Playing The Victims [BL]

Chapter One Hundred | Third World

"That sounded like an awfully diplomatic way of saying that you couldn't imagine life without me."

Hansel quirked his lips, finding the man's eyes once again as they looked right at him. "Is that what you want to hear?"

"Right now," Niklas began and quickly felt the impending pressure of his following words. What was said couldn't be taken back. He fought the anxieties; ones which screamed at him not to leave himself vulnerable. "More than anything," he confessed.

Hansel didn't say anything. Truthfully, he was a little lost in his own thoughts following the echo of the mans words. He found himself reliving the first confessions, from his previous lovers. He couldn't surmise why the three men were so different, and yet so alike.

Out of everyone that could have followed him through the variety of worlds, it was only yellow-eyes who was a constant. But he seemed to be getting closer and closer, gradually becoming deadlier. But just a look in his lover's eyes, made Fahren feel like he always had someone to stand by his side.

"Only if you do something for me, first."

Niklas tensed and suddenly looked uncomfortable. A flash of a memory, one which contained Josef bargaining with their false relationship, made the currently weak Niklas feel very exposed. But he swiftly scolded himself. He himself had stated on numerous occasions, the differences between the two.

"What is it? Baring in mind I'm a little restricted at the moment."

"It's to do with your recovery, but I doubt you're going to be happy about what I want you to do."

The Commander had an innate ability to read people. It was nothing grand, but something he had learnt over time, from being surrounded by a plethora of different people. When it came to Hansel, the man was an anomaly. Sometimes he'd wear his heart on his sleeve and be bold with his emotions, such as frustration. Then there were times when he looked slightly absent, as if wearing a mask and psychologically weighing everything up.

Niklas had a hunch about what he was going to say. Other people, such as Roscoe, would always skirt around the topic and look guilty even before bringing up the mention of the nuclei. As for Hansel, it was as if he knew that he should be looking apprehensive, but in actuality, wanted to pry his jaw open and pop it down his throat.

Niklas put that down to perhaps the man caring more, so therefore being less patient. So to test the young man, purely for his own amusement, he shook his head. "I don't want it; I'll recover in no time." He protested and turned his head to the side.

Only the tips of his fingers were gradually coming into use, spreading the uncomfortable sensation of pins and needles up his arms. But at the rate his body was recovering, he'd be going nowhere soon. And Hansel was well aware of that, but he had already called Niklas stubborn, so the Commander was happily playing on that.

"Even if it means that you will never get my response to your confession?" Hansel wondered, feigning surprise and amusing Niklas further. The burning impatience was clear to see.

"That's not fair. Putting one of those things in your own mouth, after vividly recalling the agonising pain you went through when under Andrei's thumb, it's not so much a hurdle as it is a mountain to climb." Niklas was honest about his thoughts, but his resolve had already long since dwindled when confronted with Hansel.

"Does it hurt?"

"When you have one of the crystals now? No, the opposite. You get this sickening rush of strength which you know you could get addicted to."

"You think I'd let you get addicted to some rock?"

Niklas rolled his eyes and didn't hesitate, "I think you'd make me regret it, if I did."