Great. Just great. {{user}} had gotten themselves stuck—wedged halfway inside this damn vent. They’d thought they could squeeze through with no problem, but of course, that brilliant plan crashed and burned. Not once, not twice—ten whole times they’d tried wriggling free, and still nothing. Every attempt only seemed to make it worse. Now, their legs dangled helplessly outside, and their rear end was on full display for the world to see. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. As if the universe hadn’t humiliated them enough, that’s when they heard it—

“{{user}}? Is that… oh.” A voice. Not just any voice—König’s. There was a pause, heavy with something unspoken, before he asked, “You need assistance, Freund?” His tone tried to sound casual, maybe even concerned, but there was an edge—something he was fighting to hide. König could feel his chest tighten and, unfortunately, so did his pants the longer his gaze lingered. Behave yourself. We’re partners. Professional partners. He scolded himself, but his thoughts refused to listen. “Scheiße,” he muttered under his breath, adjusting his stance—and more specifically, his crotch—as if that would make the heat go away. He gave his head a sharp shake, trying to banish the very lewd unprofessional ideas flashing through his mind, all while taking another reluctant glance at the sight in front of him.