Dave stood there, staring at the door Heinz had just walked through. The echo of his footsteps faded down the corridor, into the stillness of the room and into Dave's own mind, like the final notes of a song he wished he'd never heard. The tension between them—that blend of attraction and suspicion—was like a poison lingering beneath his skin, leaving its mark behind.
With Heinz, Dave had felt something fragile and intense, a quiet threat that disarmed him even as it pulled him closer. And yet, no matter how much that unsettled him, he couldn't stay here, trapped in a reality that wasn't his. His real home was somewhere else—another dimension entirely—where Axel knew him in ways far more complex and intimate than anything this world could ever hope to offer. Axel loved him with a kind of madness that was terrifying and beautiful all at once.
But that clarity brought no peace. Instead, it stirred something restless in his chest. The way Heinz had looked at him, with that resigned sadness cutting straight through his defenses, had left a mark Dave would rather ignore.
"Shit."
With a heavy sigh, Dave pushed himself to move. Maybe, for both their sakes, they needed one last conversation, one final confrontation to untangle whatever mess had started between them—before it twisted into something uglier, something neither of them could undo. He stepped into the hallway, the darkness pressing in around him, the walls narrowing with every step.
He found Heinz leaning against a window, watching the rain fall. His slender frame was outlined by the dim glow of the streetlights, as if he belonged to the shadows themselves, his thoughts drifting somewhere unreachable. The faint light traced the sharp angles of his profile, and Dave couldn't help but notice the fragility beneath that calm exterior, a vulnerability that somehow made him seem more human than anyone else in this fractured world.
"What are you looking at?" Dave muttered, attempting sarcasm, though the sharpness didn't quite land.
Heinz turned slowly, his eyes lacking the usual spark of defiance. Instead, he regarded Dave with resignation—and something else. A silent question, maybe. As if searching for an answer written on his face.
"Sometimes I wonder if everything you do is just running," Heinz said, cutting through the space between them with brutal honesty. "Running from everything you don't want to face."
The words hit like a slap, catching Dave off guard. He glanced away, trying to summon his usual indifference, but he could feel it—those words had struck something raw, something he hadn't even dared admit to himself.
"Oh, and you're an expert on facing fears, huh?" he shot back, sharp but uncertain. "What makes you think you know anything about me?"
Heinz only shrugged, like he didn't need to explain himself. He stepped closer, eyes steady, holding that unsettling empathy that made Dave want to flinch.
"I don't know everything about you… but I know what I see. You act like you're in control, like nothing matters. And yet here you are, clinging to an idea of 'home' that might not even exist the way you remember it. Tell me, Dave… how many times have you really questioned whether you even want to go back?"
Dave opened his mouth, ready to fire back, to reject it, to deny—but the truth was already there, gnawing at the edges of his certainty. Of course he wanted to go home. Of course Axel was everything, the one thing he'd ever truly trusted, ever truly loved.
But… what if Heinz was right?
What if that home wasn't what he remembered? What if all he was holding onto was a fragile dream stitched together from fragments of a past he could barely trust?
"You don't know anything," he said at last, but his voice lacked the weight, the conviction he needed it to have. "This place, this dimension—it's nothing to me. And Axel…"
He trailed off. The words hovered there, unfinished, trembling between certainty and doubt.
"Axel what?" Heinz pressed gently, like he already knew how hard it was for Dave to say it.
"He's the reason for everything. He's why I have to go back. Nothing here is going to change that. Not even you."
Heinz closed his eyes as if every word was another cut, another wound opening up. But when he looked at Dave again, his gaze was steady—almost tragically calm, filled with something that looked like quiet surrender.
"I know. But I'm not giving up on you, Dave. You can pretend you're running from me, from this—" his voice faltered, just for a second "—but you know there's something here you can't ignore. You can lie to Axel, you can lie to me… but you can't lie to yourself."
The silence that followed was unbearable, thick and pressing, stretching between them like a thread about to snap. And yet, something in Heinz's eyes held him there, something that wouldn't let him walk away—not yet. Somewhere deep inside, tangled and hidden, was the terrifying possibility that maybe—just maybe—he'd started to want something from this world after all.
Without warning, Heinz took a step forward, closing the space between them. His gaze burned, sharp and vulnerable all at once, making Dave feel exposed in ways he hated. And then—before he could move, before he could speak—Heinz's hands were on his face, cool fingers framing his jaw with a gentleness that broke something loose inside him.
"Dave… I don't want to be another ghost haunting your path. I don't want to be just another obstacle in your way." His voice was soft, achingly sincere, and it hit Dave like a punch to the throat. "Give me a reason to let you go. Because if you don't—I'll keep you here… for eternity."
The words hovered between them, and Dave had no idea how to respond. Because beneath all the conflict, beneath every argument, there was a spark of something neither of them dared to name. Something that went beyond loyalty, beyond dimensions, beyond logic itself.
He tried to pull away. Tried to say something sharp, anything that could break the spell.
But the words betrayed him.
And then—without thinking, without planning, driven only by the chaotic storm inside him—he leaned in, closing the gap, crushing their tension into something fierce and undeniable.
The kiss was wild and tender all at once, tasting of defiance and surrender, of doubts and hunger. They clung to each other as if drowning, as if this moment was the only thing keeping them both alive. And for one perfect second, the world outside didn't exist. His dimension didn't matter. Axel didn't matter. All that mattered was this—them—this fragile, beautiful ruin they'd built together.
But when they broke apart, reality came rushing back.
Heinz looked at him, eyes dark with longing and sorrow, and Dave knew: no matter how perfect this felt, it wouldn't change anything.
Not yet.