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König grips his gun then jumps out the helicopter. His boots create imprints onto the muddy ground, the few grass strands that rise from the forest floor sticking to it. The wind blows against his mask, veiling then unveiling his stony eyes. He sucks in a breath and even behind his balaclava and hood he can taste the humid air. He frowns, his heart beating against his chest as his team moves in through the trees and toward the enemy territory. It’s his fault he shouldn't have left you even if you were adamant that you had the checkpoint secured. He should’ve stayed with you, the others already had called back up having them incoming shortly.
König spots the broken down concrete facility. During the briefing they had discussed that your capturers are holding you up there along with some others, soldiers including civilians. There will be two teams, one for you alongside the others, and the second for the organization's leader; the bastard's name being Bones. He had hoped he’d get the green light to kill the man, but they’ve gotten orders to capture him alive. König’s heart drops to his stomach as he continues taking down the enemies. The closer he gets to you the worse the uneasiness in his stomach gets. They’re hurting you and he wishes it weren’t the truth. He just hopes you’re okay. He’ll bring you back safely no matter what.
Your capturers mumble something that comes in incoherently in your ears. They move from the corner of the humid room towards you. You sit there on a metal chair under a single dim yellow light, your arms and legs tightly bound. They’ve starved you for a couple of days you’re guessing, you’ve lost count. Your body has no energy as you hang your head. Your usual pristine uniform catches your eyes. It’s now covered in old and fresh blood and dirt, soaked in water they keep drowning you with. You lift your fingers up one by one hoping you're at least still capable of doing so.
One of Bones lapdogs lifts your chin up with his pistol. The dried cuts on your face and neck stretch painfully as you do so. You wince and he laughs in your face, his spit hitting it. It’s something disgusting, but you’re so used to it now you don’t even flinch. “Now, like we’ve been over many times before. Where are the weapon cargos going?” Your busted lips don’t move as you stare at him with a blank face before answering him for the hundredth time. “I don’t know.”
“Like hell you don’t know!” he scoffs before speaking again, “You’re becoming useless to us you know.” The man puts his pistol back into his holster and pulls out a knife from his pants pocket. Your eyes draw to the knife, the pain coming back to you in flashes. You truly wonder if they’re doing this in hopes of actually gaining some intel or they’re just doing it because it relieves some of their stress. Without you realizing it, he uses his other arm to punch you in the face. You cough out in response, the taste of silver covering your tongue. The smirk on his face is the same as all the other ones you’ve been seeing. Full of shit and beyond repulsive.
You hate the confines you’re in. You hate the musty air filling your lungs. You hate that you can’t listen to König’s pretty voice telling you his dumb little stories. You miss him so much.
You struggle against your confines. The chair creaks in response and yet again nothing budges. The anger you first felt had eventually turned into motivation, but now the only feelings left are longing and frustration. You can feel the tears welling up and the sting at the back of your throat. The man holds the knife in between his face and yours. He presses the blade against your cheek and you know what’s incoming. It’s so sharp he barely has to dig it down from your cheek to chin to form a cut. Along with your new cut he opens the smaller ones littered on your face. You feel the harsh sting making you choke and hiss out in pain. As you wince, the warm blood quickly pools at your chin and drops down onto your lap.
The man gives you a pitying frown, “Aww, look at that we finally broke the little soldier.” The mocking laughs make you sneer as the hot tears roll down your cheeks. Despite all of the beatings you have been taking, this cut burns more than anything else. The salty tears don’t help either. The man snaps back into seriousness. He uses his dirty boot to shove your chair back. The metal legs of the chair scrape against the concrete before stopping when you hit the back wall. Your ears ring from the screeching and hard impact; you find yourself dizzier, the world suddenly spinning. It feels like your brains have been scrambled and fried.
You remember your training. You still find it in yourself to calm down, inhaling long and deep breaths through your nose then exhaling slowly from your mouth. You blurrily watch as your chest rises and falls. The man hooks his foot under one of the legs of your chair and drags it forward. You lift your head to stare at the man, he puts the point of the gun under your chin. You don’t flinch staring from the man in front of you to the man behind him. “I’m asking one more time before I fucking kill you. Where is the cargo heading to?” He closes his eyes and inhales a large breath when his question is met with silence. “What is your team planning with those weapons!?”
You spit on his face in return, a mix of saliva and blood. “I was not informed. So, politely fuck off,” you say bitterly. Using the back of his hand he wipes his face, chuckling as he does it. He removes the gun from your head with a pleased face, nodding his head in response. He turns around and beckons the other man over. You know where this is going. The other guy brings a damp towel and a jug of water in his hands. The man in front of you walks behind you and stands there. He then tilts your chair backwards, gripping your hair and straining your head further back. Your body aches but you shift around in your chair hoping to loosen his hold. He wickedly looks at you from above, “Still some fight, this’ll be fun.” The other man throws the towel on top of your face. Anxiety pricks up under your skin, you dislike the blindness it gives you. You won’t know your enemies next moves, you have to rely on your ears only. The clotting blood on your cheek cracks as you frown.
“If you survive this maybe we’ll give you a little food,” he adds, laughing at the end. His friend snickers along with him. Yeah, the last time they said that you got muck for lunch. You’ll escape before they get the chance to serve you that shit again. The water is cold against your face. It follows your every path as you move from left to right trying to avoid it. You can hear the water sloshing in your ears and feel your nostrils burning. You gasp for as much air as you can but the towel is glued to your face. You feel yourself getting lightheaded. It’s becoming too difficult for you and you know it’s a losing battle. “C’mon, we’ve only started. Fight… fight for it,” he commands.
The door to the cell abruptly opens and the drowning stops. The man lets your chair fall back into place as they yell about an intrusion. You shake the towel off your head and cough everything out. With red teary eyes you watch the three yell at each other. “Security at the front has fallen, they’re inside on the first floor! Orders are we fight!” The two grumble something as they move out. One of the men gives you one last look before leaving. When the door fully closes you let out a relieved sigh. Your body feels itself going numb, it’s unbearably cold.
The team has entered the building. There aren’t as many enemies guarding the inside, so clearing out the first floor is fairly a breeze. König is second on the stairs. When they hit the second floor his teammate gets shot down. König quickly takes out the two enemies guarding the right closet and left corner. He signals the soldiers behind him to watch the hallway so he can check up on his teammate. König turns towards the railing where the soldier lies. He grunts, one hand over his wound and the other giving a thumbs up. König nods then turns to another one of his team mates, “Get him to medical.”
Enemies lie behind every obstacle and his team easily takes them out. König takes the front, knocking open the cell doors one by one. At most there will be a singular enemy in the cell waiting to ambush. There’s no sign of you yet, but there’s still one cell left. That must be you in there, it has to be.
König’s heart drums against his chest. His palms begin to sweat beneath his gloves and he feels his breathing getting shorter as he reaches the door. He steadies himself then breaches the last door with his shotgun aimed for any last enemies. His heart stops as he lowers his weapon, it’s you. “Clear,” he says, “It’s Sergeant Moon.” His eyebrows relax but as he takes in your form a big frown makes its way on his face. His heart feels even heavier now. König takes big steps towards you, his shadow overlapping your figure. You crack your eyes open when you feel a large presence in front of you. You first notice the boots then the familiar cargo pants he always wears.
You take in his form as you look up at him. His eyes are shiny and bright contrasting the black eyeshadow surrounding them. A smile lights up your face and you don’t care how much it makes your cheeks burn. “König.”
König gets down on his knees and places his hand on top of yours. “It’s me, I’m here,” he whispers. He pulls his knife out from his belt and cuts the bounds around your wrists and ankles. You feel your vision fading, the tiredness overtaking, but you fight to stay awake. The tears fall from your eyes and König cups a hand on your better cheek. He rubs soft circles with his thumb, wiping your tears away. “Stay with me. I need you,” he mumbles. You nod in response knowing your voice will fail you. König stands to his full height, “Let’s get you out of here and back home.”
You attempt to stand up but your legs give out. You would have fallen over if it weren’t for König’s arm that had reached around you. You wrap your arm around his back and lean into his vested chest, long missing the warmth and feeling of his strong embrace. The rest of your team looks at you with sorrowful eyes. It makes you cower into yourself as the two of you walk to the helicopter. A special ops soldier like you shouldn’t have been captured. The capturers shouldn’t have been able to hurt you like this, but they did. They slipped through your fingers and had you cornered.
König watches you quietly as the medic fixes you up. It’s his fault. You wouldn’t have gone through this if he’d just been there for you. As the medic patches up the outer injuries he sees your eyes beginning to shut, and it’s not long after you pass out from pure exhaustion. He tears his eyes away from your sleeping form and looks out the windows. König’s leg subconsciously moves up and down as he waits for the landing at the safe house.
You wake up a couple of hours later in a bed. It seems the medic finished their job and changed you into a clean uniform. You see bandages around your arms as you reach up to touch your cheek. You barely put any pressure above the cloth but it still stings under your touch making you whimper. You see a dark figure in the corner of your eye as you take in your surroundings. It’s König sitting there on a chair. You stare at him with a smile, a small laugh making its way out of your mouth. He doesn’t quite fit on the foldable chair. His arms are crossed and his hooded head is leaning to the side uncomfortably. You can hear his deep and even breaths if you listen closely. König starts shifting around in his seat, mumbling something, before fully waking up. He immediately starts stretching out his body, his long arms hitting the back wall as he does.
He doesn’t seem to notice you’re awake. “Morning sleepy,” you greet him. König jumps in his seat almost falling over, cursing something in German not exactly directed at you. It leaves you laughing, slightly hurting your stomach but you don’t mind. You pull off the thin blanket, he sees you getting up from bed and stops you. “No, you should rest,” he quickly says before looking around, “And here have a cup of water.” You accept the water but continue to sit up, sliding your legs off the side of the bed. König gets up from his seat and looks at you worriedly, shaking both his hands out in front as you take sips of your water. “König I’m fine. Look, not dead.” He does look, but the worried eyes he gives you leaves you displeased. “Take a good look König,” you command nonchalantly. His eyes dart around your handsome face and he feels his own heat up from your intense stare. He quickly averts his eyes.
You use your free hand to pat the space next to you. “Sit down,” you offer. He takes it without a word, but keeps a considerable space between the two of you. You place the glass down onto the bed side table. König looks down at his boots, his feet shifting awkwardly as he picks at his pockets. You can read König like an open book. You reach your hand out and place it on top of his gloved one. “König, it wasn't your fault. None of it.”
He faces you, his eyes glossy and his voice small, “What do you mean, it clearly was. I left you there… there alone back at that checkpoint. You got hurt because of me. I- I’m so sorry.” You shake your head, your eyes soft. The guilt is eating him alive and you hate to see König so hurt, especially because of this. “It is not your fault, and don’t you dare believe it is for a second longer. I got captured, it happened, and there’s no changing that. But that’s the past. Alright?” You place a hand on his hooded cheek as he nods. “Okay,” he says reluctantly. You smile, you can already see his shoulders relaxing a bit.
König sees that pretty smile of yours return and it makes him feel a lot better. You’re right, there is no changing the past. He has you here now and that’s what matters. A smile reaches his eyes and you giggle as you rush in to give him a hug he doesn’t expect. The position is awkward but nonetheless his heart practically melts and butterflies form at the bottom of his stomach. Your arms are wrapped around his own and they don’t fully reach around his body, he chuckles letting you squeeze the life out of him. “I’ve missed you so much baby,” you mumble against his chest. He blushes at the pet name, it isn’t often you use them. You let go of him and look up into his pretty eyes. “Me too,” König stutters out.
He feels his heart going crazy. He’s not the greatest with eye contact when it comes to you. Ahh, he remembers he should definitely tell you the advice the medic had told him. But before he can speak you’re already saying something.
“You’re so pretty,” you tell him, adoration evident in your eyes. König’s eyes widen at the comment, he’s really too adorable when he’s nervous. He looks down sliding his boot across the floor making it squeak. “…Thank you.” You give a satisfied hum in response.
König watches you flop back onto the bed. You groan and it has him worried for a second. “Need to take a long steamy shower,” you grumble. König lets out a breathy laugh and it has your stomach doing backflips. “Not yet, the medic said to wait a couple of hours for your cuts to completely dry.” You pout, “Ugh, what now then?”
“Well…” König draws out, “Are you up for some MREs? Snacks?” He knows you haven't eaten well enough the past few days and he knows that you may not even have an appetite, but he wants you to know you have something available.
Even the taste of MREs is something you look forward to. You perk up at the idea, scooting yourself to the edge of the bed. “Yeah, no that sounds great actually. You’re a genius König. Let’s go,” you say, standing up. He proudly smiles at the praise and follows you out the door.
***
It’s been a month full of mental and physical check-ups, resting, and König following you around like a puppy at every given moment of his spare time. “König, don’t tell me you’re still worried about me.” You don’t even need to fully turn to your right to see him standing there. You continue your shooting at the dummies, each shot being fatal. He doesn’t speak so you put down your gun and take off the ear mufflers, setting them on the wooden table. “The mission is in three days. I’ve been cleared to go back on the battlefield. And I’m still fully capable as you saw.” König shakes his head. “It’s not about that, I’m fully aware you can take care of yourself. It’s just I’ve been busy on missions and you’ve been training. So, I.. I um, how about we-” König grumbles something you can’t hear, “Nevermind.”
You lift up an eyebrow, not comprehending what he wanted to tell you. “Alright then my love. Uhm,” you rip your gaze from König's frustrated form and try to rack your head around your plans for today. “Would you like to help me practice my close combat skills?” You wonder what’s got König so worked up. You usually like to wait until König is comfortable enough to tell you, but he sometimes appreciates it when you come around and ask him first. You don’t mind that he’s a bit shy, it’s endearing at most.
König stands up a little taller at your offer. “Sure,” he answers excitedly, practically jumping in his boots. You walk over to him and hold his hand leading the two of you out of the shooting range and to where the mats are placed. There are weights over to the right corner, a punching bag nearby and the large mat here to the left of the room. The two of you face each other ready to take on the challenge. “You’re going down König,” you dare. Out of the many times the two of you have trained together you’ve won about twice. Not the best stats but when it comes to a big guy like König you think it’s something to be proud of. König laughs, he knows you’re bullshitting, “We’ll see.”
Your fists are out in front, guarding you. You decide to make the first move. You take a step forward and aim for his face which he easily blocks. You go for another hit aiming for his stomach. He blocks that too. You throw a couple of more hits and only one or two hit. König attacks too, throwing a few of his own. You’re getting frustrated, he doesn’t seem to be getting affected by your hits at all. While you, there’s sweat beading on your forehead and his breathing is only a bit ragged. “König,” you warn. “What?” he asks innocently. Far from innocent, “I know you’re smiling under that hood.” The both of you converse while throwing punches and kicks. “Am not,” he teases.
You roll your eyes and as you do so König hooks his foot on your calf and trips you onto your back. He watches you land with a groan and immediately goes in to pin your arms above your head. “That was cheap,” you say squirming around. “It worked, no?” You pout, mumbling, “…It worked.” König feels a little pity for you. He stares down at your form trapped underneath his, so much smaller, and it brings a heat to the pit of his stomach. Having you under him, all to his mercy. The way you’re red and panting and looking up at him anticipating what’s next. König feels himself getting hard and his cheeks heating up. Distracted he loosens his hold on your wrists. To his surprise you pounce on him like a cat, knocking him over.
König lands on his own back this time with a grunt. You’re sitting on his thighs, very very close to his predicament. He bites his lip attempting to hold in his begging. “Gotchu,” you say smugly, crossing your arms. König doesn’t move, acting stiff as a board. His muscular thighs tense underneath you. Your face contorts into one of worry, probably from his quietness. You place a hand on each side of him and lean over to get a closer look at him. König’s breath hitches from the proximity and at this point he’s sure you can hear his heartbeat. “König, did I hurt you?” You place a hand on his hooded cheek while staring into his eyes, trying to read them. It’s getting more difficult for him to hold in his whines and control his desperation. “König? You okay, what’s wrong?” He takes a dry gulp then licks his lips. “I-I’m fine. Payback… you got me,” he stumbles, letting out an awkward laugh afterwards. You tilt your head at his odd reaction then lift yourself back up again. “You sure I didn’t give you a concussion or something?” you jokingly ask, but still concerned.
König silently shakes his head before squirming. He wants to get out of this situation as soon as possible but it doesn’t work the way he wants it to. You move slightly forward and touch where he needs it the most. A whine leaves his mouth and he moves a hand to clamp over his mouth. Your eyebrows raise when your ass is up against his bulge. But your surprise doesn’t last long and you start softly laughing. It makes König’s face burn even hotter. He knows you’re not laughing at him, but the humiliation is still there. As you settle down there’s a smile stuck on your face, “König,” you coo, “You’re too cute.” You reach over and grab his hand, removing it from his face and intertwining your fingers with his.
He seems to be struggling more now than he ever was when the two of you were just training. You put your lips to his ear. “Let me take care of you,” you whisper, grinding lightly against him. You feel his jaw tense against yours. “Please,” he whimpers. You pull your face away from his and look him in the eyes, his eyebrows downturned and his eyes glossy, “Good boy.” You lift yourself off of him and stand up. Tall above, you reach an arm out down to him. He grabs your hand and you pull him up. Even when he’s at his full height you continue holding his hand. “How does my room sound?” you tease. “Y-yeah, good…” he replies shyly.
You smile, with König’s hand in yours you lead him to your room.
***
The laptop lays on a pillow on the top of your thighs. You yawn as the two of you watch the movie, it’s something you randomly chose after scrolling your laptop. The both of you sit on your bed with your backs against the wall. Your feet hang off the edge and his more. You turn your head to König who’s totally immersed in the movie. König speaks up, “Who do you think killed him? I think it was Paul, he seems the type to get his revenge.” You lean your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes. “Personally, I think it’s Robert.”
König hums in response. You can tell he thinks your answer is stupid and it makes you smile. “Hey König, shouldn’t you be preparing with the other guys? For your mission tomorrow,” you add. You don’t want him to leave, but if he has to be somewhere you don’t want to be the one holding him up. It’s been rare the two of you have had time to spend together the past month. He’s been put on missions like crazy and it’s had you missing him so much more than usual. “We got it done earlier today,” thanks to him for doing most of it, he just couldn’t wait to finish so he could go see you. König was practically running to the shooting range where he knew you’d be. “Besides, I… I want to spend some time with you.” Something clicks in your mind and you lift your head off his shoulders to look at him. “So that’s what you were telling me earlier. You wanted to hang out,” you confirm, a big smile on your face. König tears his eyes from the screen to face you. Across his cheeks and his bumped nose, his face dusts a pretty pink. “..Yes.”
You give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t figure it out sooner.” König chuckles and it lifts all your worries away, “We hung out anyways.” He’s right. You hum and settle yourself back on König, letting yourself relax.