Chapter Twenty-Three
Adrik
Adrik walked the short path to Hans’ cottage with his hands shoved in his jacket pockets, trying to look casual, even though his pulse had been climbing since he left his place.
The sky had a soft winter-blue tint, the kind that made everything feel sharper, more immediate.
He kept touching the side of his thigh as he walked—a restless habit he couldn’t shake tonight.
He knocked once.
The door opened almost immediately, and there was Hans—warm light behind him, hair a little mussed, shirt hanging just right. Gorgeous unintentionally and that always hit Adrik harder than he expected.
For a second, Adrik forgot every German phrase he’d practiced.
“Hi, Hans,” he managed, the words coming out low and a little rough.
Hans’ grin was small but unmistakably pleased, like he’d been waiting for that.
Hans stepped aside, and Adrik slipped in. The door clicked shut behind them, and something in Adrik snapped into place like the space between them had been stretched too thin all day.
He removed and hung up his jacket, then reached for Hans without thinking, guiding him back against the wall with a gentle but certain pressure.
Hans let out a soft breath, surprised but not resisting.
Adrik leaned in, brushing their mouths together in a light kiss at first—testing, savoring—before deepening it when Hans tilted his chin up in invitation.
Hans’ arms slid to Adrik’s shoulders, fingers curling slightly, pulling him closer. The warmth of his palms bled through the shirt fabric, grounding and electric at the same time. The tension Adrik had been carrying all day loosened in one long exhale.
“I missed you,” he murmured against Hans’ lips.
Hans’ forehead rested briefly against his. “Missed you too.”
They lingered there for another heartbeat, breathing the same air, before Hans nudged him gently toward the living room.
Adrik followed and then stopped short.
The place looked completely different. Immaculate. Organized. Nothing was out of place. The faint scent of lemon and florals hung in the air.
“Did you clean all this by yourself?” he asked, stunned.
Hans laughed. “Hired a cleaning service. Like you suggested.”
Adrik turned slowly, taking it all in. “Es sieht fantastisch aus.”
“Thanks. And I love you speaking German.” Hans moved toward the coffee table, picking up a small envelope. “I purchased our tickets to Munich. We leave Saturday morning.”
That was fast. And… nice. Really nice. “That’s great. I can pay for my ticket.”
Hans shook his head immediately. “No way. This is my treat.”
Adrik followed Hans into the living room, still feeling the ghost of Hans’ touch on his shoulders. Hans was the only thing Adrik could focus on.
Hans sat on the edge of the couch, watching him with that assessing look he always had when something was bothering him. Adrik could feel it before Hans even opened his mouth.
“So,” Hans said, folding his arms loosely. “You have a motorcycle.”
“Uh… yeah.”
Hans’ eyebrows lifted. “And you didn’t think to mention that?”
“It just… never came up.” Adrik rubbed his chin, suddenly aware of how stupid he sounded.
Hans let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Never came up? You ride it everywhere.”
Adrik shifted his weight, feeling oddly caught. “I just got the registration today.”
Hans gave him a look that said you absolutely were hiding something, even if he didn’t say it out loud.
“Amelia knew,” Hans added, voice tightening just a little.
Ah, there it was.
Adrik sat beside him, close enough their knees brushed. “I mentioned it to her the other day then saw her at the train station today. She was freezing. I offered her a brief ride back to her apartment. That’s all.”
“I bet you gave her your helmet.”
“I would not let her ride without one,” Adrik said gently. “And she held on because she had to. That’s it.”
Hans stared at the floor, shoulders tense. Adrik reached out and touched his arm, just a light press of fingers, but enough to make Hans look up.
Adrik hadn’t expected the conversation to turn this sharp, this fast. He could see the tension in Hans’ shoulders, the way his jaw tightened, and he hated he’d caused it, even unintentionally.
“It wasn’t anything.” Adrik meant it. He leaned in a little, hoping Hans would feel the truth in it. “I wanted to get back here. To you.”
But instead of relaxing, Hans stiffened. Though the shift was subtle, it struck Adrik with the force of a resounding slap.
“On your part maybe,” Hans said. “Amelia wants to date you.”
Adrik was even more stunned by the flicker of hurt behind Hans’ eyes. “I know,” Adrik admitted. “She asked me to go to a club with her.”
Hans’ head snapped up. The shock on his face was immediate and raw, and it made something twist in Adrik’s chest. “And what did you say?”
“That I’m all booked up.”
“She called me and told me all about the ride you gave her. She thinks she has a chance.”
“She has no chance.”
“You said you’re bi. Why not her?”
“Because I want you, Hans. Only you.”
Hans’ expression softened, but only a little. “I just… would’ve liked to know before Amelia. About the motorcycle.”
Adrik nodded. “You’re right. I should’ve told you.”
Hans exhaled, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Well… I bought a brand-new motorcycle.”
“You what?”
Hans shrugged, trying to look casual and failing miserably. “Online. Earlier today.”
Adrik stared at him, stunned. “You bought a motorcycle because I have one?”
Hans’ ears went a little pink. “No. I bought a motorcycle because I wanted one. And maybe because I… liked the idea of riding with you.”
Adrik leaned in, bumped shoulders with Hans, and then kissed him.
“You’re going to look hot on a bike,” Adrik murmured.
Hans huffed a laugh. “I have no idea how to ride.”
“I’ll teach you,” Adrik said without hesitation.
Hans looked at him then—really looked—and the last of the jealousy, the worry, the frustration melted into something softer.
“Okay,” Hans said. “I’d like that.”
Adrik couldn’t help it—he smiled.
Adrik sank onto the couch beside Hans, still taking in how spotless the place looked. The room was warm and bathed in soft lamplight, offering a strange comfort after his tough morning. Hans watched him with an attentive focus that made Adrik feel both exposed and steadied.
“I should tell you something,” Adrik said, rubbing his palms together once before resting them on his knees.
Hans straightened a little. “Okay.”
“I found out about the man who has been pounding on my door when I’m out,” Adrik said. “Russian. My mother hired him to find me.”
Hans’ eyes widened.
Adrik continued, voice low. “She’s in Russia now. She left my father. She… she said she did it for me.”
Hans let out a slow breath, like he wasn’t sure what part to react to first. “Are you alright?”
“I think so,” Adrik said, though he wasn’t entirely convinced. “It’s just… a lot.”
Hans nodded, his hand brushing lightly against Adrik’s knee—a small gesture, but grounding. “I’m glad she’s safe. And that she reached out.”
Adrik swallowed, feeling that familiar mix of relief and confusion twist in his chest. “Yeah. Me too.”
“So, your parents are Russian?”
Adrik nodded, not wanting to expand any more.
There was a silent moment, the kind that wasn’t uncomfortable but definitely charged. Hans shifted slightly, studying him.
“Adrik,” Hans said cautiously, like he already knew he was stepping onto thin ice. “Can I ask you something else?”
Adrik felt his shoulders tense before he could stop himself. He nodded anyway. “Yeah. Sure.”
Hans hesitated. Just a beat too long. Long enough for Adrik to feel the question gathering weight before it fell.
“Your tutor,” Hans said. “The one who taught you German… who was he?”
Adrik’s breath hitched. Of course. Of all the things he could have asked. His thoughts scattered, grasping for something usable. The truth felt too sharp. A lie wouldn’t come. Nothing did.
He looked away, his fingers pressing into his thigh as if he needed the grounding. “I—” He stopped. Tried again. Failed. The memories rose faster than the words, heavy and uncooperative.
Hans didn’t rush him. He watched, attentive but patient, giving space without retreating.
Adrik let out a slow, uneven breath. “I don’t really know how to explain him.”
Hans stayed where he was. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t fill the silence. “Your father hired him, right?” he finally asked gently. “To tutor you?”
“Yeah,” Adrik said, nodding once. “He’s been with us since I was ten. He started teaching me Russian. Later…” He swallowed. “Later, I hired him myself to teach me German.”
Just thinking about the tutor made his chest feel tight, like the room had lost a little air.
Hans glanced at him, then asked straight out. “Were you in love with him?”
Adrik shook his head slowly, uncertain. “I don’t know if I’d call it in love.” He paused, searching for something more honest. “I love him like family. Or… something close to that.” He hesitated, then added, “Maybe more.”
The words hung there between them, heavy but finally spoken.
“You met my ex. I want nothing to do with him.”
“My tutor is not my ex. I don’t have any exes. You’re my first relationship.”
“Really? No girlfriends.”
“No. No relationships. My father wanted to order me a mail-order bride.”
“He didn’t?”
Adrik laughed. “He said I was too fussy.”
“I bet you are.” He stood. “Sorry. Need to lock the front door.”