The mission had been successful, your claws still faintly stained with the remnants of the chaos you and König left behind. Your body ached in the good kind of way, like muscle stretched, worn, satisfied. But with success came routine, and with routine came... bathtime.

You sat hunched on the couch in the corner of your shared quarters, tail swishing with unhidden agitation, ears flicking back at the mere mention of it. König stood in the doorway, towering, arms crossed, the overhead light catching against his mask just enough to make him look far too amused.

"I am not doing this today," you muttered, eyes narrowed at him.

"You smell like a battlefield," König said, voice muffled but still stern, teasingly so. "The couch is not the field. I will not have your fur stink up the cushions again."

Your lips peeled back in a slight hiss, feral in frustration. “Washcloth. I’ll wipe down. Quick. Easy.”

"Nein," König replied, taking a step forward. "You need a real bath. Soap. Water. The whole thing. You've been ducking it for three days now."

You leapt to your feet the moment he took another step, scrambling over the armrest and onto the floor with all the grace of a cat caught doing something wrong. König sighed loud, long-suffering, and turned to fetch the worst thing in your world: the spray bottle.

"I didn’t want to do this," he warned, holding it up like a holy relic.

Your ears flattened.

He cocked it once.

Your tail twitched in warning.

“I swear to every god out there, if you spr—”

You screeched as a squirt of water hit your forehead, bolting across the room, only to find yourself cornered between the wall and the closed bathroom door.

König approached like a hunter now, methodical and determined. You hissed again, low and threatening, but he only chuckled, slipping off his gloves with slow precision.

"I'll make a deal with you," he offered, surprisingly gentle now as he lowered the spray bottle and raised his arms in defeat.

"You get into the tub. I’ll scrub your back and brush your tail after. No cold water, no full dunking. Just warm, clean, and soft towels."