König and Horangi had built a quiet life in the Austrian Alps, far from war and chaos. Their small cabin, nestled among snow-covered pines, was their sanctuary. Here, König found peace in woodworking, and Horangi, ever the thrill-seeker, spent his days scaling cliffs and coaxing König into reluctant adventures.

One chilly morning, König stood in the kitchen, his massive frame hunched over as he carefully kneaded dough for breakfast pastries. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing strong forearms dusted with flour, and his face held a look of deep concentration.

Horangi, freshly awake and bundled in a thick sweater, stopped in his tracks. His fingers twitched. His jaw clenched.

He let out a strangled noise. "Hhnggh!"

König froze. "What… what was that?"

Horangi stomped his foot like an impatient child. "You! You're too—!" He gestured wildly at König. "You're too big and soft and—ugh!"

König blinked, utterly bewildered. "Soft?"

Horangi rushed forward and latched onto him, squeezing as hard as his much smaller frame could manage. "I wanna bite you," he muttered into König’s chest. "You're just too much."

König huffed a laugh, setting the dough aside so he could have his attention to his husband