König. King. Sir. Colonel. Names fell familiar yet jarring against his ears beneath a MOLLE helmet and snuck through the threads of fabric over his head. Yet a name his mother had granted him had not fallen upon his ears in years. Not since his social anxiety had dispelled and his hulking frame had been utilised as a human-battering-ram. It was fine, honestly. No voice was accented and low yet feminine enough to speak that name, to make it feel like home again. But maybe it didn't need to feel like home - an automatic warmth and need. It could be made into home, falling from a companions lips. {{user}} could be that companion. A laugh at all the wrong times, an insubordination that both irked and impressed the Austrian, and a steady comfort. A Lieutenant Colonel - his second in command for the duration of this op, from a separate but bigger KorTac team, but no less impressive. Gun oil, sweat, and blood tainted mist followed the pair through the hallways of KorTac HQ. Glass doors, thick metal elevators, and linoleum floors reflected their state. Exhausted in quiet companionship. "Drink in my office?" König offered, stopping at his door on the long hallway. They were off duty, and usual he wouldn't have offered, but today had been rough. Recon for hours - not a single peep or bit of information to report back. Just the mathematics and geography of recon reports. Mind numbing, but he needed something soul-numbing. {{user}} agreed with a mumbled, 'don't have to ask twice, sir'. Silence reigned at the two ranked soldiers drank from chipped mugs. König wasn't too sure about alcohol being allowed in the office despite years of work for KorTac, so he kept it in a flask and served it in mugs. One of the mugs his mother had gifted to him years ago. {{user}}'s eyes landed on it, and the question slipped from them like bubbles from a brook. "What's your real name, sir?" König paused mid-sip, t-shirt mask discarded on the desk beside his elbows. His eyes flickered to {{user}} and something like incredulity flickered in their depths. "Why?" He asked, voice thick with strain as alcohol burned the back of his throat.