Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight!
Chapter 384: ’Wrong!’

Chapter 384: ’Wrong!’

’I thought this was supposed to be funny.’

But Heinz wasn’t laughing. Not even close.

When Alexandria had proposed this little "test," it was obvious from the start that part of it was playful revenge for the trial Florian had orchestrated for the princesses. Something to fluster him, embarrass him—an innocent prank, really.

Heinz should’ve been amused. Normally, he would be. Florian’s constant antics, his dramatic flailing, his endearing ability to get flustered over the smallest things—it was one of the things Heinz adored most about him.

But he hadn’t been prepared for this.

The moment Florian stepped out wearing that maid outfit—the tight, dark violet fabric clinging to his slender waist, the frilly silver apron tied perfectly at the back, the lace choker around his neck, and those damn thigh-high stockings—something inside Heinz just broke.

’Oh, you naive little thing...’

He’d expected to be entertained. What he hadn’t expected was to feel his entire body react violently, heat surging straight down as his fingers twitched with restraint under the table.

Gods, the sheer restraint it took not to command every person in the room to get the hell out.

To shove the plates aside, drag Florian onto his lap, press those trembling thighs open—

Heinz inhaled sharply, forcing his fist to clench against his lips just to stop the groan threatening to escape. His other hand gripped the edge of the table like a lifeline. Thank the gods the heavy tablecloth covered his lower half—because what he was feeling right now was anything but subtle.

’He has no idea...’

No idea that Heinz remembered everything. Every sinful detail from that drunken night. The taste of his lips. The sound of his moans. The way his body trembled beneath him.

And any trace of denial Heinz once had—the denial he’d clung to for weeks—was obliterated.

He wanted Florian.

No.

He needed Florian.

Every squirm, every stammer, every shade of pink that bloomed on Florian’s pretty face only fed that gnawing, primal desire twisting in Heinz’s gut.

And now...

Now Florian was walking closer. Steps small. Hesitant. Oblivious to the wildfire he was stoking with every innocent movement.

"P...Pardon me, Your Majesty," Florian muttered, voice shaking ever so slightly as he approached Heinz’s side. His hands were delicate, careful as he reached out to place the plate before him.

Heinz was supposed to be judging the table setting. Evaluating the spacing. The neatness. The alignment.

But how could he, when the only thing he could focus on was the way Florian’s body shifted when he bent forward—just slightly—to adjust a misplaced fork.

The skirt lifted. Just enough.

Just enough to reveal a sinful peek of those stocking-clad thighs, the garter strap pressing into soft skin.

’Fucking hell.’ Heinz’s jaw clenched. His pulse was pounding in his ears.

Florian was tense. Unaware. Too focused on getting through this test to even think Heinz would do something.

And that false sense of security... made Heinz’s smirk curl even sharper.

’Oh, Florian... you forget. I’m the most powerful man in this kingdom. In this entire world.’

Magic hummed beneath Heinz’s fingertips, subtle, dangerous.

He lifted one finger discreetly, pretending to rest his hand casually near his lips. No one noticed—everyone was too busy watching Florian’s flustered little performance.

’For the greater good of my mental health...’ Heinz mused darkly, ’I think I deserve a reward.’

A simple flick of magic.

Magic sparked quietly at Heinz’s fingertips, subtle enough that no one would notice.

Just as Florian leaned over to straighten the placement of the cutlery—his delicate hands adjusting a slightly misaligned spoon—Heinz’s magic shifted beneath the table.

The table, ever so slightly, nudged forward.

Just a mere inch. Enough to make it seem accidental. Enough to break Florian’s balance.

"Ah—!"

Florian gasped, his body jolting forward with a sudden stumble. His hand instinctively shot out to stop himself, but the distance was just wrong enough—he was going down.

Or at least, he would’ve—if it weren’t for Heinz.

In one smooth motion, Heinz moved. Arms out. Catching Florian effortlessly, like it was perfectly timed. His strong grip wrapped around Florian’s slim waist, steadying him as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

"Careful," Heinz murmured, voice smooth—far too smooth.

Florian’s face burned red as he tried to pull away quickly, flustered beyond comprehension. "S-Sorry, Your Majesty! I lost my balance, I—"

But before he could finish, Heinz’s hands—those hands—slid.

Lower.

Far too low to be accidental.

Fingers gliding down the curve of Florian’s waist, tracing along the edges of the frilly apron, before shamelessly slipping down to the soft flesh of his thighs—his bare thighs, where the stocking ended, exposing warm skin.

A sharp, startled inhale escaped Florian’s lips. His green eyes snapped wide open, trembling as he stared at Heinz.

"W-What are you—?" he whispered, voice barely audible, caught between panic, confusion, and... something far more dangerous.

But Heinz only smiled.

"Oh... Slid down by accident," he replied, voice dipped in fake innocence, laced with a smugness that made Florian’s knees almost buckle. His thumb lazily traced a slow, featherlight circle against the sensitive skin just beneath the garter strap.

Florian trembled. Physically trembled under that touch. His entire body stiffened, yet he was frozen—half leaning against Heinz, half trying to pull away.

Florian’s lips parted as if to say something—anything—but no sound came out.

’He’s completely dazed.’

Florian snapped out of it just barely, forcing himself upright, turning quickly—back facing Heinz, his hands tightening into nervous fists.

’Hm?’

Heinz let out a soft hum, casually resting his chin against the back of his hand like nothing happened.

But his gaze darkened, trailing down to his palm—the very palm that had just caressed Florian’s thighs.

It still felt warm.

’I wonder...’ Heinz’s lips curved upward in a lazy, wicked smirk. ’I wonder how he’ll react if I bite his thigh next time.’

His fingers twitched at the thought. The temptation was unbearable.

If Florian thought Heinz wasn’t going to do anything after getting a taste of him twice, he was wrong.

Very wrong.