Chapter Text
In the following weeks, König had begun feeding the cat B-shift found running wild around part of the base late at night - and König Jr. was growing up to be big and strong, just like his adoptive father. Scraggly orange fur, fuzzy white paws disproportionately too-big-for-his-tiny-body, and the cutest amber eyes the world had ever been graced with. Just the sweetest little thing you ever did see.
The little guy was lucky he was so cute, because he was also growing up to be the most devious creature living on base.
König would always put up with his son's antics, even if it meant having to diligently watch his feet whenever he walked in his quarters - because the kitten liked to stalk and pounce onto his boots when he least expected it. Chewed shoe laces, stolen hair ties, plastic bottle toppers, and a small army of fuzzy toy mice were just his most recent victims besides König himself. The kitten had grown large enough the Austrian could ( reluctantly ) leave him in his quarters alone for the day, but even that was hard for him to do. Like a new mom going back to work post-maternity leave, he spent his shifts worried sick over if Jr. was lonely, if he ate something he shouldn’t have, if somehow, someway König had left a window open thus allowing him to run away. The last one was more of an exaggeration his mind brewed up, because he seldomly opened the windows to his apartment at all. The only one he even knew for certain opened was the one in the kitchen, which he had discovered out of necessity; following a very unfortunate incident involving a forgotten pan on the stove, and needing to crack the paint sealing the pane shut to air out the smoke.
On his lunch break, König stopped by his quarters instead of going to the mess hall like the other operatives. Figuring he could subside off a sandwich instead, and spend the half-hour not having to subject himself to the expected awkward pleasantries with other soldiers. His social battery was already running low, and now he had an excuse to eat by himself; since he was sharing the meal with König Jr. He unlocked the door, stepping into the living room his accommodations opened into. It was a meager set up, military lodgings were not luxurious by any means - but it was still nice enough that it was his sole residence, of which he now shared with a small roommate running amok somewhere inside of it. Jr. likely hid out in a corner, ready to pounce on König’s leg when he walked by. The silly thing always brought a smile to his face, he had that going for him at least.
Closing the door behind him, König pulled off his hood, shoving the hem into his pocket to put back on later. Making himself a quick meal in the kitchen, and sitting it aside so he could grab something for Jr. to eat as well. Having weaned the kitten off milk replacement entirely for a few weeks now, he was on a steady diet of soft kibble and wet food. Without a sighting of the tiny orange terror, König grabbed a small can from the pantry. Reading it, as he speaks out into the quiet of his apartment. “Du bekommst „Thunfischfest in Soße“, Kleines. Gute Sache, ja?” ( You're getting 'Tuna Feast in Gravy', little one. Good stuff, yeah? ) The Austrian offered, knowing food was the one sure way to coax the kitten out of whatever hiding place he’d found for himself. König closed the pantry door, going through the motions of walking to the cabinet containing the plates, grabbing a small saucer, and tapping the metal of the can onto the counter a few times before loudly popping it open.
It was all too predictable; König Jr. came running into the kitchen, yelling in high pitched mewls as he demanded to be fed. It brought a warm smile to the Colonel’s face, as he glanced down to the floor to witness the little laps the kitten was doing around him. “Geben Sie mir eine Sekunde, und Sie können die ganze Dose haben.” ( Give me a second, and you can have the whole can. ) He chuckled, tapping the small, pre-proportioned meal into the dish. Apparently, he just simply wasn’t moving fast enough for little Jr.’s liking, as surely if he didn’t eat in the next 30 seconds he was going to wither away. König’s reassurance was only met with more high-pitched demands, and two paws tapping on his calf as the kitten stood on his back legs as if to make sure the wailing was heard all the way up from where König’s ears were. It was too precious.
König was trying to shake the wet food from the can into the dish, as he started to feel little pin pricks and tugging against his pants leg. Mildly startled, he quickly looked down and was greeted to the sight of the kitten scaling up his leg; making it all the way to his hip still demanding to be fed. “Guter Gott, ich werde dich buchstäblich füttern. Beruhige dich, du wirst nicht verhungern. Habe ich dich jemals verhungern lassen, seit ich dich nach Hause gebracht habe?” ( Good god, I'm literally going to feed you. Calm down, you won't starve. Have I ever let you starve since I brought you home? ) He spoke, with a very playful sort of sternness that no one would remotely think was authentically authoritarian. He grabbed the kitten, detaching him from his side and sitting him back onto the floor. “Nein, die Antwort ist nein. Du armes süßes Ding, das hier drin einfach dahinsiecht. Erbärmlich.” ( No, the answer is no. You poor sweet thing, just wasting away in here. Pitiful. )
Before he could even stand back to his full height, the kitten was already climbing his leg again to get onto the counter and eat. He was determined, honestly if you didn’t know any better you’d think the giant was starving the little guy. He was even fed before König even left for his shift that morning; just something small admittedly, while he himself ate breakfast. There was no reason for the drastic measures, but now that Jr. realized he could climb König like a jungle gym there was no stopping him. “Verdammt, du kleiner Schleicher. Gut gut. Lass uns essen.” ( Damn, you little sneak. Fine, Fine. Let's eat. ) The Colonel relented, holding the kitten in his hand once he’d climbed back to his waist. Tossing the can into the recycling, and taking the kitten and the plate beside his kitchen table. Setting them down by his chair, as he took his seat and watched Jr. chow down for a moment, shaking his head in disbelief. It was cute, he thought about sending a video of it to Horangi since as the kitten was eating he was making these adorable grunts between bites he took, his little ears were even wriggling back and forth. For such a tiny thing he was almost aggressive with it, making little ‘omnomnomnom’ noises as he scarfed down the softened meal from the plate.
( Later that same evening )
Following the discovery that he could climb up things, König Jr. only became a bigger handful than König thought possible. Previously, the kitten slept in a bed by König’s dresser; just across from König at night. Being so little, König was worried Jr. would fall off the bed or worse, get squished under the Austrian in his sleep. It was a system that worked well, until Jr. decided otherwise. In the early hours of the morning, delirious with sleep the Colonel stirred as he felt a weird sensation by the side of his head. A tired hand reaching up, being met with a little mew in protest. Surprised, he started to wake up quickly; reaching for the lamp on his nightstand to shed some light onto the situation. The light flicked on, revealing König Jr. had climbed up the blanket and was cuddling the side of König’s face. The Colonel was at a momentary loss for words, confused on how the kitten got there before the realization set in. His little boy was growing up, he couldn’t even be mad about being woken up in the middle of the night.
König gently picked the kitten up, pulling the sheets off himself so he could stand up. Carrying Jr. back to his own bed, and tucking him back in. “Nein, nein, du bist noch zu klein. Ich könnte dich vernichten. Du hast keine Fähigkeiten zur Selbsterhaltung, oder?” ( No no, you are still too small. I could crush you. You have no self-preservation skills, do you? ) König chuckled, smoothing out the cowlick spiking up the fur on top of Jr.’s head forming a tiny orange mohawk. Making sure the kitten was nice and comfortable in his bed for the night instead. “Das ist okay. Du bist zu jung, um es besser zu wissen, ich kümmere mich darum. Mach dir keine Sorge.” ( That's okay. You are too young to know better, I'll take care of it. Don't worry. ) He reassured the sleepy little beast, before going back to bed himself. He wasn’t sure when, but sometime between then, and when his alarm went off - König Jr. was back in König’s bed, fast asleep, and having stolen half a pillow.