Chapter Eleven
Adrik
Adrik woke slowly, the kind of slow where the world was softened around the edges. Warm breath brushed his cheek, and when he opened his eyes, Hans was right there curled in close, their foreheads almost touching. For a moment, Adrik just watched him sleep. He looked peaceful, younger somehow.
Before he could overthink it, Adrik leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Hans’ lips.
“Mm,” Hans murmured, waking with a small smile.
“I love waking up with you beside me,” Adrik whispered. His voice came out rough, but honest. That warm feeling hit him again, and he didn’t mind.
Hans smiled wider. “Me too.”
“I’ve never spent an entire night with anyone before. No one has ever even seen my bed.”
“Really? Why not?”
“You don’t bring hookups home.”
“So, I’m not just a hookup to you?”
“No. You have very quickly become important to me.” He inched closer and kissed Hans. Adrik grabbed the lube from the bedside table. “Let’s wake up like men.”
Hans’ smile widened, his gorgeous hazel eyes sparkling with pure glee. “Ready over here.”
“Sit up against the headboard,” Adrik told him.
Adrik inched closer to Hans, his heart pounding, then leaned over to kiss his lips.
He rubbed lube into his hand and lubed his erection and then Hans’ limp dick, stroking it with his hand until it hardened.
Adrik aligned their erections in one hand, so they rested side by side, as he covered both of them with more lube.
“You know how to use your beautiful cock,” Adrik said, while he stroked their cocks.
“Any complaints about your big dick?” Hans teased.
“Never.”
“I forgot you fuck both women and men.”
“Don’t you?” Adrik couldn’t figure out why Hans was so fixated on his bisexuality.
“No, Adrik.” He left the words hanging in the air.
“We shouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Why not?”
“We have more important things to do. What time do we have to be at the university?”
“Two hours.”
“Let’s see if we can come together,” Adrik suggested, still stroking their cocks as one. He loved seeing their cocks held together in his hand.
“Do it then.”
Adrik laughed at Hans mimicking how he answered.
Hans grinned, the sexy kind. “Hmmm feels so good.” He closed his eyes and by his expression, he was lost in all the sensations fluttering through him.
“Are you close?” Hans whispered.
Adrik nodded, breathing deeper, as both gasped and moaned together.
“Ready?”
Adrik stroked one more time, and they shared their explosions. They were both covered with it.
“That’s an A plus, Adrik.”
“I needed that to bring up my grades, Professor Hans.” Messy as hell, he pulled Hans into his lap and kissed him. They held on, taking turns kissing each other.
They eventually dragged themselves out of bed, showered, and got dressed. They stopped at a small restaurant on the way to the train station to eat breakfast.
They both ordered the Farmer’s Breakfast, which was a hearty mix of eggs, potatoes, and vegetables.
The server poured them coffee before the meal.
Adrik wasn’t used to eating breakfast without bacon or sausage, but he didn’t want to figure out the complicated German menu—he spoke the language better than read it—nor did he want to ask Hans, who seemed absorbed in his own thoughts.
“I’m going to drop you off at the language lab where tourists learn German. I think learning the language will make a big difference.”
“Thanks. That’s exactly what I need.”
“My meeting is only for an hour, so you can register and work on the computer. There’s a professor in the lab to assist you.”
“Thanks.”
By the time they were on the train to the University of Rostock, Adrik was convinced the universe had set him up.
The rhythmic clatter of the tracks was supposed to be calming, but all it did was remind him he was hurtling toward certain humiliation.
Every sign, every announcement, every cheerful conversation around them—German.
Endless German. It was like the language had staged a coup, and he was the only one who hadn’t gotten the memo.
The real problem was he had missed New York City.
He missed speaking English and hearing English.
All this German reminded him why he had to leave.
The campus looked picturesque as they stepped off the train, the sounds of distant laughter filling the air.
Old stone buildings with ivy climbing as if it owned the place, tall windows that had probably seen centuries of smarter students, and sleek glass additions that screamed modernism and were intimidating.
Students zipped past on bikes, laughing like they’d already mastered five languages before lunch.
Adrik shoved his hands in his pockets, muttering to himself that he’d be lucky to master ordering a sandwich.
The language lab was the final punchline.
Bright white walls, rows of computers with headsets that looked like medieval torture devices, and posters about phonetics and grammar plastered everywhere—like motivational slogans for people who enjoyed suffering.
The air smelled faintly of coffee and printer ink, which would’ve been comforting if everyone else hadn’t seemed perfectly at ease.
Students slipped into booths, adjusted their microphones, and started rattling off German like it was their native tongue.
Adrik sat down, headphones heavy on his ears, and thought: Fantastic.
I’m about to embarrass myself in Dolby surround sound.
“You’ll be fine,” Hans said, nudging him lightly. “The language center is used by beginners. Tons of tourists come here.”
“I’m not a tourist, or I’d be surfing on the Baltic right about now.”
“It’s too cold, but some do. Do you even know how to surf?”
“New Yorkers leave the state sometimes. Yes, my tutor taught me.”
“Tutor?”
“Yes, my tutor.” Adrik had already said too much. What the fuck was wrong with him this morning? He might as well tell Hans who he really was at this rate, then he could mourn him too.
“Your rich papa paid for a tutor for his spoiled son?”
Adrik nodded. And now Hans thought his father had spoiled him. In some ways, his father had overindulged him with lots of amenities. People like Hans had no idea about who his father was or how he treated Adrik. No one needed to know any of that.
“I’ll come back for you.”
“Okay.”
The class wasn’t bad. The instructor was patient, and the other students seemed friendly enough. He was starting to relax when a blonde girl walked into the lab—pretty, confident, smiling right at him like she already knew him.
She sat beside him. “Hallo,” she said, then switched to accented English. “You’re new here?”
Adrik nodded. “Yeah. Just started today.”
She laughed lightly, twirling a strand of hair. “Your accent is cute.”
He blinked, unsure what to do with that. “Uh… thanks?”
She leaned in a little, clearly enjoying his awkwardness. He wasn’t flirting back—he was mostly confused—but he didn’t want to be rude either. She interrupted his audio lessons many times during the hour. She was coming on to him. At least she spoke some English.
He stayed after the class ended to work on more lessons trying to ignore her politely. Then he felt it: a shift in the air behind him.
Hans.
Adrik turned, and Hans stood in the doorway, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the girl sitting too close. His expression wasn’t angry exactly, but it definitely wasn’t happy.
“Ready to go?” Hans asked, voice clipped.
Adrik stood quickly. “Yes. I—she was just—”
“It’s fine,” Hans said, even though it clearly wasn’t. He didn’t look at Adrik again as he turned and walked out.
Adrik hurried after him, but by the time he reached the hallway, Hans was gone. Just gone. Like he’d evaporated into the crowd.
A sudden wave of dread settled in Adrik’s chest. He went back and signed out of the lab like he was supposed to.
He needed to have learned German without Sergei’s Russian accent.
He knew more than the basics, was in fact quite fluent, and Sergei had made him memorize fifty sentences that would help no matter what the situation.
The blonde girl walked over to him again. “Professor Schroeger is a dick!”
“Why would you say that?”
“He refused to share a hotel room when we went to a convention in Munich.”
Adrik just stared at her. “I’ve got to catch a train. See you again, maybe.”
She stuffed a card with her phone number into Adrik’s hand. “Call me.”
Adrik read her business card. Her name was Amelia Dirksen, graduate assistant.
“Thanks.” Adrik left in a hurry and then took the train home alone. Throughout the entire ride, he kept replaying Hans’ face, the tightness around his mouth.
He called him. No answer.
Called again. Nothing.
By the time Adrik reached the cottage, he couldn’t sit still.
The dead silence only made everything worse.
He grabbed his jacket and headed straight for the gay bar Hans liked—the one tucked just down the road, warm light spilling through the windows like it was trying to lure people in from the cold.
Inside, the place was buzzing. A man near the front was squeezing an accordion like it owed him money, belting out a loud German drinking song while half the bar shouted the lyrics back at him.
A guitarist sat beside him, strumming along with a grin that said he’d been dragged into this chaos but wasn’t complaining.
Beer mugs slammed against tables, people laughed too loudly, and the entire room smelled like hops, wood polish, and the faintest hint of fried onions.
Adrik didn’t understand a single word of the song, but the rhythm was impossible to ignore—messy, joyful, alive. It should’ve been comforting.
It wasn’t.
His eyes went straight to the bar.