Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 70

Chapter 70: ’Only With You’

Charles didn’t move.

Neither did Florian.

The silence between them stretched unbearably thick, pressing against Florian’s chest like a weight he couldn’t shake off. The way Charles stared at him—sharp, unwavering, laced with something Florian couldn’t quite name—pinned him in place, locking him in a moment of sheer, excruciating humiliation.

’Oh my fucking god. What the hell am I saying?’

But it was too late to turn back now. He had already thrown himself off the proverbial cliff—might as well brace for the landing.

Slowly, Charles blinked. Once. Twice. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. A deep furrow settled between his brows, his expression a careful mixture of disbelief, suspicion, and something that almost looked like concern.

"You were going to—" Charles exhaled sharply through his nose, running a hand over his face before trying again. "You’re telling me... you were going to shove that inside yourself?"

Florian’s fingers tightened around the crude spear. His throat felt painfully dry. He forced himself to nod, jerky and hesitant.

’Time to commit to the bit. I am going to hell for this.’

"I-It’s not what you think," he stammered, his voice trembling just enough to make it believable. Shifting uncomfortably, he squeezed his thighs together for added effect, letting his gaze dart away as though he couldn’t bear to look Charles in the eye. "You don’t understand. In my kingdom, it’s... it’s normal. For men. When we reach a certain age, we—" He sucked in a shaky breath, fingers curling against the rough wood. "We... have a need."

Charles’ expression darkened, his stare unblinking.

"A need," he repeated flatly.

Florian nodded frantically. "A need for... contact."

Charles didn’t respond immediately. His gaze flickered over Florian’s face, searching, dissecting. His fingers twitched slightly at his side.

Florian swallowed hard and pushed forward before his nerves could betray him. "We usually have tools for this sort of thing back in the castle. I—I had a whole collection. Custom-made. High quality."

’WHAT AM I EVEN SAYING?!’

The moment the words left his mouth, Florian fought the urge to bash his head against the wall. But he had already gone this far—there was no stopping now.

Forcing himself to look ashamed, he lowered his voice to a near whisper. "But I don’t have any of them here. And it’s been... too long." He let a tremor run through him, just enough to sell the act. "So I—I had to make do."

Charles’ eye twitched.

Florian held his breath.

The tension in the room was suffocating. For a moment, Charles did nothing—just stood there, staring at him like he was trying to decide whether Florian was utterly deranged or the best liar he’d ever met.

Then, in a voice as flat as a blade against stone, Charles muttered, "You expect me to believe that."

Florian hesitated, then nodded weakly. "I-I’m not lying."

Another unbearable pause.

Then—

Charles let out a slow, measured exhale and dragged a hand down his face, looking like he was physically restraining himself from saying something much, much worse. A muscle in his jaw ticked, and his eyes flickered with something unreadable.

’Please buy it. Please buy it. Please buy it.’

Finally, Charles let out a low sigh. His gaze, dark and unreadable, locked onto Florian with unnerving intensity.

"Prove it."

"P-Prove it?" Florian’s voice cracked, his face flushing a furious shade of red.

’Oh, fuck me. I did not think this through.’

He was starting to regret every single life decision that had led him to this moment, because there was no way in hell he was shoving a goddamn spear inside himself. One, he was straight. Two, it would definitely hurt. Three, and most importantly, he was straight.

But he had to get out of this somehow.

Florian’s mind raced, searching desperately for an escape—some loophole, some way to turn this around before he was forced to commit to the worst bluff of his life. His heart hammered in his chest, every muscle screaming at him to run, to do something, before Charles called his bluff.

And then—an idea.

A horrible, terrible, gut-wrenching idea.

’Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. Do I really have to do this?’

Yes. Yes, he did.

Florian inhaled sharply and forced himself to move, his fingers uncoiling from the spear. He let it drop to the ground with a dull clatter, his hands trembling just enough to look convincing. Then, before he could second-guess himself, he stepped forward—closer to Charles, close enough to feel the heat radiating off of him.

"Why settle for that," Florian murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "when I have you?"

He saw it. The flicker in Charles’ eyes.

A shift.

’Oh, god. He’s buying it.’

Florian swallowed down the scream clawing up his throat and pushed on. He let his gaze flicker downward—just briefly, just enough—and then back up through his lashes. He was playing a dangerous game, one he hated, but he had no choice.

His fingers brushed against Charles’ chest, barely there, just the ghost of a touch.

"I mean," he continued, voice soft and laced with forced hesitation, "it’d be... better. More real. You could help me, couldn’t you?"

Charles’ breathing hitched, just slightly.

Florian felt sick.

A strong arm wrapped around his waist in one swift motion, yanking him forward. Florian gasped, his breath hitching as a jolt of panic shot through him. Charles’ grip was tight, fingers pressing in with an unsettling firmness.

Far too close.

Florian forced himself to hold his ground, even as his pulse pounded in his ears. He had to sell this. He had to.

Florian exhaled shakily, making sure to sound frustrated, needy. "I know," he murmured, letting his fingers trail up Charles’ chest, slow and deliberate. "But what if I don’t want to wait?"

"Am I?" Florian whispered, tilting his head up. He let his lips barely brush Charles’ chin before pulling away. "Or am I just making things easier for you?"

’If Kaz was here she would be hollering at my expense.’

Then, suddenly, he yanked Florian flush against him.

Florian barely held back a gasp as Charles’ lips hovered just above his own, so close he could feel the warmth of his breath.

"You think I don’t know what you’re doing?" Charles murmured, his voice low, teasing, but thick with something else. Something dangerous.

Charles’ lips curled. "Liar."