glass.

With a thin smile, Gino twisted out of Marco’s touch.

“Fine,” he said, and when he caught the look in Marco’s eyes, added: “Really, I’m fine.” As if to prove how fine he was, he pushed through the crowd as soon as the doors opened in the mountain station, and disappeared through the turnstile.

“He is not fine” Loïc muttered next to Marco, and used his elbow one more time to push past.

Chris was already waiting with a pair of skis, and gave a few instructions while Marco stepped into them. Today was only inspection, and the mood around them not unlike the ski camp of a school. A few steps ahead, Loïc and Gino already pushed past the start gate of the downhill-race and skidded down the icy slope. They would only race the Super-G, and did not need to inspect the first few turns of the track. When Marco and the rest of the team reached the second start, Loïc was, predictably, nowhere to be seen. Gino, however, still hovered around the long turn before the big jump over the Hundschopf. He did not look at the precipice though but back towards the vast flanks of the mountains that towered far above them.

“Dude, move your damn picnic out of the racing line! You’re blocking everything.”

Marco did not see which of the Austrians had snapped at Gino but he did not need to, Gino’s flinching was enough to wake hot rage in him. He pushed his sticks deep into the almost solid ground and hurried along the edge of the track.

"Keep it to yourself, idiot!" he yelled. "Nobody cares." If they heard him they did not let it on, and when he finally reached Gino, they had already crossed the edge of the Hundschopf.

"What an ass," Marco said, and stopped next to his boyfriend. "Ignore them."

Gino blinked, and nodded absentmindedly, his eyes already scanning the mountains again. Marco shifted his weight a little bit, and slowly glided towards the nets fencing the entire run. When he did not hear Gino in his back, he stopped. "But maybe we can go on now," he said. "The Norwegians are almost here, and they'll clog everything."

The sun was only just now reaching the bottom of the valley somewhere far below, and Gino kept staring at the blurred line between sunlight and shadow.

"Gino!"

Marco had not meant to sound as sharp, certainly not with the rest of the team finally catching up.

Gino's head shot around. "Yeah, you're right," he said but Marco knew him well enough to know he had not listened to one word he had said.

Stefan's eyebrows retreated under his helmet as he skied past them.

"This is going to be a long fucking week," Niels muttered behind Stefan.

Gino wanted to follow them along the net but Marco held him back by the hand.

"You can't keep doing this," he said as quietly as possible. "You have to focus on the race."

"I know, I'm sorry," Gino said, and pulled his hand back. "It's just been a bit difficult…"

He did not finish the sentence but Marco understood him nonetheless, and he pulled him into a quick hug.

"We'll get through this."

-----

The news dropped early next morning, and Aleks' frustratingly sympathetic tone from yesterday became downright pitying as he sidled up behind Marco in the line to the breakfast buffet.

"Sorry to hear," he said as they shuffled past the stacks of plates. "It's one thing to think that it's the only sensible step and yet when the decision is final…"

"Yeah," Marco answered, something between a joyless snort and a sharp exhale, "it is."

At the other end of the breakfast hall, Justin was once again explaining something very important and funny to the people around the table. Ever so often, someone would stop and try to engage Mauro in the conversation, it was always the same, but Justin made sure they could not utter more than the platitudes, certainly no questions, and butted in with his story until they gave up and moved over to Beat. Even though Marco knew what he was doing and knew he was supposed to be understanding, his patience was already almost spent to exhaustion.

Aleks interrupted his thoughts with another, infuriatingly correct observation. "Gino's not taking it well."

Marco shovelled a few spoons of muesli into a bowl, and waited for his turn at the milk jug. "No, he's not," he muttered, and glanced to their table where Gino sat hunched in a corner. Marco could almost reach the yogurt and flee Aleks' too-well perception when:

"Do you think he should start in his condition? Because I'm not sure he's really fit for such a long race. Mentally, I mean."

"I know…" Marco said, more gruffly than Aleks deserved. He decided to skip the yogurt, and take his muesli with milk only today. "I'm not sure…it's not my place," he answered, and hurried away.

The question followed him though, from the breakfast hall to the training, where Gino came dead last, through the sizeable crowd of spectators wanting an endless stream of photos, and back to the hotel where Loïc ambushed him in the ski storage. He had not participated in the training but had opted for a day of rest, and, if his damp hair and the bath robe over his shoulders was any indication, had spent most of it at the hotel pool.

"Promise me you won't be mad for what I'm about to say."

They were alone in the stuffy room, all the service men still huddled outside in deep conversation, including Chris.

"What?" Marco asked impatiently, his mind occupied with too many other things.

"I saw Hannes' tapes from Gino's run today and I don't think he should start."

Marco turned away from his skis to stare at Loïc.

"I swear I'm not saying that because I'm hoping for better chances at a starting place at the World Championships…" Loïc hurried to add.

"I didn't think that…" Marco threw in. "…until you mentioned it."

Loïc rolled his eyes. "I'm worried. He's not been himself since Mauro…made the decision. And today you could really see it in his racing."

Marco sighed, and picked his backpack from the ground. "Why do you come to me with that?" He did not mention that Loïc was the second person today, he did not need to know.

"Because if I suggested Gino sit out the race, he'd think I'm just trying to get a better chance for the World Championships," Loïc answered without hesitation. "Also, he's your boyfriend."

Marco did not know what to say, and instead busied himself by putting away his ski boots.

"And?" Loïc asked when they both hung over the dryers.

"I'll think about it," Marco said, slung the empty backpack over his shoulder, and walked to the door.

"Great, thanks," Loïc said, and followed him into the hallway. He patted Marco's shoulder, and disappeared up the stairs, taking three steps at once. Marco remained in the gloomy corridor, unsure how to proceed. He felt tired, and he wished…he wished he could focus on the upcoming races. He wished there was only one retirement party this week, the one for Beat who could end on his own terms and left with a smile.

A few steps ahead a door opened, and Hannes stepped out. He was talking over his shoulder, and only recognised Marco when they almost bumped into each other.

"Sorry, didn't see you there," he smiled.

Marco nodded, and stopped chewing his lip. "Is Krugi around?"

Hannes pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "He's all yours. Is everything okay?"

Marco nodded. "Yeah," he said, and closed the door in Hannes' face.

-----

The consequences of the few short words with Krugi blew up in Marco's face only one day later, shortly before the second training. Breakfast had been easier, most of the people who had access to the hall had already talked with Mauro the day before, and Marco barely spared Krugi and Gino a glance when they left before anyone else. He was in his room, stuffing the last of his things in his backpack, when the door flew open.

"You did what?"

Marco had never seen Gino as angry as in that moment when he stomped into the room.

"You talked to Krugi behind my back?" he said, and with every word got louder and louder while behind him, the door's automatic mechanism closed it at a snail's pace.

"I'm worried," Marco began. "You've not…"

"You had no right!" Gino spat in his face, and the fury in his eyes cut deep into Marco's heart.

"You haven't talked to me in days!" Marco exclaimed. "I didn't know what I should do."

"Not that!" Gino yelled. "Not go to a coach and say you want me out!"

"That's not what I said!" Marco shot back. "I know how hard it is, and I just…"

"You don't know!" Gino interrupted him, and the coldness in his voice almost brought tears to Marco's eyes. "You have no idea how it is."

"I'm not the only one. Others see it too," Marco said, and he hated the way his voice broke. He looked down on his feet. "I just wanted to help you."

Gino snorted, and shook his head. "Well, stop! I can race just fine, and I don't need anyone meddling around, okay?" He did not wait for an answer but walked into the small bathroom, and slammed the door shut.

-----

He stayed in there until Marco left for his training run. It did not go well at all  today, Marco's timing wrong in every turn, and his skis unmanageable. He was back in the hotel, barely listening to Hannes' well-meaning words while he replayed the tape of Marco's run, when Gino returned. Marco had learnt from a few stolen glances on his phone that his run had been a bit better, though not noticeably so. Without sparing him one look he disappeared towards the rooms, and shortly afterwards hurried past again, this time in street clothes. Before Marco could ask, he had already stormed out of the hotel. Finally, Hannes seemed to realise that he was talking to himself.

“Do you want to go to the press conference too?”

Marco frowned. “What?”

“Mauro’s press conference starts in ten minutes. Over in the old cinema.”

Marco did not have to think long. With an apologetic smile he ran off, though he barely reached the lobby when he was stopped again.

“Is everything okay?” Stefan asked, and crumpled his hat between his hands.

“Perfect,” Marco said, his mind already in the old building down the street as he tried to walk around him as inconspicuous as possible.

“I guess in that case we’re not going to bunk together?”

Marco stopped in his track.

“Gino asked me whether we could swap rooms on our way back from the slope,” he explained. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to get away from Niels’ snoring, but I think he didn’t really mean it?”

Marco’s shoulders slumped. He thought for a moment. “I’ll talk to him,” he said.

Stefan nodded sympathetically. “Thought so.”

The former cinema had been turned into a community centre, and the biggest hall, the one with a stage, had in turn been modelled into a makeshift studio for Mauro’s press conference. Only a handful of journalists had made the long way up to Wengen, most of them had wisely chosen to watch the broadcast on television, and Zoé’s voice echoed through the room as she asked Mauro another question. Mauro paused before he answered, his eyes scanning over the chairs. They remained a bit longer on the person sitting in the last row, behind all the journalists. Marco could not see what Justin did but whatever it was, it caused a faint shadow of a smile on Mauro. As silently as possible, Marco stepped next to Gino who was watching from the doorway. For a while they listened to Mauro’s words. Gino moved first when he pushed away from the doorframe, and wrapped his arms around Marco. Marco hugged him back, burying his nose in Gino’s hair.

“I never wanted this day to come,” Gino whispered. Marco did not say anything, and let his hug speak.

“Who else saw it?” Gino asked after a moment.

On the stage, Zoé had moved out of the camera’s frame, and read over her cue cards while Mauro still talked.

“Aleks,” Marco answered. Gino’s nodded, his head moving over Marco’s jacket. “And Loïc.”

Gino snorted. “He just wants my place at the World Championships.”

“He was afraid you’d say that.”

Gino chuckled softly, and for a while they stayed silent again.

“I know I can go on alone,” Gino eventually said, and even though he was still whispering, Marco could hear the tears. “But right now I don’t want to.”

Marco strengthened his grip around Gino’s shoulders, and blinked away his own tears biting in the corner of his eyes.

“What can I do?” he rasped.

A few metres ahead of them, Justin jerked in his chair, and on the stage, another smile flickered over Mauro’s face.

“Can you tell me that everything’s going to be okay?”

Marco swallowed around the tears, and tenderly stroked over Gino’s hair.

“Everything is going to be okay.”

#osws fandom challenge #alpine skiing #ginodi #text #mine

[niemernuet]

calm before the storm

#ginodi #alpine skiing #marco odermatt #gino caviezel

[ticiie]

yeah, i'm still not over this so why not turn it into a hopefully enjoyable (ginodi) one shot?

This wasn’t her first race. Zoé had experienced enough successes and at least as many disappointments to know that none of this was normal anymore. The air around her was buzzing. From where she was standing, she had a good view on both the finishing area and the position of the race leader, where Marco was pacing up and down again like some caged animal. She had never seen him so nervous, another fact that made clear how incomparable this entire situation was. Zoé fought her way through the crowd of coaches, athletes, and other officials until only a banister separated her from the space that was visible to the cameras.

“Marco!”

He turned around and hurried to her side as soon as he recognised her. It was safe to say that Marco looked like shit. The run on the slope had been tiring enough and all the hoping and trembling for the win had already left their traces on him. He clenched his hands around the metal until his knuckles turned white.

“This is literal hell”, he mumbled. He was still shaking from head to toe. Zoé dug through the countless pockets of her jacket until she found the small bottle with the funny label and handed it to Marco.

“Here, this might help.”

Marco didn’t give himself any time to hesitate. He opened it and chugged the liquid down in a swift motion. It tasted a little artificial and left a burning aftertaste in his throat, the alcohol content was without any question higher than what he was used to during the season. He was thankful for the warmth that started to spread from inside his chest through his limbs.

“Can I do anything to make it easier? I feel like shit seeing you like this.”, Zoé said. Marco just shrugged.

“I’m pretty lost myself. I just- God, I want this so bad, I can’t-” his voice failed. The noise around them prevented the microphones to capture the sob that escaped Marco’s throat that second. Zoé quickly wrapped her arms around him, for both their comfort and also to at least try and shield him off a little. She was glad to be wearing mirrored sunglasses or else the cameras would’ve caught her own tears that stung in the corner of her eyes.

“It’s gonna be over soon. And no matter the outcome, you made us all so incredibly proud.”

A minute or two passed and Marco regained his composure. He adjusted his sunglasses and sat back down on the red chair while Zoé tried her best in focusing on the words that came through the radio in her ear.

Then it was Aleksander’s turn. The crowd cheered and gave their all and Marco felt like jumping out of his skin any second. He felt his heart beating in his ears, at the same time his body had gone numb, he couldn’t think, could barely see the images on the screen in front of him and when his strongest competitor crossed the finish line, with the time stamp showing a red background...Marco screamed. He screamed of joy, of relief, all of a sudden, he felt as if a giant weight had been lifted from his chest. Breathing was a whole lot easier too. So many people appeared out of nowhere to hug and to congratulate him, Marco lost both track and sense of time. What really tripped Marco over the edge though, were Walter’s tears. Their head of mission was a very objective, very calm man who almost always appeared reserved, both on and off camera. Honest but never mean and today, it was thanks to Marco that he let down his guard for once.

“You did it!,” he shouted over and over again and pulled Marco in yet another bone crushing hug. Marco feared he would be lifted off the ground any second and fly away, be carried to new heights up in the sky.

---

The celebrations were still going strong by the time Marco left the venue, but he felt as if now was the chance to finally get some rest. All of his muscles were aching but he didn’t feel any pain, just a giant exhaustion that was mixed with the dizzy trace the alcohol had left in his head. Justin had rewarded him a delicious cake, the medal had made more than one round through the crowd and around a lot of different necks until it had found its way back around Marco’s. He pulled the key card from his wallet. It took him two attempts to find the sensor that opened the door and he certainly didn’t bother to fiddle with the coat hanger, he just dropped his jacket to the floor. One of the lamps that was hanging above the headboard of the bed was turned on, apart of that the room was dark and quiet. Marco let himself fall flat on the bed. Not the very best idea, considering it only made his world spin a lot faster. He wanted to roll over and reach for his phone, it had run out of battery about three hours ago and Marco still owed his sister a call back. But his legs felt so heavy and the mattress was so comfortable, the ambition for that task took the quickest way out of his head immediately. The bathroom door opened and the sight offered to Gino made the older one smile fondly.

“Well, hello there,” he said and leaned over Marco to place a kiss on his cheek. Marco grinned; eyes closed in content. “Hi. Why are you still awake, I told you not to wait for me.”

Gino was a little surprised by the fact that Marco’s obviously drunken state still allowed him to form both coherent thoughts and sentences.

“You really thought I would be able to sleep after a day like this?” He kneeled down and pulled the shoes off Marco’s feet. The situation resembled the one a good year ago a lot, only this time, the medal around Marcos neck was shaped like a snow flake. Marco didn’t stop him when Gino took it off as well, placing it on the bedside table.

“I am so proud of you. You deserve this so much,” Gino said while peppering Marco’s face with tender kisses. It was too late for this to turn into anything more intense and it was okay. It required the last bit of Marco’s willpower to fight himself out of his jeans and when he finally lay next to Gino underneath the soft blanket, wrapped in his boyfriends arms, he sighed in relief once again. Gino let his fingers run through Marco’s hair until he felt his breath evening out.

“I love you so much,” he whispered into the dark.

“I love you too.”

#wsc courchevel/méribel 2023 #courchevel/mon chérie #sports rpf #rpf #marco odermatt #goat #gino caviezel #zoé chastan #ginodi