"OUCH, STOP IT!"

Olav opened his eyes and could hardly suppress the tears. The artificial light stung his eyes.

"Sorry, was that too much?" Olav gave a tormented sigh and let his head sink back into his pillow. He thought that the pain in his right elbow should have subsided long ago. But the masseur had managed to press on the exact spot that brought back the memory of post-operative pain.

Now it was gone, his beautiful daydream of showing Nobuhiko who was on top even besides the racing track. He tried to recall the image, but the masseur once again drove down the painful muscle area. Olav suck in the air sharply.

"The muscle is completely stiff, Olav. Do you think you could sit up so I could change the angle?"

No, he couldn't. Unless the physical therapist won't stop pushing at more pain points cooling down the fire in Olav's loins. 

Olav murmured softly and shook his head.

Alvar, the physical therapist of the Viking Spades, could not suppress a smile. "All right, then we'll do it this way." Instead, he continued with Olav's right lower leg and slowly massaged up to the knee. When he had reached the outside, Olav flinched in pain again.

"Are you serious?" Olav jumped up and sat on the bed. Alvar had to jump to the side to avoid getting Olav's foot in his face.

Olav sulked and rubbed his aching knee. "I really wonder what they are paying you for anyway. I thought you were a masseur, not a butcher!" His brown eyes looked grim at first, but then he started to smile and his gaze relaxed. "At first I think I'm about to go to heaven, and then, with a flick of your finger, you send me straight to hell!"

Alvar reached for Olav's right hand again and slowly made his way up. "Don't worry, it's been worse than this. "Lift your arm and try to relax."

The physical therapist's voice was so relaxing that even Olav could let himself go. How else would it have been possible that he could have ... let's not talk about it during the massage.

The sexy image had evaporated like a soap bubble and Olav didn't even remember why out of all people he had imagined Nobuhiko. It could just as well have been Punyaa. Or the Australian surfer model from the sports drinks ad.

That pain again. He squeezed his eyes together and tried to relax his arm. Shortly afterwards he could feel the muscle loosening under the firm stroking movements of Alvar.

"Well, you survived your trip to hell!" Alvar put his hands on Olav's shoulders once more and squeezed lightly. "Everything is still in its right place and in top shape. If you take it a little easier tomorrow, the slight over-stimulation in your knee will have subsided by the next big sprint. And now," he threw Olav's bathrobe to him, "I'm going to send you to the sauna, so that your muscles can get warmed a bit. But not longer than 15 minutes, okay?"

Olav got up from bed lazily and slipped into the white bathrobe, which had the name of the hotel and four stars embroidered. Alvar opened the door and sent him out into the cool hotel corridor. Outside, Matti was already waiting for his treatment.

"Well, was it relaxing?" The gap between his teeth flashed.

Olav shrugged his shoulders. "Well... Alvar always acts so friendly and nice and is so good to you. And when you're really feeling good and relaxed and slowly glide over into the realm of dreams, he takes out his butcher knife and sends you straight into the depts of hell!"

Matti's smile died. The change of mood came so suddenly that Olav couldn't help himself but laugh.

"No, Alvar is really good at his job!" He put his hands in the pockets of the bathrobe and set off for the sauna. "And I really hope he can keep on doing this job for a long time... Yeah..."

Matti knew exactly what Olav meant. As Haakon had said before the start of the Tour: The shit was really hitting the fan. He opened the door to the shared room. Alvar was just about to wash his hands in the bathroom.

Matti turned to Olav, who was walking down the corridor to the sauna with hanging shoulders. "I," he shouted after him, "don't intend that my first year at Team Viking Spades will be my last!"

Olav stopped and also turned around once more. Matti had expected him to make a sad face, but the sprint star winked at him and raised his thumb: "I don't intend to believe that either!"

Matti's tooth gap flashed up again. He nodded at Olav and closed the door. Alvar was already waiting behind him, ready to take off his bathrobe. "Ready for your trip to hell?"

***

Olav hung the bathrobe to the others and threw a towel over his shoulders. He had lost his shame in taking a sauna long ago, because he had to go to the sauna with his Finnish and Swedish colleagues way too often. Even though he didn't really like it, he had already gone outside naked in the deepest winter to be beaten with birch branches by Sven or Lars afterwards.

But what else were you expecting to happen after one, two, three or four beers...

The smell of pine resin brought tears to his eyes. A wall of heat struck him as soon as he opened the door of the sauna. He couldn't see a thing, so he spread his towel on the first wooden bench he came across by accidentally hitting it with his shin.

Even with a towel under his butt, he could still feel the heat coming from the wooden boards. He wiped his wet eyes and tried to relax. He deeply breathed in the hot air and enjoyed the feeling of the bitter smell of resin flowing through him.

Soon his muscles loosened and he started to sweat. Olav stretched thoroughly and let himself fall on his back. As soon as he made himself comfortable lying on the wooden bench, he opened his eyes - and was suddenly wide awake.

Above him he saw something he had not expected. Well, actually he had already expected that in a spa hotel rented especially for the Tour de France, in a men's sauna, one or the other dick would appear before his eyes. 

But not THIS ONE. And not that big either.

The pale Chinese man looked at him in silence. There was no movement on his face, although he must have noticed that Olav must have been terrified at the sight of his privates. His colleague, who was less well-hung, said something in Chinese.

Olav didn't understand a single word and turned to the side, embarrassed. The hot stones crackled quietly while the two sprinters of the Diamond Dragons talked in unusual chant.

Olav did not know what they were talking about. They could have been making fun of him at that very moment, or just have talked about sweet and sour duck in Beijing style.

He sat up and smoothened his towel. The conversation fell silent and embarrassing silence spread.

It was him. It was really him! 

Butt number four - or simply: Peng Li, 22 years old and the winner of the last stage. The one who defied the cross wind and took Max Mustermann's yellow jersey like a winter storm as he crossed the finish line with a big lead over the German.

Peng Li, the one who wore a long asymmetrical step cut, which he usually tied up. And above all, Peng Li, the one who had a really impressive dick between his legs.

Olav knew that it had to be right next to his head. He did not dare to turn around even once, even though he would have loved to give in to this reflex.

But that was impossible! It was always said that Asians had much smaller cocks than Europeans! But if you look at his feet... They weren't exactly small either. Everything about that man was big. Very big...

Suddenly Li and his teammate stood up. The other one had narrow shoulders and curly, short hair. Everything about him was so delicate that he could have passed for a woman. 

As a woman without breasts and with a small package between his legs, while that of Li ... No, don't look at it now, Olav!

The two Chinese wrapped their towels around their hips and left the sauna silently.

Olav wanted to say something, but he was all choked up. His voice came back as the cool air came in from outside and while Li wanted to close the door again. "Congratulations on winning the yellow jersey!"

Li looked at him without expression.

Silence.

If Olav hadn't been sweating anyway, now he would have really broken out in a sweat.

What was going on inside that man?

Olav averted his eyes and tugged his towel. Li also turned away from him.

But just before the wooden door closed again, Olav thought he could hear his voice.

"Thank you."