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The end goal was to decrease his time on the fresh course. It has just been reconstructed and adjusted to provide training for environments with tight and enclosed spaces. He’d been running the course with a few non-commissioned officers, men he knew had problems with missions where they needed to move swiftly through difficult environments.
König had recommended it, knowing they couldn’t rely on brute force for every assignment. It was far removed from base about a ten-minute jog from it.
They ran it as best they could, their times not meeting the standard he’d envisioned.
He didn’t run the course, desiring to oversee them and time them properly. He noticed the men with broader shoulders struggling through a trio of small windows. They were able to wedge themselves through the windows however they struggled to get through without triggering a false tripwire that would sound an alarm when set off, immediately cutting their run time and resulting in them needing to rerun the course.
He cleared them out, telling them to finish their other duties back on base before reporting to the mess for dinner, leaving him to clean up the training area.
“Are you sure? You’ll need to jog back,” the sergeant asked, making König wave him off.
“Don’t worry about me. Just return to base and let Lieutenant Kim know I’ll be late to debrief.”
The man nodded stiffly, giving a salute before joining his colleagues in the small truck they’d driven up.
He was alone, knowing the next batch of men wouldn’t be arriving until 06:30. He ensured everything in the course was reset and that nothing had been broken with his group. As the colonel checked everything off, curiosity grew within his stomach.
He was top heavy, broad shoulders and thick muscles. His hips were slimmer but his thighs still showed the same amount of power as his top half. He wondered what his time running the fresh course would be.
Truth be told, the only reason König didn’t run the course alongside his colleagues was his fear of getting stuck. He saw the humiliation burn on his sergeant’s face when he had to pull him out of the window, guiding him backwards as to not trigger the tripwire and have to reset it once more. Anxiety still coiled in his abdomen, the thought of getting stuck or worse signaling that he had failed the course and having to listen to the awful alarm while he waited.
The soldier soothed those anxieties, rationalizing that he needed the practice and to get through it so he didn’t slack or slip.
He chewed his lip before glancing, seeing that the group had taken off, driving down the road back to base. König decided to give it fifteen minutes, he did his usual checks before a course was run and ensured that the alarms wouldn’t go off so he did not worry any officials further into base.
Fifteen minutes passed slowly, the sun slowly dipping off into the horizon, lights automatically turning on to not leave the course in the darkness. The sun had already been kissing the horizon when they were finishing up so it dipped faster.
When he decided he was in the clear, König set his timer down near the end. He counted ten seconds in his head as he set himself up at the start before he allowed himself into the course. It began with walls squeezed tightly together; the option was to climb the walls or to squeeze between. König knew he stood no chance at squeezing between, opting for climbing over the wall. He pulled himself up and over the wall, not breaking a sweat. He continued forward, navigating tight spaces and the intense course.
He faltered for a moment before the carved wall, windows cut into it. He breathed in sharply and made a move to go in top first, figuring he could wiggle the broad part of his body in first and then make a move to go forward and slip the rest of his body through. The fit was tight, a proper struggle wasting him fifteen seconds. He attempted to pull himself forward but his gear was caught on the wood of the wall and his hands couldn’t reach far enough to grab another surface to pull himself forward. Tension took his body as he squirmed, desperate to escape, his fear becoming a reality.
“Shit,” he snarled, trying to wedge his arm back through the hole but finding it to be a useless effort. He was fucking stuck in a training wall, unable to get himself out and no one there to help. It was just shy of 20:00 and there wouldn’t be anyone there to help him for nearly 10 hours. So he’d be stuck here for ten hours in the dark until another unit came to run the course.
König would not take that, not going to let himself wait and die of the humiliation when he was found and helped. He continued to try to get out, knowing the wood was splintering when he tugged forward a bit too hard. It creaked and for a moment he thought he could break it and pull himself out but it would not give in to the force. The wood was simply too thick, and he was not superhuman as many of the rumors that ran in the company of mercenaries would have many believing.
After nearly twenty minutes of futile struggling, the Colonel gave up, tired and frustrated beyond belief. If he were another man, he’d probably cry out of frustration but he knew his absence would be noticed and someone would come looking for him. It was a matter of when that was the problem. Someone could notice straight away, someone could be on their way out for him straight away or they’d wait for a while to see if he showed up.
He hung his head in defeat, letting his body relax as much as one could in such a situation. His muscles were going to ache, his body bruised from the failed escape attempts. König didn’t believe in any god, considering his work too cruel for him to even attempt at believing in a higher being but he began praying someone would come find him and that someone would not grill him for the rest of his life. He hoped it was someone who was easily intimidated by him so that he could intimidate them into silence.
But if it were Callisto, Horangi, Valeria–any of the people he considered friends? They would make sure he could never breathe without remembering he was stuck in a training wall for months, possibly for the rest of his life. He would not take that fate lying down. But for now he couldn’t do anything other than wait. If he heard the distant sound of a truck approaching or the sound of boots near he’d begin his attempts to get out again.
König sighed and prayed in his head, waiting for someone to answer it.
–
The lieutenant rolled his shoulders, glancing to the door waiting for his Colonel to show up. He knew the man would already be late; he said he’d be on the training grounds until 08:00 and arrive about ten minutes after their set time. It was cleared with the other officials, they’d just need to wait.
But now, sitting in a room prepared to hear their new assignment ten minutes past his limit was making his patience wear thin. He was patient, as be as he could be. He glanced at the visiting captain who—unsurprisingly—looked aggravated. It would bruise their reputation and the captain’s mood.
As the clock rolled into eleven minutes past, a firm knock on the door drew their attention.
“Enter.”
The knob turned, the door pushing in. One of König’s sergeants was there, standing straight and saluting his superiors. O’Conor waved his hand to let the soldier who moved to be in a parade rest.
“What do you need, Corporal?” the captain asked, glancing around the room.
The soldier cleared his throat a moment and then spoke, “The Colonel is still on the training grounds. There were some technical difficulties, and he ordered us to return to base and let you know he cannot attend.”
O’Conor’s lip twitched a bit, but he just closed his eyes and sighed, “Thank you. You are dismissed.”
The man gave a nod and another salute before excusing himself. Horangi gave a slight shrug to his captain. He wasn’t sure what to say.
“Let’s get on with it then shall we?” The captain asked, gesturing for Horangi to sit.
He sat down, turning his attention to his captain and the visiting captain, his colonel in the back of his mind. Horangi had decided he’d give the man a proper scolding when they crossed paths again, likely after the meeting when König came to clear up his absence once he returned from his adventure in the training grounds.
The information was important, but the meeting was a bore. This was no surprise, he was always bored in these meetings, though he was a dutiful soldier, paying attention and questioning tactics and movements that were going to apply to the assignment. Once they entered the questioning segment of the meeting, Horangi allowed his mind to drift.
König was a good soldier and man, never missing a meeting without reason. Horangi was sure he’d get a bit of slack, more so than others. König was highly decorated and respected even if he didn’t pull rank very often. Many respected him without hesitation or question. It resulted in their dynamic differing from with others. Horangi pushed and shoved him.
It was an equal push and shove; he found the Austrian was quite calm and anxious behind his hood. He hated crowds and the smell of shitty cologne; he hated the cleaning of an M4 (It was noisy and took a while he claimed); he hated the smell of the incense and how mashed potatoes tasted.
He wasn’t the monster that the walls whispered he was; he was a human, one just more reserved and closed off. It made Horangi question his own humanity. He glanced towards the door, waiting to see the colonel. He never showed up even as the room fell quiet. Horangi looked back at his Captain, nodding along in the dismissal.
The lieutenant lingered a bit, slowing his stride when walking out, looking down the long corridor, hoping to see the mountain of a man.
Hoping?
Why was he hoping?
He chastised himself, hissing a command to shut his thoughts out and make his way to his private room. He didn’t stay on base very often, only when they were going to be needed before 06:00 hours. Horangi walked through the base that was winding down, many soldiers ending their days and mercenaries loading on for assignments or returning from such. He nodded as a greeting to anyone who’s gaze he caught.
He slid into the BOQ, taking off his balaclava and other unneeded gear and flicking on the light. It was modest, nothing special. He didn’t bother to decorate it since he didn’t live on base. The only reason he even had on base housing was due to how often he was required to stay on base. His apartment was much homier, much nicer.
Oh how he missed his comfortable bed. The lieutenant wouldn’t complain though, he didn’t mind getting a private place. He moved and collapsed onto the bed, not bothering to change out entirely. He wasn’t tired, not enough to sleep. He still closed his eyes, letting his mind wander and drift. He didn’t think about much in particular, his mind floating through different topics.
The topics ranged from their newest assignment to what he’d do the next time he took leave.
König was also in his idle thoughts and it made him open his eyes and sigh through his nose. His stomach swirled at the possibilities of why König never showed, but he knew it wasn’t his responsibility.
But he still felt like it was, he wanted to keep König on a short leash, keep his eyes on him. It would prevent issues like this arising. He felt like he needed to ensure his colonel’s safety even if he was a behemoth of a man.
Horangi turned onto his side and closed his eyes in defiance of those thoughts, of any sense of responsibility, ignoring it. He’d cover it and hope the embers would fizzle out.
—
A few hours passed, Horangi unable to fall asleep. He looked over at the digital clock and about four hours had passed, a few minutes past midnight. Anxiety curled and gently settled at the bottom of his stomach. The uncertainty in not knowing where König was at was making itself known.
There was no harm in ensuring the colonel was tucked in bed, sleeping just fine. Right?
Right, Horangi rationalized. There was no harm, the worst thing that could happen is his colonel would lose fifteen minutes to being roused and trying to fall back asleep.
If he was in bed.
Horangi forced himself to get up, making himself presentable and tugging the balaclava over his face, even if he knew he wouldn’t run into any of the other officers. He left his room, glancing around before bee-lining to the end of the corridor, finding his superior’s room.
He knew with certainty the colonel was on base, preferring it to his home away from it. They were cut from the same vine both tied to their sense of duty and mission, he’d never stray too far. Once he stopped outside the door, he knocked firm but not too aggressively, just enough to wake him.
He waited for a sign of life, to hear the creak of the bed frame or floorboards, to hear the shuffle of bedsheets or to hear quiet curses in being awoken. But fifteen seconds passed, then thirty, then a minute. With each passing second, his anxiety gnawed on his nerves again, oozing from his stomach and crawling up his nerves.
He knocked again, clearing his throat, “Colonel?” he called, voice sounding foreign in his own ears.
Frustration joined the anxiety when a second time passed with no response. He wanted to know where König was, where he could be so late. Oh, how irresponsible he was, all the trouble he could get into and Horangi would be none the wiser.
Perhaps something had happened on the training grounds... perhaps an injury or worse and he couldn’t make his way back to base or get his issued phone to get someone out there. He weighed the options out before deciding to go to the grounds. Worst case he’d get a slap on the wrist for being there at unauthorized hours, he knew he wouldn’t face serious repercussions.
With his sights set, he began the venture to the training grounds, hoping to find his Colonel.
—
König prided himself on his patience and his ability to keep calm in (albeit unconventional) situations that warranted intense anxiety. At least in the sense of being in situations that the usual person wouldn’t end up in.
No civilian would end up stuck in a wooden training wall, trapped because their gear got caught on the wood and became unable to unwedge it.
He’d spent nearly an hour and a half trying to unwedge himself but with his combat knife — although sheathed — digging into his thigh, his sidearm also painfully making itself known when he tried to push or pull too hard.
The colonel accepted his fate, that he’d be found stuck by a group of rookies that would undoubtedly spread word on base and he’d receive looks and whispers.
More looks and whispers.
For the last three hours, he’s been trying to distribute his weight, to ignore the ache in his body, specifically his hips and legs. He’d been chastising and criticizing himself heavily for allowing himself to fuck up this bad.
He was in the middle of another scolding session when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, realizing someone was there. Anxiety immediately flooded his system, thoughts ceasing. He listened carefully, hearing footsteps that attempted to be quiet.
“Who’s there?” he called, voice wavering the slightest bit.
“König,” a familiar voice called back, König felt both relief and a fresh wave of pure dread flowing freely through his veins.
Realistically, Horangi wouldn’t humiliate him in front of the others in their unit, he was sadistic and always bullying him, but this was another level of humiliation. He prayed he wouldn't anyway.
“Horangi,” he replied, voice becoming audibly less tense, like Horangi was an angel or god and he was a disciple praying for an answer and that prayer was answered.
The footsteps ceased near him, Horangi’s eyes immediately upon him, judging. He was prey in the eyes of a dangerous predator. They crawled up long legs, over the curve of his ass towards his belt where his gear was caught. He didn’t bother coming to look his Colonel in the eyes, that of which König considered another prayer answered.
“How long have you been like this?” he asked, foregoing the how or the why. Both were self explanatory, König imagined.
“Um,” his voice shook, stuttering along the way, “I don’t know. A few hours…?”
A low chuckle emitted from Horangi’s chest, something else bubbling in König’s stomach. His face burned, his cheeks undoubtedly scarlet under the grease he wore over his eyes that melted through the day.
“I’m stuck,” he pointed out quietly, shifting on his feet.
“And stars are bright,” Horangi bit back, pointing out the obvious. His face burned more, if that was even possible, “Do you need help?”
“Yes!”
He needed to get out of this and crumble into ash; he was humiliated, Horangi’s teasing making it worse.
Hands on his hips made him jolt, suppressing a shocked and stressed whine. It didn’t work, a choker noise still making out. He couldn’t believe himself, arousal was bubbling in his stomach.
But how could he be blamed? It had been an awful long time, and he was always sensitive.
If Horangi heard the noise, he said nothing, giving an experimental tug where König grunted and hit a fist against the wooden wall.
“Don’t, my knife is digging into my thigh,” he bit, voice shaky and quiet. Not just from humiliation but to hide any other things he may be imagining that he feels.
“Then why can’t you…” Horangi’s question trailed off into nothing, hands going to the gear attached to his utility belt.
König was then pushed forward, another wave bubbling. Horangi was moving him so easily, it made his head spin. His mind was filling with thoughts of his lieutenant — not an uncommon problem he had — and his cock slowly filled out.
He chastised himself about how easy it was to get him going. Panic also danced along the arousal, realizing Horangi could tell if his hands wandered and his hands—
“Just cut my belt!” König demanded, sudden and voice tense. The hands on his hips tightened a bit, keeping him still.
“Why would I ruin your belt like that?” Horangi’s left hand went and tugged his belt rather harshly, making him hiss when the motion pulled him back and made his gun bite into him worse. “I’ll just undo it.”
König wasn’t quick enough to kick Horangi in the shin before hands were circling his front, grabbing the buckle of his belt. A noise one could only describe as pathetic and desperate bubbled out of König’s chest.
Horangi paused, his hands staying on his belt buckle. There was silence, König squirmed trying to get away, but it felt like he was trapped between a rock and a hard place. He couldn’t move but if he didn’t Horangi would surely—
“What’s the matter, König?” Horangi asked, a strange tone in his voice, König couldn’t tell what it was.
“Nothing just— just cut my belt,” his voice was meek, his voice not matching that of a mountain of a man.
Horangi softly tsk’d at him, like he was about to scold him, “Don’t lie to me. It’s not nice to lie.”
“It’s not nice to taunt someone who needs help.”
Horangi hummed, “I’m not a nice person though am I, Colonel?”
König felt silent and squirmed a bit more, but the hands on his belt gave him a small range of motion. He was trying to escape but everything suddenly flew out the window when he felt hardness against him. He ceased all movement, taking a sharp breath.
Horangi moved away, seeming to have realized König realized he was hard.
“What’s the matter, lieutenant?” König bit back, verbatim of Horangi’s words just a minute ago but it was weak, it wasn’t the same level of sharp tease. It was a pathetic snark.
König quickly made a t-chart of the pros and cons of his options. He could throw professionalism and risk a heavy punishment and get Horangi to fuck his brains out. He could act dumb but Horangi already knew he was just as hard, if not harder. He could pretend this never happened.
“Don’t start something you can’t—“ Horangi’s words trailed into an exasperated noise, like he was desperately trying to hold back, “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
König shifted on his feet, partially to piss Horangi off but to also draw him back, “Horangi.”
The way his voice whined sounded so foreign, but he knew he had Horangi in his clutches, “Let me out and we can—“
The lieutenant’s hands returned to his hips and the sick voice in his head cried in relief, begging for more but he kept the words at bay. There were some curses (he assumed them to be) and words in Korean from behind the wall. Maybe Horangi was asking god for forgiveness.
König felt like he was forbidden fruit, and Horangi was going to partake in his sin.
Hands returned to his belt, one sliding to gently frame his bulge. He made a noise like he was a wounded animal, like he had been shocked.
“All this because you’re stuck in a wall? Waiting for someone to come and give you this?” Horangi asked, “or is this all for me?”
König took too long to answer, he was focused on the hand against his cock. He was lightheaded. Said hand squeezed, and he whined.
“Answer my question, sir.”
“Fuck — It’s cause it’s you,” he replied, hips twitching, seeking friction.
Horangi let out a surprised exhale and a low rumbling noise, hands going to undo his belt. For a moment, the panic returned. Was Horangi really going to fuck him here? The thrill of being caught was exciting, it was the middle of the night, the risk low but never zero.
“We’re really gonna… here…?” He was too embarrassed to say it verbally, like he was a teenager too shy to say the word “sex”.
“I want to make you scream. I’ll pull you out if you want but…” the lieutenant paused, composing himself, “I’m going to fuck your brains out either way.”
“Oh.” the words punched out quietly, shocked at the blunt wording, “Please.”
Horangi would always require clarification. He always asked the most questions before assignments to get a crystal clear picture. “Please ‘pull me out’ or ‘please fuck my brains out’?”
König whimpered at the question, he knew he wouldn’t get anything without clarification, “Please fuck my brains out.”
“Good boy,” Horangi rumbled, “Let’s get you taken care of, hm?”
—
Once his belt was undone, the tension at his hips melted and he could’ve easily slid out, but Horangi was quick to tug his fatigues down, cool air licking up his skin. Horangi’s hands were ungloved and warm, groping his ass and thighs.
“Beautiful,” he praised, making König shiver.
He gently spread his cheeks apart, the colonel made an embarrassed noise, feeling exposed, “Horangi.”
“Shh,” the lieutenant soothed, one hand leaving his ass presumably to wet his fingers, “We don’t have lube, it’ll take a bit.”
König was dizzy. He felt like he was dreaming and he hoped to god he wouldn't wake up. They were in a symbiotic relationship, helping one another. Their desires were perfectly aligned, an end goal in sight. Fingers returned, this time against König’s hole. He whimpered, hips twitching. The hand Horangi had on him tightened, a silent warning to stay still. To be good and take what was given, to not be greedy.
There was no warning when Horangi pressed two fingers into him, making him let out a loud noise between a moan and something else. Horangi’s hand stroked his skin, a soothing motion.
But the lieutenant was cruel, immediately working on opening him up in the most effective way possible, preparing him for something better. König let out a gasp that bled into a moan. The stretch was familiar and welcomed, especially coming from the man he imagined every single time he got off. He swears he’s never been this turned on in his life.
“I’ll make you cry just on my fingers next time. I promise,” Horangi cooed, König’s brain wailing in the pleasure and knowledge that he would get a second time.
“Please,” König begged, no other words coming to mind. He couldn’t find the words to tease and bite back, already weak and ready to give himself up for sacrifice.
Horangi pulled his fingers out to just the tips, a third joining the two. He thought the lieutenant would just add the third but then he spat onto his hole and shoved the third in. König cut off his moan, trying to not be too noisy.
“Now now,” Horangi murmured, fucking his fingers into König in a rough pace. His tone was soothing but the fingers inside of him, stroking his walls, searching for that spot were cruel, “Be noisy. Let me hear you, only I can hear you out here.”
“Horangi,” he whined, the syllables of his name stressed as he got finger fucked, he tried to continue his sentence suddenly, Horangi was pulling his fingers out. The unmistakable sound of a belt being undone and zipper being undone filled his ears.
Horangi pulled back entirely, making König hesitate and squirm again. He noticed movement outside of the corner of his eye, seeing Horangi hop through the second window. He had a feral look in his eyes, ready to absolutely devour his colonel. He stuck his left hand out, giving one command.
“Spit.”
Oh. Horangi was asking him to spit in his hand to use it as-
He whined and used his free hand to hook under his makeshift hood and balaclava under, pulling it just above his lips. He gathered enough saliva in his mouth and spat, doing it once more and Horangi hummed satisfied. He gave no mind to König, the only thing in his eyes was the promise that he would be his undoing. Horangi was careful as he left König’s vision, the warmth behind him returning.
When the lieutenant groaned, König swore under his breath. He sounded better than he had imagined on all of those lonely nights. There was a beat before he felt Horangi’s cock against him.
“Please– fuck me, Horangi please!”
He was sure Horangi’s patience had to be gossamer thin considering the speed of which he took things, there was a harsh noise, a small smack against his ass making him whine, “Impatient little thing aren't you?”
König opened his mouth to give a snarky response but nothing but a low moan came out as Horangi pressed into his heat, moaning himself. König felt like he was being split apart, Horangi’s cock thick and perfect inside of him. The sick voice in his mind cooed that he was made to take Horangi’s dick.
The lieutenant gave him a few moments to adjust, testing the waters with a few small thrusts.
“Fuck,” he groaned, sounding a bit lost in himself. König whined in response, unable to form words.
Without preamble, he found his lieutenant did not make idle threats. He set a brutalizing pace, fucking out every small noise that König had to give him. His own moans were unhidden, unashamed of showing the pleasure he took in König.
Horangi shifted every once in a while, clearly looking for his prostate, ensuring he knew he made no idle threats, that he would be nothing once they were through. König’s choked off whines and moans grew louder, feeling Horangi hammered against his prostate. He tried to keep them quiet but it failed, all of his willpower going to not come. He didn’t want the mind numbing pleasure to end.
“Horangi,” he stuttered on a moan, “If you keep hitting that spot–”
“This spot?” Horangi asked, giving a demonstration, giving a harder thrust and sending König forward with a loud moan, “What? Do you want to come?”
His tone was that of someone talking to a dog. König’s eyes rolled back, feeling shame spread on his nerves like jam on toast, “Not—ah— yet,” he answered.
“So eager to fuck please hm?” he grunted, abusing that spot inside of him, a hand coming to stroke his cock in tandem with his thrusts.
“Horangi,” he wailed loudly, hips moving to try to seek friction in his hand but to fuck himself onto his cock, “I can’t,”
Horangi groaned in response, hand just tight enough and perfect enough, “I’m not stopping you, go on. Come, be a good boy.”
With those words how could he not? He couldn’t stop himself even if he tried, crying out loudly as ropes of cum painted the training wall in front of him and Horangi’s hand. He tightened up, shivering at how Horangi’s pace became erratic but no less brutal and greedy. His hand didn’t stop, even as overstimulation flayed his nerves.
“I can’t,” he sobbed, body shaking, unable to process any thoughts, “Please, I can’t.”
His sobs and pleads for mercy seemed to fuel Horangi further, making him groan, chasing his pleasure. He was using König’s body for himself, with no intention of being a merciful lover. Flames burned in König’s lower abdomen, sobbing and moaning, taking the blissful blinding mix of pain / pleasure that Horangi gave him.
When König repeated he couldn’t think and his mind was numb, a hand smacked against his ass sharply making him impossibly louder, “You can.”
The certainty in his words made him tighten and shiver, making Horangi groan and laugh amazed, “You’re just perfect aren’t you?”
König nodded even if Horangi couldn’t see him, the idea of being perfect just for Horangi fed into the desperate voice in the back of his mind. The voice that wanted to be nothing but a tool for Horangi’s pleasure, a modified piece just like his gun. Something the Korean changed just for himself, for no one else to use but himself.
His voice wasn’t soothed as Horangi continued his path of torture. The overstimulation bit into him, he knew he couldn’t come a second time, not like this. But he welcomed it anyway, wishing to please his lieutenant.
“I’m going to come,” Horangi groaned, asking König where he wanted it without saying those very words.
“Inside, Horangi, inside, please!”
His lieutenant was a simple man, unable to deny his request. König moaned and whined quietly, satiated. Horangi gave him mercy, letting his cock go once he was thoroughly fucked out, focused on his end. The man grunted and stilled, warmth blooming in König. He felt his brains leaking out of his ears, unable to think of doing anything else.
Horangi was pulling out then helping König out and keeping him steady. He locked eyes with the lieutenant before the man was shoving up his makeshift hood and tugging him in to kiss his lips. The kiss wasn’t rough but deep and filthy, a promise for more, a question of possession.
“You okay?” Horangi asked once they parted, König could only nod dumbly, fixing himself up and making himself presentable, the lieutenant following in suit.
Once they were both as proper as they could be, Horangi pulled his hood once more, “You can’t go to anyone else. You don’t. You are all mine, isn’t that right?”
König felt himself turn red, nodding, “Yes, lieutenant.”
He felt like all the power or control he had was nothing when he stood before his lieutenant.
He didn’t mind that, if Horangi wanted him then he’d give himself up. Like a moth to a flame, König was drawn into him.
Horangi helped him walk with his stiff hips and legs, undoubtedly he’d be sore the next day, yet excited for the promises they made silently, eager to see how they’d unfold.