Work Text:
The start of it was a quiet murmur, between tangled limbs and slow, even breathing. It was König's nose tucked into a shower-damp mohawk, an arm held around his middle, a leg thrown over his hip. Miles of bare skin pressed to his own, curled around him with impressive tenacity.
"I want to be yours," he whispered, barely audible even in the quiet of the room.
Still, it was enough to rouse John, whose movement in turn attracted Simon's attention.
"Ye can be ours, whenever you want, sweet thing."
The arm around his waist tightened minutely, the thumb of one large hand brushing kindly over ribs that were still mottled with yellowing bruises from last week's mission. The memory, the fear of loss, the feeling of time running out – the softness of the action tipped Klaus over the edge.
"I want… I want you," he whispered, because he did. He wanted this, this easy comfort. He wanted to drown between warm bodies and wake up to the sort of adoration he thought only existed in fairy tales.
Then Simon squeezed him, shuffling as if to press even closer until their bones fused together. "You have us, love," the rumble of his voice was as soothing as ever, like it could physically soak away the tension that always lingered in the taller's shoulders.
It was simple, to give up that final barrier. To put a name to what they had, to the thing that Simon and John had given him months ago.
Still, it couldn't stop the trickle of fear that came with the first "Ich liebe dich" that he gave.
~~~
Honestly, not much changed in the weeks following that. It showed König just how much he had already given to the two – how much they had given to him, in turn. He hadn't even known, hadn't realized how close he had grown to them.
And yet- something did change, around base. Now John had explicit permission to crawl into his lap and get comfortable. Now Simon could stick closer, a hand on his lower back to guide him, stake his silent claim in front of others.
It made König shiver every time, leaning into their touch, warm with the knowledge that he was someone's. That he had a place to return to.
He ignored the thoughts that slipped in between, as best he could. The half-relieved, backhanded reassurance that he wasn't too broken, too strange to be loved.
Sometimes those thoughts were easier on him than others. Sometimes they weren't so cruel, when Simon tangled his fingers through his hair, or when John decided to seek him out and curl into his side for hours of quiet affection. He could forget the feeling of being abnormal and settle into their love.
Even that came with its own anxieties, though. Now he couldn't pretend that he was just an outsider that got to see the soft moments between the two. Now he had a place with them.
Now he… he was theirs. He was their lover, their partner.
He couldn't explain why it simultaneously made him feel warm, and made his skin crawl. This was everything he had wanted with them. He had put his trust and his heart in their hands long before this, long before they knew anything of the trauma of his past, and they had always made him feel comfortable.
There was no reason for it, no need for him to feel like this.
Yet, there were still days where his skin crawled at the thought of being under anyone's attention. Days where he just wanted to lay in bed and sleep, stay alone and isolated. It used to be so easy, before.
When he wasn't theirs.
Guilt crawled up his throat at that. It felt like some sort of betrayal, made him feel like a fraud for leading the two men on. How could he not want to spend time with them? When they were the ones that put so much effort into making him feel comfortable, when they were the ones that had waited for so long for him to come to a decision. It wasn't fair to want to pull away after everyone they had done for him.
It wasn't like he didn't enjoy his time with them either. Whether it be meals spent together, movie nights, sex, even just hours existing next to each other, it was good.
König just… felt exhausted. Wrung out, in a way he couldn't quite explain.
So he gave little excuses. Feigning sickness, or a more physical exhaustion, previously made plans – the guilt started to weigh more and more heavily on him. It made those nights where he slipped away less about spending quiet time alone, and more about his own spiraling thoughts as he wallowed through them.
It left him on edge, drowning, unable to truly rest.
He thought, mournfully, that it was a stupid way to end such a good thing.
~~~
Ghost knew that something was going on with Klaus.
He wasn't entirely sure when it changed, but there was a definitive before and after.
The before was having König settled beside them, between them almost every night. It was quiet moments stolen together, leaving a hand on the other's thigh and feeling the weight of the man against his shoulder.
The after was colder, turning his head to whisper to an ear that was suddenly no longer there, holding Johnny close and feeling a distinct absence of warmth at his back. It was suddenly having to wonder when they had last been alone with the Austrian.
König was avoiding him, which made him worried enough, feeling that vague pit in his stomach of something going wrong. Ghost was always worried that he would manage to scare the ones he loved away. He worried about it enough with Johnny – even when they had been through hell and back together. Someone newer, someone as anxious and already obviously burdened as König couldn't fare much better, in his eyes.
But when he figured out that the man was also avoiding Johnny, that feeling only became worse. Ghost could come up with a thousand reasons that König could've been avoiding him, but Johnny? Ghost couldn't come up with a single good reason that the man would be running from the single reason for everything good in the Brit's life.
And worse still, he didn't know how to fix it. He didn't even know what was wrong, outside of the hole that was being left by his side.
Johnny had always been enough, was always enough, but Ghost missed the taller man. He could tell that König's absence was getting to the sergeant, too.
"D'ye think we did something wrong?" Johnny's voice was quiet, nose tucked against Simon's jugular. Teeth close enough to sink in and tear – but only if the Scot was so inclined, because Simon wouldn't do a damn thing to stop him. He'd probably deserve it anyway, for any number of things.
But what Johnny asked was the same thought that had been spiraling through his own brain for days. He didn't think that either of them had changed their behavior much since they had properly added König into their relationship, outside of the PDA. But they had talked to König about that, made sure he was okay with it – they had even worked out ways for him to subtly tell them to back off in front of others.
As far as Ghost could tell, and as far as he could remember, none of those signals had been given. Klaus was always pushing back into the contact, stepping closer as if he couldn't get enough touch and attention.
"I don't know, Johnny." His fingers curled around the back of the sergeant's neck and held him closer, trusting the man and his teeth so close to everything tender. "We need to talk to him, though."
He felt the Scot hum and nod against him, pressing him down to rest against his own bedsheets. "Tomorrow, aye?"
"Tomorrow," he whispered in return, welcoming the weight of his sergeant's body without complaint.
They would figure out what was haunting their third. They would help, and step through whatever trials awaited them – hopefully together, but Ghost would take whatever he could get.
~~~
Unfortunately, 'tomorrow' never came. A mission cropped up unexpectedly, an emergency operation that had them flying in nearly blind, with not nearly enough reliable intel.
It turned into a bloody shitshow of course, and had Johnny being flown out on a goddamn stretcher, and König's arm left in a sling.
Safe to say, it left Ghost's nerves shot to hell and back. Spiraling into his own head and the pits of survivors' guilt that still felt like a cesspool he could never truly escape. It had him wanting to pace outside Soap's door in the medical wing like a guard dog until he made a full recovery.
The conversation promised for 'tomorrow' should've happened days ago, but – at the very least – the shitshow of a mission seemed to have brought König back to their side once again. The time that he had been gone for was acknowledged with no more than a "we missed you", whispered in the near silence of Johnny's room while they both sat beside the injured man.
For a while, things more or less went back to normal. Back to the before, with König slipping between them as naturally as ever, almost clinging to both of them.
Simon half assumed that whatever issue the man had been going through had been shaken off in the wake of nearly losing Johnny. Maybe- maybe he had been having second thoughts on the relationship, and the scare had reminded him what he had to lose.
It was probably foolish to hope that things would be fine after that.
To be fair, things were alright again for almost two full weeks before the backslide started up again. This time Ghost paid more attention to König and his excuses to slip away.
“I think I ate too much,” sheepishly murmured after dinner before he took his leave, despite having eaten only half his usual portion.
“Sorry, I think I am just tired tonight,” quietly whispered with a kiss goodnight, though Ghost swore he saw the man’s light on under his door hours after that on his way past.
“Not feeling well, lieutenant,” apologetic before slipping out of Simon’s arms.
And soon enough it was back to the after. All the distance between them, with both him and Johnny left worrying in their free time.
It was only when Johnny was able to unwrap his wounds and show off his scars, and König’s arm was finally let out of its sling that they had that conversation.
“König,” Ghost called quietly, approaching the man in the mess hall. It was barely lunch, and it seemed like the Austrian had already eaten most of his plate. “Come to my room when you’re done.”
Automatically he could see the man gearing up for some sort of avoidance, his eyes full of that guilt that had been slowly building.
“We need to talk, love,” he continued, voice dropping to a whisper. A hand rested at the back of König’s neck, gently squeezing – hopefully it came across as a reassurance. Though with the way that the man stiffened up, he wasn’t sure that it worked all too well.
“J-ja, will do,” he agreed with a stutter, his head tilting as if to look up at Ghost, though his gaze failed to actually meet his.
Ghost left him with another gentle squeeze.
It was nearly half an hour before Klaus actually arrived, with his ever-timid knock on the door. By that time Johnny was stretched out over the bed and napping, stretched out so that his shirt rode up to show a tempting sliver of skin just below his navel.
Simon led Klaus over to the bed and sat him down next to Johnny, who woke at the motion and lazily threw an arm over the Austrian’s lap as greeting. For now the Brit stood back, leaning against the dresser, unsure where to settle – he didn’t want to crowd Klaus, but he didn’t want this to feel like an interrogation either.
“You… you wanted to talk…?” The man was so quiet that Simon nearly couldn’t hear him. It felt like an oddly silent sort of landslide, seeing months of progress start falling away.
Simon had no idea how to tackle it, to stop Klaus from falling apart under the stress he was under. The stress that he had put the man under. He mentally kicked himself – he could’ve started this easier than an ominous “we need to talk”. Nothing good ever starts like that.
Thankfully, Johnny was there to soothe over it. He had always been better at this than Simon, anyway.
The Scot hummed, his head still situated somewhere beside Klaus’s hip as he fumbled for the taller man’s hand. “Aye, jus’ wanted tae check in on ye, seemed like ye’ve been strugglin’,” his voice slurred, words only half recognizable between the man’s tiredness and accent.
Klaus paused, almost seeming frozen as he fiddled with Johnny’s fingers. “I- I don’t know,” he whispered.
“Wha’s been going on?” Johnny shifted, wiggling a bit further down the bed so he could prop his head up on one hand and look up at Klaus. “We’re here to listen, ye ken? If there’s anything we can help with.”
“I do not know,” the taller man stressed, one of his legs starting to rock back and forth. “I just- I do not- it’s not like I don’t-”
Simon watched, the ache in his chest starting to pull taut as Klaus clearly struggled to control his breathing. Five counts in, eight out, over and over. Johnny’s head dipped back down, resting his cheek against the man’s thigh so he wasn’t left staring. Perhaps he should do something similar, but he couldn’t help but want to watch. See all the little expressions flickering over Klaus’s face and try to guess what they might mean.
The scrunch of his brows, the trembling of his lip, all clearly distressed. But why, what was happening in that head that had made this all so hard?
God, if only he could dip his fingers into Klaus’s chest and scoop out all the pain there. He wished that he could help in such a physical way – like amputating an infected and useless limb. Getting rid of all the things that haunted Klaus. Precious, quiet Klaus, with hilariously out-of-nowhere questions that he pulled out of thin air. Vicious, delightfully petty König that happily became a living battering ram on the field to protect his fellows.
The silence was broken again by Klaus clearing his throat – a small cough, before he continued. “I do not mean to avoid you- I still enjoy our time together, I still love you, both-” his voice grew tight, nearly cracking before he paused. “I do not know why I n-need so much- so much time-”
“Klaus,” Simon interrupted, guilt again digging into his gut when the man nearly flinched. Pieces seemed to be slotting together, though – annoyance settling in when he realized how simple this all was. “Were you just trying to take some time alone?”
A pause, and then the Austrian nodded as his hair fell into his face. It made some sense – before they had made their relationship official, Klaus hadn’t stuck close so constantly. They had always allowed him to slip in and out of their presence as he wanted. When those times apart started closing, Simon had assumed that it was by Klaus’s own volition. They hadn’t talked about it, neither he nor Johnny realized that they needed to.
Johnny turned over to look up at him, smiling softly. “Alright then, you can do that,” the shorter man said simply, which seemed to startle Klaus more than anything.
“I- I know that it is annoying, I am sorry- you two are so good to me, I-”
“None of that, precious,” Johnny interrupted again, softer than Simon could manage. “Ye never need to apologize for needing your own time. Simon does it all the time.”
“But not for so long,” Klaus choked out, tears beginning to gather in his eyes. “Not for- for the entire day, not like-”
Johnny reached up, just as Simon was about to step forward. He wasn’t sure that the closeness would be welcome at the moment, no matter how Klaus always seemed to crave it. The Scot sat up and held Klaus’s face in his hands. “If you need the entire day, you can take the entire day. Just tell us and we’ll back off.”
Simon couldn’t quite see the expression that the Austrian gave, but it had Johnny cooing gently, wiping away his tears with his thumbs.
“You’re alright, precious. There’s nothing wrong with needing tae be alone for a while,” he said.
Klaus seemed to all of a sudden slump into his hands. “I just- I love you, I do not want you to think that I am pulling away because of that, it just- I need- it is so hard,” he whimpered, tears slipping down his cheeks around Johnny’s thumbs.
“Don’t need to explain yourself, Klaus.” This time Simon couldn’t keep himself from stepping forward and running his fingers through the taller man’s hair.
It brought those green eyes up to his own, overflowing with tears and looking so scared and heartbroken. He sat down on the bed and slotted himself next to the Austrian, arm wrapped around him.
The tightness in his chest eased up some when Klaus slumped against him, head gently knocking against his chin as if the giant was trying to hide against him. It eased even more when Johnny squirmed himself into their space, half laid over both of the taller men’s laps.
For several minutes there was only a long silence that settled between them, broken only by Klaus’s quiet sniffles. It felt heavy, crushing almost – Simon found himself opening his mouth without thinking.
“I asked the surgeon if I could administer my own anesthetic,” he started.
Klaus tipped his head up, seeming confused – Johnny just groaned and squirmed around to pinch Simon’s thigh in retaliation.
“He told me to knock myself out.”
It took a moment to hit, but then he watched as a small smile seemed to be shocked onto Klaus’s face in his surprise, and Johnny’s head smacked into the center of the Brit’s chest.
“I can’t believe ye, when will you get better jokes?” The sergeant cried out in distress against him, shaking his head.
“No, no, I liked that one. It is clever,” Klaus said with his small grin.
Simon chuckled at the noise of betrayal that Johnny gave without bothering to pull away from him quite yet. “Thought you’d appreciate it.”
Klaus again leaned in to bump his head against his chin, and Simon leaned into the contact.
“Do ye want to stay, Klaus?” Johnny spoke up from where he was still half laying over their laps. Simon doubted the position was comfortable, but the Scot didn’t seem like he was going to complain. “Ye don’t have to- can leave whenever you want.”
The tallest of them paused, but shook his head. “I- I want to stay. Maybe later…?”
Following Johnny’s lead, Simon nodded. “You can head out whenever, love. You won’t hurt our feelings.”
Klaus nodded, and shuffled over to lay down completely, which automatically had Johnny shuffling over to lay on top of him and resume his nap.
For now, Simon stayed sitting up next to them. He could let them doze off, keep watch for the demons that frequently prowled any soldier’s nightmares. He was just happy to understand what had been haunting Klaus for so long.
~~~
After that, things still weren’t… easy.
Not that Klaus had expected it to be. One conversation and a few hours of reassurance wasn’t going to fix everything. He still didn’t know how to simply refuse their invitations, and still felt the urge to make excuses as to why he wanted to be alone. It was like trying to scramble up a too-steep sand dune, clawing and slipping down the slope when he tried to make progress.
It helped that Simon and John were so understanding. Just like they had been proved time and time again, things were different than his previous attempts at relationships – all the way back to Scott who would pester him about spending every second they could together with their strict parents. He wasn’t used to being able to just… spend a day away. He could breathe, and not having to worry about how much time he had to spend with them in order to be good enough for them.
Klaus had taken a few days away from the two of them when they had first talked about it. A full reset, John had called it. Stress-free time to let everything settle, reaching out when and where he felt like it, and when he felt ready he had returned. From there he did his best to find the balance that he needed. Going back to his room early, skipping out on heading to Simon’s room during lunch for privacy, taking the odd day away when he felt that gentle pressure of wanting to be alone.
And every single time, they welcomed him back after his time spent alone with open arms, loving as ever. Just as loving as they had been, even before he could call them his. They didn’t judge him, or feel offended by his needs.
It never truly got easier – but over the following weeks, stuttered excuses pleading tiredness faded away and turned into apologetic smiles and a simple, “not tonight.”
Now he was feeling a different sort of hardship as he stared at his phone, fingers resting over his neck where he felt the urge to scratch. To dig his nails in and tear until he could perhaps bleed out the discontent that sat under his skin.
John (Soap): Movie night?
König: Not feeling it tonight, sorry
John (Soap): Alright, no worries!
John (Soap): Next time then, whenever you’re feeling up to it ;)
It was an exchange they had shared a couple of times now. Sometimes when all Klaus wanted was to hide away in his room, and John would reach out with silly memes and delightfully horrible jokes from Simon. It was a good balance, keeping contact without any of the stress that came with leaving his room or actually interacting with other people. Even ones that make Klaus as happy as the two of them did.
He was learning to let go of the guilt that threatened to choke him, little by little.
Still, there were bumps and challenges along the way. Like there was now.
This time he was the one that had asked to be left alone, for the second day in a row. John had extended the offer of a movie night as he always did with any activity, making sure that Klaus was always welcome to join him and Simon.
He hadn’t intended on joining them, either. He was content with the thought of sleeping in a comfortably cool bed until morning, and slinking over to the lieutenant’s room in the morning with breakfast for all three of them, as he occasionally did when things were slow for them around base.
That had been the plan, all the way up until Klaus suddenly felt his mood dip. What had been a peaceful night turned into an unexpected downward spiral, catastrophizing over things that shouldn’t matter.
For as much as Klaus knew that he didn’t need to sit through the crashing waves of self hatred alone, he was awfully aware that he had already turned down John’s offer to join them. He knew that he had already turned it down, and very probably changed their plans for the night in some way. It felt like he had already shut out his own spot beside them for the night.
Logically he knew that wasn’t the case. He knew that he could simply text John and change his answer, and they’d welcome him without a second thought. Hell, he didn’t even need to text them beforehand, he knew that.
But god, if it wasn’t the hardest thing to swallow as shaky fingers typed out a message.
König: Actually, do you think I could join?
Almost two hours after John’s last message. Maybe they would be done with their movie by now, settling in to sleep, maybe they wouldn’t even see the message until the next morning and it wouldn’t matter anyways.
He clicked his tongue, back and forth, a nervous habit mimicking the tick-tock of old grandfather clocks at a too-fast pace. Sighing and tossing his phone to the side as he shook out his sweating hands and tried not to sob. God, he felt pathetic like this. He shouldn’t be so worried about asking to spend time with his own boyfriends.
He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, and somehow that circling thought was the thing that spurred him to his feet. Klaus felt his phone buzz and glanced at the notifications, but didn’t see the blocky text bubble icon that would indicate a reply from John.
So he left, stepping out of his room and heading down the hall. Just around the corner and into the little alcove that held Simon’s door.
There he froze, doubt and guilt and half-formed thoughts of hatred directed at whatever thing in the universe made him this way flashing through his mind.
Until he knocked on the door, scared to be too loud in case the two were sleeping.
Thankfully there was only a handful of seconds before it opened, John peeking out through the cracked door. Upon seeing Klaus he seemed surprised, happily so, swinging the door fully open with a grin.
“Klaus? Decided to join us?”
“Ja,” he confirmed, almost breathless with a relief he couldn’t fully define.
John just grinned and took his hand, leading him over to the bed. Simon was laid out on his back, laptop balanced on his stomach – he waved a greeting, looking rather tired.
“Hey love,” the Brit greeted quietly.
Klaus gave him a smile in return, and slid in behind John. He was content to simply sling an arm around the Scot’s waist and hold him close as the movie continued playing. It felt like the simple presence of the other two was an immediate balm, calming the sting of his spiraling mind.
Like this he could remind himself that he was wanted and welcomed – he was loved, here. He felt it in the way that John’s fingers threaded through his own, squeezing as if reminding the Austrian of it as well.
As the movie played and tiredness pulled at his bones, he tucked his nose against the softness of John’s hair and breathed deep. There were many things he struggled with, of course, but he knew with a strange certainty – he could trust in these two hearts he had tangled himself in.