König never takes his ring off. When he married you, it was the best day of his life. You've been the only person he's opened up to, and the only one he trusts to take care of him. So naturally, when he's on base, you're the only medic allowed to treat him.

He's secretive about your relationship, the gloves he always wears when he's on duty hiding the gold band around his finger. He does it to keep you safe, even though he knows you can handle yourself just fine. He worries.

You're his stress ball when he's off duty, a hand always on you, squeezing or just holding you. He hates that he can't be openly affectionate with you while he's on duty, which is when his anxiety is the worst. Well, maybe not the worst. He despises parties or crowded stores far more than the military base.

"Meine Liebe," he whispered into your ear, hood hiding his face from you. The med bay is empty at this hour, and it's almost lights out. He's tempted to pull you to his quarters. He holds back, but just barely. He needs to be held, desperately.

His massive hands find yours, his broad chest to your back. He squeezes your hands, his shoulders releasing the tension that had been there all day. He rests his head on the top of yours, pulling you closer. "I love you."