Work Text:
Suppressed gunshot. Muffled thud.
« Clear »
A familiar, Austrian-accented voice over the comms breaks the silence that has fallen back in the building. That was the last room left – mission is done, they can head back to base at last.
It hasn’t been anything out of the ordinary, nothing König and Lynx haven’t seen hundreds of times already. The most difficult bit has always been them cooperating. Their superior officers – and everyone else on base — have noticed how little they go along, how their bickering is a constant background noise whenever they happen to be in the same room, how they were this close to beating the shit out of each other on more than one occasion. It was almost too late when Lynx found himself cornered between a wall and König’s much bigger frame, a snarl between their scarred lips and their eyes frenzied in a way that turned Lynx’s stomach upside down. That made Lynx’s heart skip a couple of beats, without mentioning the knife pressed to his throat, the icy steel just a breath away from his bare skin. That was the only time Lynx had been genuinely scared of König, and refused to acknowledge any other emotion that their gestures might have roused somewhere deep in his belly and abandoned them there, coiled like a sleeping serpent.
The agreed upon solution to try and put a stop to their endless quarreling was forcing them to work together, putting them in the “cooperate or get killed” type of situation. That way, they would get their priorities straight once and for all and avoid getting them and their whole team in danger because of their own personal disagreements. So far it worked, and each and every time they brought the other back alive, even if not without the usual tension between the two of them.
« No witty remarks? No “watch and learn”? Who are you and where’s the real König? », Lynx teases as usual. Most days, he likes to dig his feline claws into König’s rejection as a sniper, right where it stings the most for them, given how Lynx is a sniper himself. On their part, König buries their knife deep into what they like to call Lynx’s cowardice and his preference for keeping at a distance from the real deed while they dive head first into action – a constant back and forth of taunts aimed at each other’s weak points.
Where Lynx lacks in the empathy department, he makes up with intuition, and even though he’s mocking, his subconscious already picked up that a silence so heavy and so unbroken isn’t what he should be hearing. This could very well be the old “ignore him” tactic, but something doesn’t sit right with Lynx. One just doesn’t resort to childish techniques when the mission is still not officially over, and he knows for sure König wouldn’t, not while they’re in the field. He’s one room away from König, only a handful of meters behind – no sign of living enemies, no sound except his own breathing and his boots against the dust on the floor. He advances, weapon ready, noticing a smear of fresh blood on the wall. A few drops here and there on the floor too. It seems nothing to worry about, given the body count they are leaving behind. Lynx’s green eyes dart to the far end of the next room, where the faint light from outside is blocked by König’s sturdy shadow, broad shoulders slouched ever so slightly. They’re standing still, a dead body at their feet and their hand gripping the splintered wood of the doorframe. They raise their other hand from their side, their glove drenched in blood.
« König … ? »
Lynx doesn’t hide how puzzled he is as he calls them out. He steps closer to König and he has to make a conscious effort to move his gaze from König’s bloodied hand to their hooded face, as he reaches just their shoulders in height. He curses the inability to see what their expression is, having to rely only on their words to understand what is going on.
Was it König’s blood I saw back there?
« Heilige Scheiße … Got knifed real good here »
A faint laugh follows König’s confirmation of Lynx’s fears, snapping him out of his own thoughts. It twists in a sharp pained hiss, while König tightens their left hand on the doorframe as they lean into it. Lynx feels his stomach coil and ache with sudden worry, his heartbeat quickening. He has no idea where this reaction comes from, as it’s not the first time he finds himself in such a predicament, on both sides of the problem. The deep scar on the side of his face is the living proof of it. The time he got that wound had been a particularly close call, but even then he managed not to lose his cool. He doesn’t know why his fingers tingle with anxiety as he moves even closer to König, shifting his eyes from their face to their side and back.
« Jesus fuckin' Christ, how bad is it? How long ago– is it your blood back there? »
He bombards König with his questions, waving a hand in the direction he just came from in his hasty attempt to assess the situation as fast as possible.
Can they make it to our rendez-vous point? I hope they do, I can’t carry the bloody bastard. It doesn’t look too bad, right? They would have told me if it was too bad. How’s the blood loss? Are we sure we’re clear? Are we sure we aren’t going to get shot into oblivion while–
« Could be… I thought I could hold on until we got out of here– » König’s voice sounds more hushed, weaker than usual, lacking their trademark battlefield boldness, as if they’re almost feeling guilty for having underestimated the gravity of their wound, almost admitting they may not have enough strength left to carry themself out of the building. Lynx pulls their hand away from their side, holding it in the tightest grip, while his gaze darts back to König’s after taking in how much blood is seeping through their gear – a blade got through it, insinuating below the ribs, and got yanked out.
Motherfucker couldn’t leave it in the wound, fuck him.
He puts König’s hand back to their side, keeping it in place with his own before looking them in the eye. He sees how König is not really there, eyes lost somewhere above Lynx’s shoulders, and if they already look so lost the situation is way worse than they both would like it to be.
« I’m afraid I’m gonna need your help here », König feebly admits as their knees almost give out. They reach for Lynx’s shoulder and clutch it in the tightest yet shaky grip to do their best and stand on their own feet, but they find themself relying more than they’d like to Lynx’s strength to keep themself upright.
« I fuckin' hate you, you know that? », Lynx hisses, but his arm’s iron grip is already at König’s side. Still, he’s clumsy and telling that he isn't struggling would be a blatant lie. He curses his much smaller frame and wishes he could just haul them over his shoulder and carry them to a safer spot until help comes. Their rivalry shifts to the background in the moment Lynx realizes that the risk he might lose the other is very much a possibility. He just has to be sloppy with his actions, to waste precious time with his usual rebukes. He might be nothing but a brat to König, but he knows damn well how to be extremely efficient and professional on the battlefield. He switches channels on his radio, reaching out to the rest of the squad out there in the buildings nearby.
« König’s wounded, losing blood– requesting medical support now »
Lynx’s voice cracks on his last word, but he has not the time to worry about how distressed he might sound. He packs as much information as humanly possible about their situation and whereabouts in the smallest amount of words, as fast as he can. The knowledge that it is on him only to keep König alive and breathing until help comes is heavy on him – support is ten minutes away at the latest, they confirm. He’s not the best person to take care of any wound and he knows it, given his bare-bones first aid skills, and ten minutes sounds like forever, but he’d be damned if he loses a fellow soldier during a mission. He’d be damned if he loses König.
He manages to find a nook where they both have their shoulders covered and where Lynx can keep a watchful eye on the entrance at the same time. He stumbles through the room to their safe corner, but never loses his grip on König even if, between their weight and his own gear feeling heavier than ever, Lynx is starting to doubt his own strength. He manages to settle König sitting with their back against the wall and kneels beside them, yanking his own battered scarf from his neck. It’s dirty, dusty and frayed, but it’s the closest piece of cloth he can put his hands on and use to press down on that nasty wound. König’s hand is on his at once, holding to it for dear life, and Lynx’s breath catches in his throat at the sight of this soldier he thought invulnerable holding on to him as if he were truly their only lifeline and not just a placeholder until the med team reaches them. He realizes he can’t look at König as he’d want to from the angle he’s in, and he shifts, his hand staying safely in place. He settles his knees at König's sides, straddling them but careful not to weigh on them, so as to face them and make sure they don’t slip away. König is resting their head against the wall and when Lynx looks at them their eyes are fluttering closed, even though the grip they have on Lynx’s hand assures him that they still have some fight left in them.
« Eyes on me », Lynx says to get their attention, and König blinks a couple times as they find their focus again. Lynx is getting frustrated at the other’s face covering, it makes it harder to keep them in check. He raises his free hand, brushing his fingers on König’s hood, faltering in his gesture, unsure if he should just tug it away despite whatever they might think.
How can they possibly breathe under all that?
Lynx justifies with that single thought the decision he takes, in fact, in split seconds. He fumbles with the straps of König’s helmet, struggling with only one hand, setting it on the side, and tears off their sniper hood, lifting their balaclava up and tossing it somewhere behind him. He can finally see König’s face, their ashy cheeks, black camouflage paint smudged with sweat and messy chestnut hair falling over their watery blue eyes. Their brows furrow in confusion, but their scar-marked lips bend in the faintest smile.
« What are you doing? », they ask, sounding almost amused. The usual König would have sounded way more pissed and Lynx wonders if the blood loss is already getting to them. It only lasts a second, as he meets König’s gaze and takes in their rather disheveled appearance. It’s not the first time he has seen their face, but he feels his stomach squeeze in a way he doesn’t want to pinpoint, and his answer lags a second too much for it to be not perceived.
They’re handsome, even like this. Goddammit.
« You want to choke under all that or what? », he snaps, chasing away whatever annoying feeling he refuses to name he’s being plagued with. His words are met with a low chuckle, as König appears to find Lynx’s ill-concealed worry entertaining, but their body doesn’t agree with them. Their smile twists in a pained grimace and their free hand reaches up and squeezes Lynx’s arm as they try to catch their breath, their eyes now teary with pain.
« Hey, hey, hey. I’ve got you »
Now Lynx's voice is nothing more than a hushed whisper as he shifts and grabs König’s shoulder. Despite his old, familiar troubles with maneuvering through emotions, feelings and proper reactions to people’s behavior, he seems to understand that König doesn't need his snark right now. He must at least pretend to be helpful, in a way that goes beyond making sure they don't bleed out, especially now that they lock eyes again – König’s are wider and more scared, as if panic, slow but relentless, is finally creeping in. Lynx has never seen them so vulnerable, even though he knows every single one of their weak points like the back of his hand by now. Even his cold, dead sniper heart recognises he should grant König some closeness, be it only for the handful of minutes between them and the incoming support, just not to leave them alone with his own blood seeping out as their only warmth. He sighs as if he’s gathering the courage to tap into his most human, compassionate side, as he raises his hand from König’s shoulder to the nape of their neck, fingers tangling in their sweaty hair. He brings their foreheads together, even though they are not really touching as Lynx is still wearing his helmet – a whispering, intrusive thought tells him he should just get rid of it, let them get even closer. Only in that moment, when he can feel König’s breath on his own skin, Lynx realizes his heart is racing, his pulse hammering at the base of his throat.
« Are you pretending to give a shit about me just because I’m dying? »
Lynx is startled by the sharpness of König’s question, as he got so lost into his own mind trying to find a way to comfort them that doesn’t require using his words – gestures, although still difficult to navigate, come easier to him than trying to find the most suitable words. Even though he shouldn’t be surprised by the fact that König knows with precision that their circumstances are not the best, he feels a sudden twist in his guts that compels him to speak, if not to silence König’s thoughts, to silence his own.
« You’re not dying, shut your goddamn mouth »
« So you don’t deny you’re pretending just to make me… happy? », König chuckles, but their melancholic eyes are looking away. Despite their laugh, they sound more broken hearted than anything else, as if they’re upset by the thought that Lynx is only putting up a false façade to try and make them feel better, just to have his conscience clean in case things take a turn for the worse and not for genuinely giving a damn about them.
« I’m not– fuck. Just keep talking if it helps you stay awake. Just don’t– »
Lynx’s whisper dies out on his lips, just when he realizes he doesn’t like nor wants to hear what turn his words were about to take.
Just don’t leave me.
These four words forming into his thoughts take him by surprise and they scare the hell out of him, more than any war, any enemy and any wound could ever do. With his rifle, he’s methodical, relentless, surgical – he’s freezing cold on the battlefield, but anything that his martial training doesn’t encompass leaves him at a loss. He doesn’t know what to do with the vice grip that got hold of his chest the very moment he saw König’s face, he doesn’t want to think about those four words, not even for another second. He doesn’t say anything else and lets the silence fall between them, but he doesn’t move – he remains still, as close to König as he has ever been, silently praying that somebody reaches them as soon as possible, so he can pretend to forget anything that has happened, everything he is feeling right now, from the pangs of worry to the sound of his own heart rumbling in his ears. He isn’t comfortable with the absence of sounds surrounding them except for their own breath and sits back on his own heels to check on König, opening his mouth to say something, anything to keep them alert, but König cuts his attempt short in being the first to speak.
« Could you pretend a little more and– kiss me? »
Lynx freezes in place. He’s not quite sure he has understood what he heard and his head tilts in confusion as he looks into König’s eyes. He’s now certain that the blood loss is causing them to talk nonsense and he wonders how long ago he has called for help, because he’s no longer sure they have much time left for König to be alright. His nerves are getting the better of him and he starts to get quivery as he drops his gaze, his fingers trembling as they clutch tighter on König’s hair. As a sniper, Lynx had forgotten what having his hands unsteady means and all it took for his flawless control to crumble was a stab wound to whom he thought to be his arch enemy.
« I mean it », König mutters and Lynx’s gaze focuses back to their face. He sees the weakest upturn of their lips, the way they look at him from beneath their eyelashes and Lynx feels as if he’s been stabbed too, somewhere between his stomach and his heart. If he hadn’t lost the ability to shed tears only God knows how long ago, he feels he would cry. He would have paid to hurt König and he did, with words as sharp as knives every time he had the chance, and now he almost can’t bear the sight of them suffering. Lynx exhales, still hesitating.
I have done worse.
He unfastens his helmet, just to not have it in the way, tossing it to the side, and places his hand to the back of König’s head again, bringing their foreheads to touch for real this time. He breathes there, stealing a second more before acting. He cannot bring himself to meet König’s gaze, so he just shifts, tilting his head just enough to reach König’s lips. It’s nothing more than a brush of their mouths – König doesn’t ask for more and Lynx doesn’t take it, but it isn’t rushed. Lynx lingers, as he feels König’s hand grabbing his leg, as to keep him close for a moment more before letting their hand slide away.
Lynx's head is swimming, as if he were unable to process what has just happened – for a moment, he forgets where he is and why he’s there, who’s the person in front of him and why the hell he has just kissed them. Why the hell a part of him wants to kiss them again.
There’s still just a hair between them and his interior debate is pushing Lynx to close the gap once again before he can think clearly about it and get himself together. What stops him is his radio crackling back to life, their teammates informing them they are entering the building. Lynx scrambles back to crouch at König’s side, catching his helmet with his free hand. He has no desire to be seen as he was for the past ten minutes or so, especially when the whole team knows how him and König usually behave around each other. He glances back at König and finds them looking at him with the softest smile on their lips and even if they’re so damn pale, Lynx swears he can see a touch of pink in their cheeks.
« Danke », König murmurs as the med team finally reaches them, relieving Lynx of the task of keeping the other as safe as possible. He stands up, stepping aside with his scarf still fisted in his hand, leaving the newcomers room to operate. He barely registers one of the team asking him if he’s alright, absentmindedly nodding without uttering a word.
During exfil there’s no time for chit-chat, and Lynx doesn’t get any information on König, but he isn’t even thinking about asking, so lost in replaying in his own mind the last few moments the two of them have spent together. He has the chance to finally relax on the helicopter taking them back to base, but he finds himself unable to do so. He sits on the edge of his seat with his entire body tense, shoulders up to his ears and his jaw clenched. He’s staring at nothing, green eyes empty and astray just as his thoughts, while he clutches at his bloodied scarf with jittery hands as his life depends on it. He’s barely breathing and his teammates cannot help but notice – Lynx is known around base for his presumptuous, uncaring attitude and nobody has ever seen him so distressed. He’s just notorious for losing his temper during his disputes with König and nobody finds anything weird in catching him fuming for the most trivial stuff, driving König mad with any excuse for the sole reason that they can’t stand each other. It’s quite different from whatever Lynx is going through now, and his fellow soldier sitting beside him glances at him sideways, and finally decides to check in on him.
« Lynx, are you okay? », he asks, obtaining seemingly no reaction from him. Lynx doesn’t even remember the guy’s name and he doesn’t care. He cannot bring himself to muster a handful of words to answer, even though his behavior is speaking volumes about his mood. He doesn’t look okay in the slightest, but he cannot explain what happened, he wouldn’t even know what to say – “I have seen my arch enemy almost die and it has broken me”?, “I also kissed them because they asked me to” ? Nothing sounds as something Lynx might allow to sink in in his own thoughts, let alone admitting it out loud in front of his teammates.
« So you do care about them … », the other soldier comments with a smirk, putting two and two together and jumping to the most obvious conclusion. He might have grasped more than Lynx himself has – there might be something that he has so stubbornly refused to acknowledge that might instead have been crystal clear for the onlookers around him for the longest time.
« No », Lynx finally replies, sounding as cold as ice and he doesn’t care that the other man is not buying it. He’s far from being okay and it’s written all over his face, and if that dude wants to snoop around what has caused him to break down like this he’d better think twice. Lynx doesn’t utter another word after that single syllable for the rest of their trip back to base, and finally his teammates seem to understand that they won’t get any detail from him anytime soon.
Once their destination is reached, Lynx goes through the usual post mission routine on autopilot. He manages to keep himself lucid enough through all of it, including having to report what happened to König when asked by his superior officers. A part of him wants to run when he hears himself speak, listening to his voice as if it weren’t coming from his own mouth. He doesn’t want to deal with it for a second more. He just wants to be alone in silence, without anybody around whom he owes debriefings and answers to or, God forbid, people that just want to know for the sake of it. Once he’s free of his obligations, he makes himself as inconspicuous as he can possibly be in a base where it’s mostly common spaces, waiting for everybody to leave before hitting the showers.
He barely looks at himself while he undresses as he knows he came back unscathed, albeit only on the outside. He just wants to forget about everything for a while – the mission, König, himself even, and the way he still feels like he’s choking, an invisible hand squeezing his airways, a feeling he had long forgotten. His gaze drops on his hands while hot water pours on the tense muscles of his back and that’s when he notices they are still stained with blood – König’s blood, slowly melting away and dissolving down the drain in scarlet rivulets. Lynx feels his head spinning as he watches, hypnotized, until his vision goes blurry as if he’s underwater. It all comes crashing down in that moment, as he bats his eyelashes once, twice, and salty, heavy drops fall from his eyes, losing themselves in the warm water trickling down his body. He doesn’t even realize that he’s crying, after years and years during which he had slowly drowned and killed his own emotions, until he’s straight out sobbing. He leans his head against the wall, wet dripping ginger hair prickling his eyes, even though he wishes to curl on the floor and pretend to disappear. He struggles to catch his breath, just wanting it all to end, but finding himself unable to make the tears stop.
You dumbass Austrian idiot. You should have fuckin' stopped playing the hero. Maybe you’re already dead by now, so you have finally stopped behaving like a goddamn imbecile for good. I hate you, you fuckin' bloody bastard.
He hits his fist on the tiles, not strong enough to hurt, as his lean frame is shuddering with sobs. He loses track of time, snapping back to reality only when distant voices from the corridor reach his ears. His head hurts and his eyes are red and sore, and all the weariness from the mission drops on him all at once, heavy on his shoulders. He would appreciate staying there and pretend the outside world doesn’t exist anymore, but he forces himself to turn off the water, wipe his face and get dressed and ready before anyone intercepts him. He hastens to get the hell out of there, but his luck seems to be running out as he bumps into one of his teammates on his way to seclude himself somewhere else and hopefully fall asleep for the next century or so. He doesn’t even turn to look at him, but a heavy hand falls on his shoulder and forces him to stop.
« Steamin’ Jesus, Lynx. You look like shit, man », the other soldier blurts as he sees Lynx turning at him, a snarl barely held back. He knows how he must look right now, tired and crushed, with wet, unruly hair falling on his face, but he doesn’t care. He just wants to punch the man in the face and unload his anguish on him for the sole reason that he has dared to speak to him. He opens his mouth to bark a harsh retort, but the other stops him in his tracks.
« I’ve been looking for you for a while, but you turned into a fuckin’ ghost, disappeared into thin air. You seemed quite shaken by what happened with König, so … I’ve got word that they lost a shit ton of blood, but they’re gonna be fine. I thought you might have wanted to know »
« We’re not fuckin' married, you know? I don’t care. Leave me alone », Lynx lashes out, before turning on his heel not looking the other in the eye once, leaving him disconcerted, shaking his head in front of such an exaggerated reaction to a seemingly good news, and disappears down the hallway. A shaky breath escapes his lips once he’s alone and he runs a hand over his face, overwhelmed once again. It’s not easy for him to tell what it is that he's feeling right now as his thoughts are racing through his head, in such a sharp contrast with the cold, painful void he felt before.
They’re not dead. They’re going to be fine. They’re going to be back to harass me in no time like nothing happened. They’re gonna mock me forever for how close I stood to him. They’re going to make my life a living hell for having kissed them. They’ll make a fool of me in front of everyone. I want to see them. I need to –
Could it be relief flooding in his entire being? Lynx doesn’t have nor wants an answer, but he finds himself walking down the corridor leading to the infirmary before he can even realize what he’s doing. He looks around and stops, shaking his head as to chase his weird frenzy off. He doesn’t know what his brain was trying to convince him to do – go ask about König in person? Ask to see them? And then what? He doesn’t know how he would explain his rushing there as soon as he knew König is still alive and breathing, nor what the hell he would be supposed to say to them. He clenches his fists and decides otherwise, turning his back and walking away in the opposite direction, opting once again for ignoring it all. He’ll pretend that nothing has ever happened, even when König is released and back in the field. Nothing has happened. He feels nothing.
Yeah, sure.
Lynx's purpose of suppressing everything that has been fluttering back and forth between his head and his heart is one of the most difficult tasks he ever had to endure, but he managed to keep a tight rein on his emotions in the following days, enough to appear as his usual self. He’s planning to fill his downtime with some workout as he usually does, going as hard on himself as he possibly can, but he senses somebody walking up behind him as he walks towards the gym. He pretends not to notice, his stare stubborn and pointed forward, but he stops as he feels a light brush of fingers on the bare skin of his arm, exposed as he’s wearing just a tank top. The touch is so soft it’s barely there, but it startles him nonetheless and makes him turn brusquely to whomever is disturbing him. His heart jumps in his throat when he sees König in front of him – they look better, their hair is clean even if it’s still messy, their blue eyes shine brighter and the color is back to their face, a touch of pink on their cheeks. The instinct to run inside Lynx is as strong as ever, but instead he freezes when König greets him with the softest smile and it takes him a while to come up with one of his usual wry quips.
« Look who’s still gracing us with their presence »
Lynx’s voice sounds a little unsteady, cracking slightly instead of being sharp and glacial as it usually is. It makes König chuckle, even if it makes them wince and hold a hand to their wounded side. They aren’t wearing their hood, just soft black pants and a t-shirt and Lynx doesn’t know where to set his eyes, opting to look somewhere on the floor instead.
« They gave me the green light for a little walk », König explains with a shrug, as if they’re trying to justify themself for being out of the infirmary. Their voice causes Lynx to finally raise his gaze, and he feels his own face getting warmer, but he tenaciously refuses to acknowledge it. There’s no reason to blush like this, or so he likes to tell himself.
« I’ve been told you’ve been a bit distressed by– you know. Care to spare a few minutes and come outside with me? », König asks, and the way they fiddle with their own fingers gives away that that simple question must make them nervous for some reason. Lynx knows of their struggles with anxiety and he really can’t blame them for being embarrassed now after the moment they had during their last mission. He just doesn’t understand why König isn’t choosing the easy way out, ignoring whatever happened in the ten minutes they waited for help to come.
« Oh, look, the dead hearted sniper can get stressed too. Is there anybody in this goddamn place that hasn’t pried into my fuckin' business yet? », Lynx bursts out, frustrated by his own behavior, by not being able to hide his own feelings as he always does, and by what is apparently the nosiest base in the history of the military. He also tries to delay giving König an answer, and making them laugh again in exchange.
Jesus Christ. They should really stop laughing at me like that.
He debates if he should come up with an excuse and bail on them, but he ends up following König outside with a loud sigh. Sunset is approaching and a soft, golden glow paints the surroundings of the base and a chilly breeze makes Lynx shiver as he steps foot in the courtyard, where nobody seems to be around at this time of day. König sits on a low wall, slow and careful so not to hurt themself, and leaves the space for Lynx to do the same. Lynx obliges and pulls his knees to his chest, resting his chin atop of them. His heart hasn’t slowed down and seems to have no intention to do so, not when König’s shoulder brushes his.
« So, what do you want? Tell me off for having taken advantage of your delirious self? », Lynx asks, eyes planted towards the sunset. He’s avoiding turning his head to König, mumbling against his own knees. He’s glad his face is hidden this way, as he scrunches his nose and grimaces when he thinks of what he had done. He shouldn’t have kissed König, not when they were confused, scared and in pain, but at the same time he couldn’t bring himself to say no to them. He doesn’t know what he would do now if put in the exact same situation. When König finally speaks again, he dares to glance in their direction and feels his face flush once again.
« What– I wanted to thank you. For having stayed with me back there the way you did. I thought you hated me », König explains. They’re unexpectedly soft spoken when they’re not high on adrenaline in the battlefield, losing all their boldness when they're not in a fight. Lynx is surprised how easily they’re still coming clean of what it’s on their mind and even more by how he finds himself not minding this side of them. Not at all.
« Well, you haven’t been exactly courteous with me either, you know »
« Just defending myself from your sharp wild cat teeth. As for taking advantage– »
« I am sorry, okay? »
« No need. I asked you. I wasn’t as out of it as you might think. I just wanted– just in case I– just in case that was my– my last chance », König replies, almost speaking over Lynx when they say he shouldn’t be sorry for having complied with their request. They sound nervous, uncertain in the words they are choosing, but it’s beyond question that they want to make sure that Lynx doesn’t feel guilty or bad in any way about it.
« I’m not sure I’m following you, König »
« You really can’t take a hint, can you? I– I like you, Lynx. Have liked you for a while. Fighting with you was just– easier than dealing with it », they pause, pondering on what words to pick, but there’s no way to make their confession easier. Their voice drops almost to a whisper when they say that couple of words that for a second knocks the wind out of Lynx. I like you.
« … »
Lynx’s eyes go wide as they turn to them, as if he truly had not understood before König told him, despite having kissed them. He refused to ponder about the meaning of that kiss and an explanation so simple yet so shocking didn’t dare to cross his mind, not even for a second. He has to make a conscious effort to remember how to breathe, but still he remains speechless, perhaps for the first time since he met König.
« I’m not asking you to kiss me again. I just wanted to tell you so– it can make sense to you, I guess. I didn’t want to leave you wondering. I wanted to just ask you if we could, maybe… Start over, you and me? Try not to hate on each other so much? », König continues, preoccupied to make themselves as clear as they possibly can. They seem to recognize that their request was over the top and they try their best to downsize what they would like from Lynx into something that might sound more acceptable to him. It seems a much more reasonable option to them, that of getting to know each other all over again, in the hopes to start off on a better foot this time around, with no fighting, defensive stances and gratuitous hostilities.
« What the hell… Are you asking me to date you? Is this what I’m hearing? », Lynx seems to find the ability to speak again, even though he is still completely flabbergasted, even more now that König has made themself clearer. That naive answer is the best he can come up with, having lost the train of his thoughts completely.
« If that’s what you want »
« You know that isn’t exactly allowed, don’t you? »
« Of course I do. But you know also that as long as one’s discreet about it there wouldn’t be any question asked. However, I’m rushing too much here… And if your answer is no, I’ll try to stay out of your hair as much as I can when we’re not on duty ».
König starts off sounding amused by Lynx’s reaction, but they get more somber as they can’t interpret his response. It’s not clear at all if he’s considering the possibility of saying yes or if he’s just realizing the reasons why they shouldn’t even think about it. He doesn’t reply straight away, his eyes wandering back into the sunset, and lets silence fall between them. He doesn’t know for how long he remains silent, with his brain seemingly shut off, turned back on only when he feels König shuffle beside him, standing up. There’s a little defeated smile on their lips as they eventually interpret Lynx’s silence as a no, and they sigh, looking away, before staying true to their word and leave and try to stay out of Lynx’s way. Lynx feels something crack and break in his chest as he’s compelled by an unspoken force to lunge forward and grab König’s wrist to block them from going back.
« Stay »
He doesn’t give König the time to react as he shifts and wraps his arms around their waist, awkward and hesitant at first, as if he never hugged someone before. Then his embrace tightens, still remaining delicate and careful enough so as not to hurt König, and he can tell they're surprised by the way they tense up under his touch. Fingers claw at the back of König’s t-shirt and Lynx’s face hides against their chest, breathing in. They smell good and clean and Lynx closes his eyes, feeling once again a lump forming in his throat. He lets his guard down, allowing himself to be vulnerable in front of someone else, perhaps for the first time in his life. A trembling sigh leaves his lips as König finally relaxes and reciprocates, one of their hands burying into Lynx’s red hair as the other finds its place between his shoulder blades. Lynx feels warm and safe, an unfamiliar but comforting feeling that threatens to overwhelm him at any moment. He spends a few moments there, basking in the new sensation, before freeing König from his embrace. It’s only to raise his hands and grab on to König's shoulders, sliding his fingers up to the nape of their neck to pull them down as he tiptoes to shorten the considerable gap in their heights and bring König closer. He rests there for a second, feeling König’s skin under his fingers, their heartbeat racing underneath, their trembling breath as he takes in the shape of their lips, tracing with his thumb over the upper one, just where their scar splits it open like a lightning bolt.
« This would be a yes », he whispers, barely audible, and curls his lips in the gentlest, sweetest smile König has ever seen on his face as Lynx finally pulls them even closer. It’s just a brush of their lips at first, just like their first kiss, but soon enough Lynx finds himself pouring out everything he has held back in the past few days – the fear of losing König and the relief of having them safe and sound, the stinging guilt of having been so poisonous to them for all this time, knowingly hurting them, the dread of allowing himself to feel such feelings for them, his vain attempts to chase them away. He can sense König is surprised, even with his eyes closed, but soon they relax as they kiss back, holding Lynx as close as physically possible, digging their fingers on his back and in his hair. They both forget they’re outside where everybody could see for a moment, until they break away from each other, breathless and wanting more. König cups Lynx’s cheek with their hand, caressing him and looking at him without having to conceal what they feel anymore, like he’s the most precious thing they have, ending up planting a kiss between his eyebrows. After that, they back off from him, capturing his hand between their fingers.
« Let’s go back inside, before someone comes looking for me », König says, forcing themself to put an end to their tender, fleeting moment, their effort made easier knowing that there might be many more to come, pulling Lynx's hand softly before letting it go. Lynx stands there as he watches König head back, unable to move a single step as he feels weak in the knees, with his pale skin feeling like it’s about to catch fire, the lingering sensation of König’s kiss still on his lips. He sighs as he cracks a lovestruck smile now that nobody can see him wearing his feelings on his sleeve, and he follows König back inside, feeling as light as he has ever been.