Rob Zombie - American Made Music To Strip By (1999)

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Out of Touch

Homecoming | König x m!reader

@satan-incarnate-666 asked: "I need to go outside and scream for about two hours"

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summary: König comes home in a bad mood, but you're not about to let him stay like that.

tws: swearing, smoking

A pint glass of Red Bull sat on the bedside table as some shitty horror film played on the television, lighting up the room ever so slightly as you relaxed on the bed, waiting for König to come home; he had texted you to tell you when he was on his flight, and again when he was in the taxi home. He always did that; a text when he was in the car, a text before he got on the plane, a text when he was five minutes around the corner. You made sure that the front door was unlocked, that the light in the kitchen was on and everything was ready for him when he got home; König always asked you not to wait up for him if he returned late at night, he didn't want you to lose any sleep, but you always did. You always waited up for him, regardless of how long it took. You always waited, and König did, too; when you were on your way home from the RAF base, you would text him once when you first left, and again when you were just around the corner, always telling him not to wait up for you but knowing that he would anyway.

You paused the film when you heard the door open, waiting for it to close and lock before you finally made your way over, grinning when you saw König; slowly, he removed his mask as he tilted his head to the side and opened his arms. Within seconds, you had your arms around him, buried against his body as you sniffled and clung onto him; with as much tenderness as he could muster, König slowly returned the embrace. Holding you tightly as he bent down enough to press the side of his head against yours, groaning softly as he turned his head, kissing your cheek so gently; around you, he didn't need to wear the mask, and he most certainly did not need to worry about being mocked or teased - at least, not beyond the flirtatious kind, but that was the kind of teasing he liked, especially when it came from you. You pulled away from him, gently tracing his jaw with the tip of your index finger; he didn't look tired, but then again, he did usually sleep on the plane when he was coming home.

"You feeling okay?"

"I need to go outside and scream for about two hours," he admitted quietly, a frown on his face. "The American Kapitän was... mean."

Your jaw clenched as you stared up at him, furrowing your brows. "Were they, now?"

König nodded, hunching over slightly as he frowned. "Sehr."

You gritted your teeth, shoving your hands into the pockets of your hoodie - which used to be his - so that you could clench your fists without him seeing; König never liked it when you got angry, always having to grab you by the back of your shirt to stop you from getting into fights, he didn't like the thought of someone upsetting you. "Did you get their name?"

König shook his head. "Bitte... don't go getting into a fight for me."

You unclenched your jaw, and put on a false smile as you cleared your throat and shook your head. "I won't, baby, don't worry... go roll yourself a cigarette, I'll be right back."

He took off after kissing your forehead, knowing exactly where everything was and helping himself; but while he was out in the kitchen, you pulled your phone out, and opened the group chat that you had with your squadron. Quickly, you texted them, demanding to know the name and address of the American Captain who had upset your boyfriend, and immediately, Perveen texted back saying he would find it for you - Bashar agreed, and even offered to come up with an alibi for you if you needed one, as well as telling you where Perveen kept his grandfather's kirpan, should you need it. Perveen offered to clean it and sharpen it, if you wanted to. But after thanking them and letting them know that you would, indeed, be borrowing the blade, you headed out to see König in the kitchen.

He was sat at the table as he smoked, the glass ashtray he had bought for you was beside him, and when he saw you, he spread his legs and leaned back a little, letting you sit on his lap as he laid his arm around you lazily; if there was anything he was thankful for in that moment, it was having his boyfriend sitting on his lap while he smoked, the peace and quiet and sheer domestic nature of it almost overwhelming. He felt safe, he felt content. Merely existing with one another as you pressed your face against the side of his neck and hummed so gently, sending a shiver down his spine.

"I no longer want to scream."

"No?" You dared to press a kiss to the soft skin of his neck as you dared to smile.

König nodded, leaning into the touch as he sighed. "Nein... I have you here... I'm happy."

That's all you needed to hear, enough to make your temper pause for a moment as you leaned into him and yawned quietly, letting him dip his hand under your hoodie so that he could feel the warmth of your stomach against his hand; just to feel your skin, to be exposed to your warmth, it was the most calming thing in the world for König. A reminder that you were there, you wouldn't leave, you would always stand up for him and fight his corner. He smiled a little, finishing the cigarette and putting it out.

"Es tut mir leid," he mumbled. "Did you want one, Bärchen?"

"In a bit," you reached one hand up his shirt, letting it rest on his chest as you sighed. He was always so warm, always so comforting to the touch. "I've got Freddy Vs Jason on, by the way... I know it's a fucking shit film, but we could always grab some snacks, snuggle up and watch it."

"I'd like that," König nodded, letting you lead the way to the bedroom after getting the snacks, especially his favourites. He stood a little straighter now, although he did have to duck to get through the doorframe, not wanting to hit his head on it again, even though he knew that he had you to kiss it better.

You waited for him to get in the bed first so that you could put everything down on the bedside table, letting him press his back against the pillows before you dared to snuggle up to his side, pulling the blankets up to your shoulders and lazily throwing your leg across him, resting one hand on his stomach, under his shirt so that you could feel his warm body; he put his arm around you, sneaking his hand under the hoodie so that he could feel you against him that little bit more. You grabbed the television remote, and pressed play; once again, the dull light from the screen partially lit up the room.

"I'll sort your stuff out in the morning," you told him. "I'll chuck everything in the wash."

"I can do it," König said softly, but you shook your head.

"No, you won't, tomorrow your only job is to sit back and relax - you've been away for long enough, you just worry about taking some time off."

"As you say, Bärchen," he mumbled, wriggling around a little bit more so that he could really get comfortable.

"I'm not saying," you playfully corrected. "I'm ordering."

"Es tut mir leid," he laughed quietly. "Kapitän... mein Kapitän."

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"All yours," you murmured, kissing his neck. "Always."

You weren't about to tell him that your squadron had found the name and address of the American capitan, though, you knew that he didn't want you to get into trouble for him but you couldn't help it; as his boyfriend, it was your job to make sure that he was safe and sound and that some stupid bastard wasn't bullying him. It was your job to protect him, and you would do anything to make sure that nobody would mess with him.

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