Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 348

Chapter 348: ’Heinz’s Moment Of Weakness.’

’What was that?’

Heinz stormed down the hall, long strides carrying him swiftly away from Florian’s room and into the dimly lit corridors of the palace.

His heart—usually calm even in the tensest negotiations or bloodiest battles—was thundering wildly in his chest, each beat echoing louder than the last. It was infuriating.

Unfamiliar.

He reached his chambers and slammed the door shut behind him, the echo of wood against stone doing nothing to drown out the whirlwind of thoughts raging in his head.

Something had happened.

Something he didn’t understand.

When Florian had thanked him—sincerely, openly, without sarcasm or judgment—Heinz had already been caught off guard. But it wasn’t just the words that threw him off.

It was what came after.

The voice.

No—a voice inside his own head.

"Thank you for loving me, Your Majesty."

It had been Florian’s voice. Undeniably his.

Soft. Warm. Fragile in a way Heinz had never heard before. Drenched in something that felt dangerously like...

Love.

A hallucination? A trick? But no—he had heard it. So vividly it stopped him in his tracks. And the timing—it was the exact moment Florian looked at him with those honest eyes, that almost-shy expression, the sincerity written all over his usually sarcastic face.

’That wasn’t real... was it?’

Heinz paced briefly, then growled under his breath. ’It can’t be. There’s no moment like that. Not with him. Not with the Florian from my first life either.’

So what was it?

He had no answer.

And that made it worse.

The unpredictability of it all, the memory that wasn’t a memory. It struck deeper because he knew Florian had said before that he sometimes inherited flashes of the original’s life—visions, sounds, sensations triggered by certain events. A half-haunting of a life that wasn’t truly his.

But this wasn’t Heinz remembering.

This was him.

’I remember every detail of my past life. I don’t get visions.’ Heinz pressed the heel of his palm into his forehead, like he could somehow knock the thought out of his skull. ’That wasn’t anyone else’s memory. It was in my head. That was my own hallucination.’

And then, the final punch of realization—

He was flustered.

His composure, normally ironclad, had splintered the moment he heard that voice. That thank you. That Your Majesty, spoken with love, not duty. And so, he walked away. Ran, almost.

Cowardly.

He groaned under his breath. "Fuck."

His fingers went up to his collar, ripping the buttons open with less care than usual, yanking the cravat from around his neck like it burned.

His coat and shirt followed next, flung onto the nearest chair. His skin was hot, flushed, like he’d stepped out of battle—but there was no enemy here except confusion.

He dropped onto the edge of his bed, resting his elbows on his thighs, fingers digging into his scalp.

He needed to calm down. To think. To stop the burning heat crawling up his neck and into his thoughts.

But then his eyes drifted downward.

To his pants.

And he saw it.

He froze.

"...Are you kidding me?" Heinz muttered, his voice low, disbelieving.

He hadn’t even realized. But now that he saw it—felt it—he couldn’t unfeel it. The uncomfortable tightness. The pressure beneath the fabric.

He was hard.

’Why? Why now?’

It wasn’t as if Florian had done anything seductive. He hadn’t touched him. Hadn’t teased him. In fact, he was being unusually... kind. Vulnerable. Real.

Maybe that was the problem.

And, right now, he had to fix the problem.

Heinz exhaled harshly through his nose, the sound nearly a growl as he reached down and unfastened his pants. His fingers moved with sharp, impatient intent, yanking the fabric down just enough to free himself.

He hissed through his teeth the moment his cock sprang free—hard, flushed, aching. The cool air did little to ease the burning heat that pooled low in his abdomen.

"Ugh..." Heinz groaned, leaning back on his elbows as his hand wrapped around his shaft. The contact was immediate relief and yet not nearly enough. His fingers tightened reflexively, drawing a sharp breath from his lips as he gave the first slow stroke.

The sensation shot up his spine—tingling, electric. It grounded him and yet unmoored him completely. He tilted his head back, eyes fluttering shut, and let the rhythm take over—slow at first, indulgent, savoring the need that had been simmering just beneath the surface.

’Don’t think. Just feel. Just—fuck—feel.’

But then it came.

"Thank you for loving me, Your Majesty."

’Why can’t I get him out of my head?’

But the harder he tried to banish the voice, the deeper it sank in. Florian’s voice—gentle, almost trembling, laced with a vulnerability that Heinz had never heard before. A voice that didn’t belong to the sarcastic, sharp-tongued boy he knew, and yet... it did.

’It’s just lust. That’s all. Get it out. Just get it out.’

"Your Majesty..."

’No—stop. Stop thinking about him. Fuck.’

"Fuck, yes..." Heinz groaned, the fantasy wrapping around him like a velvet noose. In his mind, Florian leaned forward, tongue flicking against the tip of his cock before taking him deeper, his mouth warm and wet, his throat soft and tight.

"Your Majesty," the voice returned, huskier now. "Heinz..."

That—his name—was the breaking point.

’No—no, don’t say my name like that—’

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify