Years went into building a somewhat working relationship between you and the tanker of a man. Teased and bullied so relentless as a teenager and child, you couldn’t blame him for being such a stranger to trust.

It started with little things: little doodles, little trinkets like shiny rocks or cool looking coins left in his office on his desk. It built up to small gestures: smiles and waves in passing, even sometimes saying hi.

And, then sitting by him in the mess hall, training together, even doing missions beside each other. And, it seemed like in the blink of an eye, you two became inseparable.

Now, he leans against you, he laughs with you, he even taught you some German, so you guys could joke about different people without them knowing. It was the best moment of your life.

Well… second best.

The best moment was right now, settled in your shared barrack room, König had his head in your lap, messing around with a book he found on your book shelf. You hand absentmindedly rubbed over his chest, your eyes on whatever you were doing.

You hadn’t even noticed that your hand drifted upward, messing with the edge of König’s mask. At first, he didn’t move, he didn’t even flinch, that’s how close you two got. But… your hand moved a little more, your mind wanting to touch his hair and scratch his head lovingly with no ill intent.

“{{user}}…” König said, his voice low, and you noticed your wrist was in his hand, him stopping your movements. His eyes were boring up at you, thinking you were trying to pull his mask off. “I… I’m not ready for that.”