Chapter Text
Who knew hanging out with my friends would end up like this?
I feel like this is a little unfair. They said they had a surprise for me, yes, but this is… not what I was expecting. That's all running through my head as they shove me in line.
“Rowan, c’mon, you just gotta trust me when I say this'll be fun!” my friend, Charles, whines and pleads. I grumble and shake him slightly, internally panicking.
While yes, I was more extroverted, I was only like that within my crowd, not… this crowd. These people were wilder, looser, and dangerous. It put every hair on my body standing straight up, goosebumps prickling and raising on my tan skin.
I snap out of it as Charles yells for our other friends, who swerve and cut through the line roughly. One stumbles into me, Leo, as if he were already drunk. I grunt and laugh, ruffling his hair, “Jesus, stand straight, brother.”
Leo snorts and retaliates by shoving me back lightly. I huff as my chains rattle and my pants crinkle. For this oh-so-special occasion of going out, they said to get dressed in the sexiest clothes I had, which doesn't make sense. I don't know if they know the difference between a bar and a club, but I didn't bother to correct them.
Nonetheless, here I am. In the exact opposite, completely punked out. Rebelling against my own friends. I know, so rebellious of me, amirite? I feel like a fool now, but it's too late. Fake it till you make it.
The line moves, and we're bickering and chatting over our typical dumb things. For example, is the ocean a soup? Would one hundred geese win against a gorilla? What tea is the best, or is there a secret third option where tea is actually just nasty? Nah, that couldn't happen. Who would hate tea?
When we get to the bouncer, he scans over me and growls, “ID, kid.”
I awkwardly dig in my pocket at his rough request, handing him my ID, showing that I turn twenty-three today! Yeah, this was my birthday gift; a place I didn't even want to be. He looks me over and gives it back with a slight shove.
I take the card and shove it back in my pocket, slipping inside and waiting for my friends by the entrance. I wasn't going to be here alone. Charles struts in with too much flamboyance, throwing his imaginary hair over his shoulder. I snort at the motion.
“Alright, Leo got caught up at the door, they don't believe his ID is real.” He scoffs. Well, he should've started with that, rather than the show of his non-existent hair. I don't comment, though.
I grumble, my mood already growing more spoiled. “I’m gonna grab a drink, I’ll see you at the bar, yeah?” I spin around before Charles can answer, his voice being drowned out by all the noise in the bar.
I climb up the chair, my feet dangling from the seat. It makes me feel like a kid again. My gaze snaps up, silently flagging the bartender. He comes around, and I order my drink. My gaze mulls over the crowd, the different drunkards being loud and handsy. It makes my stomach churn. I should choose a corner to sit in so I can make sure no one tries to get handsy with me. The corner over there is— not free. Not anymore.
Instead, it's replaced with a bulky, towering man. The ground seems to shake as he sits, mini vibrations flooding the ground with his bouncing leg. He's in full military gear and is probably from the base right next to here. He hunches over and curls in close to himself. A man of his size curling into himself? It's almost comical.
What's not funny, though, is the way my heart flutters just at the mere sight. What's not funny is how my legs start moving towards him automatically. What the fuck's wrong with me?
He looks up at me as I approach. His eyes are a beautiful greyish-blue, piercing my leather-brown eyes. He looks agitated. I don't cower away, though. It only draws me in closer.
“Hey, can I buy you a drink?” I say, barely loud enough for him to hear me above the noisy atmosphere. He narrows his eyes. He doesn't answer, my eyes just pouring my anticipation and hope into his.
It must work, because he sighs and nods curtly. I light up, and something in his eyes reflects my expression. He calls the bartender over as I hobble into the seat next to him. He orders a Beck’s beer, and I silently file it away into my memory folder. His voice is gruff and determined, and a little high-pitched. It sounds a little gentle, too.
I squirm in my seat awkwardly, unsure how to proceed now. I’ve never flirted, let alone with a military man a literal foot taller than me. Along with that, I look like this. An emo freak. Which isn't helping my case.
I shrink into myself, mimicking the same pose he was in before I approached. My confidence is bleeding out of me like water from a broken glass. But before I can spiral, he speaks. “What's your name?”
My heart flutters at the gentleness of his voice. Despite everything he's likely seen and been through as a soldier, he can still maintain his rough and coarse gentleness. My heart skips with adoring admiration. “Oh, I'm Rowan. What about you?” I try to reply smoothly, but I can no longer make eye contact, and my voice trembles ever so slightly.
Jesus, I'm smitten.
His eyes crinkle, almost like he's smiling. “Call me König. Zat ist my callsign.” He says stiffly. He has… he has an accent. My stomach does another flip at something so simple. It's not simple to me, though, as if this man couldn't get any cuter.
Of course, I won't say that to his face. Calling this giant military man cute to his face? Yeah, I’d rather keep my life as it is today. Most people would describe him as hot, but I really think he's just cute.
Okay, and a little hot.
I realize I’m staring, and my face goes a hot red. “O-oh, König? How'd you get the callsign?”
He looks smug, but also squirmish. “Ah, I got it from my last name, it's also a fery mean teaze at me und my size.” He pulls his mask up slightly, sipping from the beer he ordered. His gaze looks reverent on me as he drinks slowly. Before I can confirm he's actually showing interest in me, there's a loud clatter.
We both whip to the sound. It's Leo and another military man. Boy, there sure are a lot of units here tonight. I was so lost in talking with König that I didn't see Leo finally get past the bouncer. There, beer spilt on the other man's shirt, right on his chest.
“Oh my god, I'm so sorry!” Leo squeaks. He's bright red and unable to tear his eyes away from the floor. I feel bad, so I go to help him. But, I get stopped by a soft exhale and chuckle. I look back at König. Is he laughing at my friend?
He cuts in quickly. “I’ve never zeen Gaz zat nervous before.” Gaz, huh? Must be the other soldier's name.
“Oh? How so?” I ask breathlessly. He then leans close to my ear and points discreetly. He's right next to my face. I can't breathe with how many butterflies clutter my stomach. My brain completely forgets about Leo and the other man.
“He ist stuttering a vittle, and he vooks stiff.” König must be observant enough to point that out. He also might know the man.
A slight noise slips from my lips as he’s next to me. “Oh. Is that not how he usually is? Some people may just be nervous to talk to new people.” He sighs and stares at me. His eyes are mesmerizing. I wish I could slip my hands under that mask of his and kiss him.
I clear my throat and blink rapidly, trying to wipe my memory clean. He gives me a knowing look and huffs again. He tilts his head slowly, “Alles okay?”
God, my throat is so dry. I rack my brain for the little German knowledge I had, piecing the translation together. “Ah, yeah… sorry.” I croak. I look back at Leo, who seems to be talking quietly to Gaz, a little calmer. It seems Leo is a little shy, also messing with his hands while he’s speaking to him.
König leans back and groans as he throws back the rest of his drink. He hunches back in his chair, and I just gape in awe. He really is so pretty. He has me wrapped around his gloved finger, for sure. I dig in my pocket for my phone, my hands shaking, absolutely terrified. “H-hey, König? Can I get your phone number?” I hold out my phone, my hand very clearly quaking and trembling.
His eyes go wide, the beautiful blue slats sucking me in as we have a silent staring contest. He seems… shocked. There's no way he's shocked at me asking for his number, right? He must know how beautiful he is. He clears his throat, grabbing my phone with his own shaky hands.
Oh. He's shaking too. That makes my heart jump and skip. He's just as nervous as I am.
“Here.” He says gruffly, almost forcing it out through a collapsing throat. I take my phone back, a number with his name, and a small analog smile. Oh, he's adorable.
“Thank you, König.” My words come out breathlessly, barely tickling the air itself. I save the number and slip it in my pocket, sipping my own drink. “When did you get here?” I blurt, wondering how much longer I have with this man.
He shrugs, waving down the bartender for another beer. “Not too long ago,” he grunts, and I can't help but notice that he can't make eye contact with me. “Vat about you?”
I hum into my fizzy red concoction. I blink slowly. “Oh. I just got here a few minutes ago.” I lick my lips as I sip the liquid. It burns with my liquid courage as it gets thrown down the hatch. We finally connect eyes again, understanding sparking between us that the night is still young, and the entire night is ahead of us. With that being acknowledged, we both become that much looser.
I smile softly, and his eyes crinkle in the semblance of a smile. We both laugh boisterously, our laughs carrying between us, the bar too loud to hear us. It’s a beautiful melody to me, a harmonious string of notes just blessing my ears. It’s lovely. If I were as foolish as everybody says, I would say we were meant to find each other.
And maybe I am foolish, because that's my only thought as the clock ticks away. As the drunk crowd's laughter and rambling dies down. As the sports game shuts off, the empty cups around us pile and pile.
The hours wasted away, and finally, it was nearly closing time. I didn't even realize. The bartender takes our glasses, and I thank him, looking back to König. “You know, I think the bar is closing.”
He chuckles, “Ah, veally? I would hafe never guessed.” He whispers, his cheek squashed into the palm of his hand through his mask.
I snort and lick my lips again. “Thanks for accompanying me. You made this place bearable to hang out in.” I grin and nudge him slightly, winking. All that drinking kicked in as I went to stand, wobbling and nearly falling over, only being caught by the hulking mass behind me. I lean into the warmth unconsciously. I feel him flex his fingers around my shoulders as he walks me out the door.
“A vittle bit of a lightweight, aren't we?” He chuckles and tucks a hair behind my pointed ear.
I feel lightheaded from both the vodka in my drink and the fact that he's touching me. His big hands barely graze my neck, revealing that sometime during our conversation, he took off his gloves. It makes me even dizzier.
I feel another pair of hands on me as I'm handed over by König. I open my eyes— which I hadn't even realized I closed— and know it's Leo. I whine as I see Gaz and König together. Were we leaving? Were we leaving without König?
Through the haze, I don't see him stiffening at my sound or turning red under the mask. I don't know how his fingers flex with the need to reach back out for me.
Leo begins to simmer away with me next to him. I whimper again and lazily raise a hand, “Bye König…” I slur, the words coming out fuzzy.
He hums and strides forward, ruffling my hair, and waves. I blush and croak, staring at him with wonder and admiration. My body is ecstatic and floating just from a bit of contact. “Goodbye, Rowan.” He grunts and cocks his head as Leo and Gaz say goodbye, also.
Leo drags me away to the car.
We were meant to find each other, weren’t we?