#heyooooooo it's been a while since these two have shown up in my writing thank you to the requester!

[sweetdreamhellofanight]

Caught in the Middle

Marcel Barthel, Fabian Aichner x Reader Warnings: None Word Count: 1,271 Summary: The three of you had tried something new last night, and it was no secret that it was good. [Requested]

It felt right. 

That’s what made you pause. 

In front of you, Marcel slept with his body pressed against yours, hair tousled from sleep. 

And behind you, Fabian’s arms held you tight, his face buried in the crook of your neck. 

You were stuck in place, the first awake, but you didn’t move, afraid you’d wake them up. 

You felt guilty for how good this felt, how good your entire body still felt after last night. 

Beside you, now, you felt Fabian begin to stir. 

Slowly, he sat up and stretched. You stayed in place, listening to him shuffle around the room, before the bathroom door shut quietly. 

Now, you untangled yourself from Marcel’s hands and got up. Picking up your clothes and dressing quickly, you left the room, walking into the living room flooded with morning light. 

Your head was still spinning, unsure what you wanted to do. 

You could leave, grab your things and go home and call Marcel later. 

You could stay, wait for them both to wake up and get ready and talk about it. 

But you weren’t sure you wanted to talk about it. 

You were still trying to figure out what it was. 

“Are you leaving?”

You jumped up at the sound of Fabian’s voice. 

“I…” you started, turning towards him. “Yeah. I think so.” 

He nodded. He played with the zipper of his hoodie nervously. 

“Do you need a ride?” he asked. 

You shook your head, 

“I’m okay.” 

He said nothing else, so you took your leave. 

But just as you walked towards the door, he spoke again.  

“I think you should stay,” he called out. 

You stopped, halfway to the door, 

“At least...until Marcel wakes up,” he added, looking at you. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you said, quietly. 

“Why not?” he asked. 

The nerves grew and your chest tightened. 

“Last night…” you started. 

“You didn’t enjoy?” he asked. 

You shook your head quickly, 

“I did,” you said, surprising even yourself. “I really did,” you added. 

But as you thought about last night, and how it felt when Fabian had first kissed you, the way your entire body felt like it was on fire, the way you couldn’t let go of him. 

And the way Marcel had smiled at you when he pulled your head back towards him. 

It was the first time he’d held you, but even now you knew that you belonged in Fabian’s arms just as much as you did in Marcel’s. 

“Then stay,” he said, softer this time. 

“Fabian…” you trailed off. 

He walked towards you, but stopped a few paces away from you. 

“Last night was good. We were good,” he said. 

“But it was a one-time thing, wasn’t it?” you asked. 

He shook his head, 

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said. 

You sighed,

“It’s not fair to Marcel,” you said.

“He didn’t seem to mind it last night,” Fabian said, a small smirk on his lips. 

And it made your head spin. 

The running joke had always been that Fabian and Marcel shared everything, but last night had taken it to a whole new level. 

And you couldn’t even feel guilty about it. 

Something in the back of your mind told you that you should, that it wasn’t fair, that it wasn’t right, that it was a one time thing that ended right here and right now. 

“He’s very important to me,” you said. 

“Me too,” he replied. 

And that was it. That was the whole issue. 

You loved Marcel. 

The three of you had tried something new last night, and it was no secret that it was good. 

It was so fucking good, you thought. 

But there was Fabian, standing in front of you and he wasn’t asking you to make a choice between them. 

He wasn’t asking you to leave Marcel. 

He was asking you to consider something new, something different. Something better. 

“He loves you,” Fabian said. 

You nodded. 

“And I love him,” he said. 

And that was the heart of this matter. 

You both loved Marcel. 

And Marcel loved both of you, too. 

And it wasn’t exactly what you’d imagined when you’d started dating him, but it was something you’d grown used to. 

The space between them was a perfect fit for you, you’d found over the years. 

And it was like you were always meant to be there with them like this, wrapped up in both their embraces’.  

He took another step towards you, and without hesitation, you took one towards him. 

“If you don’t want this,” he said. You watched his hand twitch at his side, as though he wanted to reach out to you, but stopped himself. “Just say so. I’ll leave it alone.” 

But you took his hand in yours, the tips of your fingers brushing over the palm of his hand, and took a deep breath, 

“I don’t know how to do this.” 

You looked up at him and he smiled, 

“Then we figure it out. Together,” he said, bringing your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand. “Please stay,” he whispered against your hand. 

You brought your other hand to his cheek and pulled him down for a kiss, soft against his lips. His hands found their place on your waist just as you pulled back, leaning your forehead against his. 

“I’ll stay,” you whispered, making him smile. 

“Good, because I can’t let you leave without breakfast,” Marcel said. You both turned to look at him, his hair messy, eyes still heavy with sleep, but smiling at the two of you. 

“You were gonna make me breakfast?” you asked, reaching out a hand for him. 

He scoffed, 

“No, I don’t cook,” he said, as though you should’ve already known that. “But Fabian does,” he finished. 

You looked back up at Fabian who winked at you, 

“Anything you want,” he said, kissing the top of your head. 

In front of you, Marcel pulled you close and kissed you, one hand on the back of his neck, the other hand still in Fabian’s. 

And it was as if this was normal for you three, as though you’d done it a million times over. 

“You were so good last night,” he whispered against your lips, “and we want you to stay. Please.” 

“I will,” you replied. “I love you,” you whispered to him. 

And with Fabian’s hand still in yours, you turned to him and said it to him, too, because you knew there was no better time than now. 

“I love you, too, Fabian,” you said. He kissed your forehead, untangling his hand from yours. 

“Sit, I’ll make us breakfast.” 

And you did sit down. 

On the counter, swinging your legs, while Fabian moved around you while Marcel left to wash up. It was quiet between you two, and you were sure that the hesitation, the awkward nerves of the first time, the first morning together, would fade eventually. 

But you found peace in this moment, watching him work, his back turned towards you, setting a mug of coffee down beside you while he tried not to let anything burn. 

And slowly, the day moved forward, and the three of you found your rhythm with one another. 

There would be a period of adjustment, you told yourself, but lounging on the couch, your head in Fabian’s lap, Marcel’s hand tracing circles absentmindedly on your legs, watching TV together, something told you that this was right. 

That everything about you three would lead you here, eventually. 

And though it was only the beginning, it already felt like home.