Soo i've written only a few fanfictions the past few years and this is my very first attempt to write one about berlin and palermo - it's my absolutely favourite ship. English is not my first language, so please have mercy on my writing - i'm sorry for any mistakes. This chapter is really short, but the other ones will be much longer. Anyways, i hope you'll enjoy this one and feel free to tell me what you think about it :) I'm dedicating this to my lovely berlermo groupchat and obviously also for ever other shipper out there.

Andrés discovers how desperately Martín needs him.

Chapter 1

A Monastery is a very big and complex building comprising the domestic quarters of monastics, monks or nuns. It's typical for them to live there under certain rules. They have to remain celibate and own little or no personal property and most importantly: Most of them took a vow of silence. Andrés was really happy with his choice to buy this beautiful building, it was perfect. The only disadvantage was - the walls between the rooms are paper thin, so your sleep quality, time of sleep and awakening are dependent upon those in neighbouring rooms. This is made worse by the floors, which seem to echo between rooms. Every footstep from the next room is heard.

This is the reason why Andrés was suddenly awake, while his soon to be wife Tatiana was still peacefully asleep next to

him. He instantly knew whose screams the voice belonged to, so he was heading to his door to confirm his suspicions. He wasn't really surprised to hear Martín having sex. In the last few month, actually since he started to date Tatiana, Martíns sexual desire has increased enormously. He sneered at the thought of what kind of men's his compañero was brining home. Always tall, with dark brown hair and completely dump. He once talked with one of them and was a little surprised that his intelligent and wonderful engineer spends time with worthless, uncultivated pieces of shits.

"Amigo mío, tell me why a men like you, who's not only smart and wonderful - but also values the beauty of art, is dealing with such disgusting people" he said, with a hint of amusement and annoyance in his voice.

Martín actually had blushed a little bit at that. "You want to tell me that your taste is better than mine in terms of potential partners...do i have to remind you that your second Wife thought that Salvador Dalí was a fashion label? Not everyone has the same passion as we have mi amor."

After that he tried a few more times to convince his dear friend that he certainly deserved better than this. But then again, when he met Martín he wasn't that much into art as he was. Don't get it wrong, in any case Martín definitely was passionately about his work - his mind was something Andrés immediately loved and clicked with. But in the past years he tought him everything he knew about art and the true beauty of it, so his friend became a wonderful artist like he is.

The noises which woke Andrés up were almost completely gone by now. In the morning he would confront him, maybe even mock him why he would dare to disturb his important sleep. As he was turning back, he quietly walked on the cold monastery floor to his door again. He reached to the doorknob and the moment he wanted to open the door - he promptly stopped and froze.

"Aaah...Andrés...please"

He waited five more seconds and then carefully opened his door. He took of his dressing gown and slipped into his bed.

Tatiana immediately put her head on his chest again. "where have you been, i heard noises and you were suddenly gone" she mumbled sleepily.

"One of the monks dropped something. Don't worry, sleep now mi amor" he whispered back.

It was probably two in the morning, the curtains were closed and it was completely dark and silent in the room. If there was any light, maybe Tatiana would have seen the devilish grin that covers his face since he entered their room again. Maybe then - she would questioned it. She was asleep again, and Andrés had one arm around her body while his other arm was resting on his stomach.

He looked up at the beautifully decorated high ceiling of the monastery. He slowly closed his eyes and the sneaky grin was still there.

Martin and he would have an interesting conversation tomorrow.