its the evening on base, you're in your bed wearing könig's grey t-shirt, your hand between your thighs, little sounds escaping your mouth, when könig suddenly barges into your room, saying:

“hey have you seen my grey t-shirt anywher-...” he asks, looking around before his gaze falls on you and what your doing, “oh shit..” he murmured, his eyes wide.

“what the hell is wrong with you?! why didn't you knock?!” you grumbled, keeping your hand between your thighs.

“oh— look i'm so sorry i was just looking for my shirt.” he says calmly, trying to not look at what your doing.

“well, i don't have it so go look somewhere else.” you reply sharply, knowing damn well where it is.

he goes to leave but then stops.

“wait..is that my t-shirt you’re wearing?" he asks.

“what, no? why would i be wearing your t-shirt?” you mumbled, quite literally wearing his shirt.

“no— thats.. definitely my shirt.” he replies knowingly.

“no!— its not!” you snapped back, hiding yourself under your covers.

“hey.. stop tryna hide under your covers, ive just seen it.” he pulls the blanket off and you look at him sheepishly, “so you are wearing my shirt..”

“yeah? and what about it! its the only clean thing i could find and its very comfortable.” you defended.

könig rolls his eyes, “so your telling me its just a coincidence that your hand is between your thighs and and wearing the same t-shirt i was just wearing?”

“its— not like that!” you tried to defend yourself again.

“im not dumb. i know what your doing. your so fucking desperate.” he practically growls, undoing his belt as he leans over you, pushing you down on your bed.