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Knock knock.
You barely hear the soft knocking over the pour of the rain outside, throwing droplets against the wall like it has a vendetta against the building.
The clock reads 2200, only a few hours after you'd laid down to sleep- retiring early because of the storm, and the heavy pound of the sheets of rain being notoriously good for granting you good sleep on nights like these. It had been like that since you were a kid; thunderstorms were always nap days when you could squeeze one in, and never failed to quickly drag you under the warm blanket of sleep.
Knock.
Someone was at your door, you knew it for sure. The first two could've been from a dream that you had just lost the grasp of, but this one was undoubtedly real. Someone was knocking.
God damn whoever woke you up. You stared blearily at the clock, watching a minute tick by before you shuffled under the blankets, pushing them down and kicking them down to the end of your bed and clicking the bedside lamp on. Swinging your legs over, you shivered at the feel of cold concrete under your feet, cursing the frigid state your room seemed to always stay in. You grabbed the rifle leaning against your nightstand, making sure it was loaded- just in case. Nobody could get in or out of the building without being noticed, so the threat of an intruder was slim, but never none.
It'd be better to be safe than to be sorry.
You crossed the distance from your bed to the door swiftly, posture still hunched over and sleep clouding your gaze. If it wasn't important, you were going to be sure to cuss the shit out of whoever had woken you up. You valued your rest when you could get it, and being interrupted in the middle of a thunderstorm nap was the last thing you wanted to be.
With your gun held where you could easily fire should it be a threat, you flung the door open- unfortunately scaring the absolute piss out of the man behind it.
König.
He still had the sniper hood on, though it looked more like a pillowcase over his head without his helmet. He was clad in only regular sleep clothes- something that looked like a sweater and long pants, and he looked absolutely terrified of you. Perhaps some of it could be stuck to the fact he had a gun pointed at his chest, which you quickly stuck inside the door, staring at him with an owlish gaze as you tried to form a sentence.
"Jesus, König- you scared the shit out of me, man." He didn't, but you couldn't really think of anything else to say at the moment that wasn't what the fuck, man?, and you were sure that wouldn't fly over great with him. You were just surprised that the absolute unit known as König was standing at your door, in the middle of the fucking night, looking like he was a puppy you'd just given the boot to.
"Sorry, didn't mean to." His voice was quiet, his tone nervous. He looked from you to the room behind you, which caused you to turn and look over your shoulder on instinct- wondering what the hell was so interesting that he couldn't keep his eyes off it. Had you left a gun out? Maybe forgot to clean up your uniform you'd practically tore off before jumping into bed?
It was nothing but your regular, empty room.
You turned back to look at him questioningly, tilting your head slightly. "Need something? Extra blanket?"
It sounded harsh, even to your ears, and you watched König draw back slightly. You waved your hand quickly, as if clearing the air of your previous question.
"Sorry, I just woke up- feels like from a coma," you joked, letting out a small laugh to try and lift the heavy feeling. "First of all, come inside- don't want you to be a stranger, plus it's fucking cold out here. More than the rooms, but it's a slightly less freezing part of the arctic, aye?"
You opened the door fully, stepping to the side and gesturing for the man to enter. He didn't move for a second, and for the first time in a long while, could only stare at you.
It was almost mesmerizing, and you felt like you were the one struggling to hold contact. His eyes were a deep shade of brown, with a glimmer of nervousness swimming in them. God how you could get lost in his eyes; staring for an eternity, just watching.
You'd only gotten to see his eyes close up a few times. With the way he towered over you, they were always more than an arm's length away; but the moments, the fleeting moments you got close enough to really look, they were beautiful. You could read him like a book just from watching his eyes, how they flickered between you and your other teammates with so much concern. When he'd look you over for injuries on the field, or how apologetic he looked the time you had to help him stitch up a wound on his thigh and support him all the way back to the helicopter.
You don't think you'd ever get enough time to look at his eyes.
You were brought back to the moment by König ducking through the frame of your door, cautious not to hit his head as he entered.
Shaking the thoughts from your head, you shut the door behind him and took in just how nervous his posture was. He held his hands tightly in front of himself, shoulders hunched in and gaze turned downwards towards his socked feet. You leaned back against the door, crossing your arms casually and tilting your head.
"You alright, big guy? Need something?"
There was another long pause, a few noises coming from behind the man's hood- like he was trying to figure out exactly what he wanted to say, but was getting nowhere.
Until there was a long, sharp clap of thunder, and you watched him jump.
Was.. was he afraid of the thunder?
"König?" You asked carefully, pushing off from the door and treading up to him silently. It was easier to notice so close that his hands were trembling; on instinct, you reached out and took one of them. Pressing his between yours, taking note of just how clammy his palms were in your warm grip.
"Yeah?" His voice was slightly shaky, though you could tell he was trying not to let it show.
You had a good idea now of why he was knocking at your door so late into the night. He was obviously trying to suppress the fear, but you knew well enough that there was a point one man couldn't take it anymore.
So he'd come to you.
"You wanna stay here for the night?"
Your offer was genuine, but you noticed how much it caught him off guard- despite you having the hunch that was the whole reason he'd come over in the first place.
His eyes widened, sucking in a quiet breath as he stared- waiting for the take-back of the offer, for you to let his hand drop. Waiting for you to open the door and push him out, tell him he had interrupted your sleep to be so childish as afraid of a bit of thunder and still thought you'd be willing to at least let him sit with you for a while?
But you didn't. You looked at him with those kind eyes, still holding his shaking hand, waiting for his response even as fear of something that couldn't even hurt him rattled in his chest.
"Please," his voice was quiet, pleading. You just smiled at him, slowly letting his hand down- rubbing his arm comfortingly before you stepped around him, walking towards your bed.
"It has been pretty damn loud tonight, aye?" Smalltalk, something to try and keep his mind off the actual storm. You leaned over, moving the few pillows you'd scrounged up around; leaving him standing awkwardly in the middle of your room, rubbing his knuckles and trying to preserve the warmth of his hand in yours.
"It has been," was his meek reply, watching you work to re-adjust your blankets from where you'd aggressively kicked them down to the end before you'd known who was standing at your door. He wasn't exactly sure what the purpose was, since you were about to get under the sheets again anyways, but it wasn't his place to question.
You hummed, walking back over to him, then past him to retrieve your firearm. Probably to re-place it next to your nightstand; you could never be too careful. But you stopped at the foot of your bed, not quite rounding the corner to your side yet before you turned to look over your shoulder at him.
"You coming, big guy?"
He stared at you like you had two heads- like stranger words had never been spoken to him.
You stared back, the gears in your tired mind grinding to life for a second time that night. "You- I'm not gonna make you sit on the floor through the whole night, König. Unless you want to, then you can- you can sleep in the bed with me, you know. I don't have the cooties, swear to god."
There was a soft clank of metal against concrete as you put your gun down next to your nightstand, the bed creaking as you sat on it. You checked the clock, back to the giant man standing in your room, waiting.
It took a moment, but you hear his footsteps drawing nearer to the bed and then the dip and creak as he sat down.
You couldn't help but smile to yourself, putting the clock back down and pulling the sheets over you, listening for him to do the same as you turned the lamp out.
"König," you whispered, and you could practically feel him turn to look at you. "You can lie down, buddy. I'm not going to kick you. It's a tight fit but if you're uncomfortable, there's enough room to keep us from touching. I can spread out on this thing and barely have my ankles hang over."
It then occurred to you that unless he curled up, König would more than likely be hanging over the edge of the bed. The mental image made you laugh, before you realized that more than likely, his own bed wasn't much different; and that had to be uncomfortable as hell to sleep in every night.
"Okay, I.. okay."
The bed creaked again and you felt the sheets twist and tug as he struggled to pull them over himself.
You could only imagine the giant man made your fair-sized bed look like a damn doll toy.
"Goodnight, König."
You were half-asleep when you heard him say goodnight back.
The clock's red lights displayed 0300 when you woke next.
You were pissed that your sleep had been interrupted yet again, this time by an unseen force. The rain still pelted down hard and heavy outside, and you heard a low rumble of thunder; following a bright flash of lightning that struck down somewhere far enough away for you to admire it instead of fear it.
So it took you a minute to try and figure out just why you had been woken up; only to feel a slight tremble at your back, followed by a soft hiccup.
König.
Still half under the influence of sleep, you turned over; reaching a hand up, gently patting along the side of the massive man until you could reach his shoulders.
He must've slid down while you were asleep, considering his head was about level with your chest.
"Hey, you okay big guy?" Your words were whispered as you rubbed his shoulder, feeling him tense up under your touch for a moment before going lax. You couldn't see anything, but you could hear the muffled noises and the gentle shake of his shoulders. He had to have been crying, which gripped your heart with an iron fist and cracked it.
He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. You knew what it was like to be afraid, even of the little things that people called irrational. Painfully aware of how stupid it was, but unable to break free from the fear that gripped you anyways, uncaring of how foolish it was.
To try and fill the silence, to drown out the sound of thunder, maybe even just to comfort him, you started talking. Trivial things, nothing important. You started with your mother's cats, how there was always a specific tabby cat that she insisted on calling Fat Bastard. Even in the dark of the room, you could imagine her hissing at Fat Bastard to get out of another cat's food bowl, swiping at him with a broom as he skittered off to the cat tree, yowling indignantly the whole way. Or the cat that you'd brought back as a child that fell into the fish bowl one time and refused to get near it again even to look at the fish inside.
It was what you did to yourself when you were afraid. Chattering on like you had no intention of stopping until you were dead or safe, one. You'd had teammates laugh that you were more entertaining than any podcast when you were hurt, constantly commenting on your grim situation in such a way it made it hard to think about the fact there was a concerning amount of blood on your uniform.
You weren't sure how long you laid there chattering on, one arm beneath your head and the other simply rubbing up and down König's arm, trying to distract him from the violent crack of thunder outside of your window every so often.
You'd moved on to a story about climbing a tree to try and save a kitten only to slide down with an armful of them that had been hiding when you felt the man next to you shift.
Pausing, you waited for him to stop moving- only to feel him bury his face against your chest, his strong arms coming to wrap around your torso.
Holy shit.
In all honesty, you had prepared for almost anything but the feeling of your massive snuggle buddy crying into your shirt, and yet out of all the scenarios, this was the one god blessed you with.
Shit, you weren't going to argue your blessings.
Your hand returned, this time settling against his head- surprised to feel the softness of his hair beneath your fingers.
You said nothing about it, only resting your hand at the base of his skull- rubbing your thumb over the soft hairs there for a moment before sliding your hand down, following the line of his stubbled jaw, feeling out his features.
Strong, yet soft around the edges, perfectly matching the rest of him. Something uniquely König, gentle yet intimidatingly firm in all the ways he didn't want to be.
You could feel the damp trail of tears down his cheeks, the droplets that rolled down his skin for a moment before soaking into your shirt.
"You're gonna be alright, big guy. I got you, okay?"
It was comforting nonsense, the best you could do as sleep began to take you again.
"Gonna be alright.. mhm? Just fine. I got you, and nothin fucks with me, so nothin's gonna fuck with you either. You gonna be alright, just try to get some sleep. Not gonna let anything get you."
You felt his arms tighten around you, another weak sob shaking his shoulders as you stroked his cheek.
Before you completely slipped away, you leaned down to press a soft kiss to the top of his head.
If you woke up with post-nighttime regret, so be it. But it was König, and somewhere in the back of your mind, he was your König.
You don't think you'd ever regret being gentle with him.