Chapter 497: ’What Could He Possibly...’
"I-I..."
’He’s still not done with this?’
The words caught in his throat, fragile and trembling.
What was Florian even supposed to say? His mind was a whirlwind, spinning between disbelief and confusion.
Did Heinz truly miss him? Heinz—who always carried himself like stone, who seemed incapable of wanting, of needing anyone.
’I don’t think he knows what he’s saying.’
Florian’s chest tightened painfully. He didn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend—but as always, whenever Heinz’s hands were on him, his mind went hazy, his body unmoored, like he was caught in a tide too strong to fight.
His lips moved before his mind could stop them.
"I... missed you too."
The confession was barely above a whisper, so fragile it could have been lost to the silence of the corridor—yet Heinz heard it.
The king’s eyes darkened, crimson flaring with something primal. Then came a sound, low and guttural, reverberating in Florian’s chest—a growl so raw it hardly seemed human.
Before Florian could draw another breath, Heinz seized him again, pulling him forward, their mouths colliding in another bruising kiss.
Florian’s body melted against him despite himself, heat pooling in his chest, flooding his veins. Heinz’s lips were relentless, unyielding, and Florian moaned softly into the kiss before he could swallow it back.
One of Heinz’s hands slid upward, rough and deliberate, until it curled possessively around the slender column of Florian’s neck.
The touch wasn’t gentle—it was a claim.
Florian’s knees nearly buckled, his heart hammering, every nerve alight. His head spun, his body trembling, dizzy with both fear and something he loathed to name.
’I hate how good this feels all the time...’
He tried to resist the sound bubbling up in his throat, but failed—his lips parted in a soft, breathless moan, swallowed instantly by Heinz’s demanding mouth.
The heat between them deepened, searing, spiraling out of control—until the sharp echo of footsteps rang down the corridor.
Florian’s eyes shot wide, panic slicing through the haze.
’Someone’s coming!’
Adrenaline surged, giving strength where fear made his limbs weak. He shoved against Heinz’s chest with every ounce of force he could muster.
Caught off guard, Heinz actually staggered back, his crimson gaze flashing in surprise.
He took two steps away, confusion etched into his sharp features as he stared at Florian, as if unable to comprehend why he had been pushed aside.
The sharp clack of shoes against stone drew closer—too close. Florian’s breath caught in his throat, panic clawing its way up his chest as elongated shadows spilled across the sunlit floor.
His heart hammered like a drum as the sound grew louder, louder—
And then a group of servants rounded the corner.
They froze.
Their eyes widened, flicking instinctively to the sight of the king and Florian pressed against the wall.
For one heartbeat, silence hung heavy and damning, a noose tightening around Florian’s neck.
No one moved.
Then, as though the moment had never existed, the servants lowered their gazes all at once. Their bows came sharp, practiced, too-perfect. "Your Majesty. Your Highness."
Florian’s face burned scarlet. His lips were still swollen, tingling from Heinz’s kiss, and his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths.
He could still feel the ghost of Heinz’s weight against him, still feel the heat of the king’s knee pressed where it shouldn’t have been. His hands trembled faintly at his sides.
And yet—none of them dared linger. Not a single pair of eyes looked long enough to betray recognition of what they had walked into.
With quiet precision, they moved on, their footsteps echoing until they faded into the distance.
Florian pressed his back harder against the wall, trying to steady himself, but Heinz had already straightened.
The king adjusted his cloak with unhurried composure and started walking as though nothing at all had happened.
Florian swallowed hard, dragging himself forward to follow.
Side by side, their boots struck the polished stone in unison, the sound reverberating up the high ceiling.
The silence that followed pressed thickly around them, so suffocating it felt as though it was weighing directly on Florian’s chest.
His thoughts spiraled, chasing themselves like restless birds.
’God. What’s with me? Did I really just say I missed him? That’s just... I don’t even think he meant it that way! It’s just... he’s horny, but then again...’
His fists clenched at his sides, his pace faltering for half a step before he forced himself to match Heinz’s stride.
Because the truth gnawed at him: every time Heinz touched him, his mind went blank, his body betraying him again and again.
The more it happened—the more nights blurred together, the more times Heinz pulled him close, pressed into him, claimed him—the harder it became to tell himself it was only Heinz who wanted it.
Two, sometimes three times a day. Every time left him aching, breathless, dazed... and yet—
’It feels so good... too good. I hate how much I’ve started wanting it too.’
His face heated to a deeper shade, his chest stumbling against the weight of his own thoughts. Risking a glance to the side, his gaze brushed over Heinz’s calm, steady profile.
The king looked utterly unaffected, as though the world hadn’t just shifted between them.
Florian snapped his eyes away, his pulse a wild staccato.
Then Heinz’s voice cut through the silence, deep and deliberate, like a blade sliding free of its sheath.
"...I remembered something."
Florian blinked, startled, his heart lurching. "What... do you mean?"
Heinz’s crimson eyes slid to him, sharp as ever, unreadable. "I had something prepared for you. Before tomorrow. A gift, of sorts."
Florian stopped short, confusion flickering across his features.
’A gift?’
His brows knit together, emerald eyes narrowing slightly as his lips parted in surprise. "A... gift? But... you didn’t have to."
Really—he didn’t have to. Tomorrow might have been the birthday everyone expected him to celebrate, but deep down Florian knew the truth.
’Again...it isn’t really mine. It’s the original Florian’s.’
Heinz didn’t answer right away. His gaze lingered—too steady, too heavy—burning against Florian’s skin until it prickled, until he was forced to look away.
His heart thudded faster beneath that crimson stare, as though Heinz could see through every thought he dared not voice.
At last, Heinz’s voice broke the silence, low and deliberate. "I wanted to."
The words carried a weight that left no room for protest.
Before Florian could form another response, Heinz moved. A firm hand pressed against the small of his back—not rough, but commanding, guiding him forward.
"Come."
Florian’s breath hitched at the contact. The heat of Heinz’s palm seeped through the fabric of his clothes, startling in its intimacy. His steps faltered, but Heinz’s touch left him no choice but to move.
Emerald eyes flicked upward, catching the sharp lines of Heinz’s face—composed, unreadable, utterly resolute.
Florian swallowed hard, uncertainty swirling within him.
’Where is he taking me? What could he possibly...’