Help! I Became A Guy In A BL Novel!-Chapter 327: Behind The Curtains

The long hallway leading to their bedroom was quiet, the sound of their footsteps muffled against the thick rugs. Riven walked beside Soren, unusually aware of the silence stretching between them. It wasn’t an uncomfortable one, just dense, as if filled with things unspoken.

When they reached the door to their shared bedroom, Soren paused with his hand on the knob.

"I’ll take Leon to his room," he said, his tone measured. "I need to speak to him."

Riven opened his mouth, the instinct to argue flickering in his chest, not out of distrust, but wariness. He didn’t want things to explode between them. Still, he nodded, choosing not to push. "Alright... Say whatever you need to. Just... Don’t kill each other."

Soren’s lips twitched, amused. "You think he can land even one blow on me?"

That response didn’t exactly reassure him, but Riven let it go. He watched as Soren turned to leave, but something else tugged at his attention, the faint rustle of fabric. His eyes flicked toward the far end of the room, where thick velvet curtains hung along the wall. That wasn’t there before.

"What’s that thing behind the curtain?" Riven asked, tilting his head. "It wasn’t there before..."

Soren paused, just briefly, before turning to glance at the wall. Then a smile curled across his lips. It wasn’t his usual smirk, it was something softer, slightly mischievous.

"You told me to have something ready for when you got back," he said. "That... is what I prepared."

With that cryptic statement, he turned and walked away, leaving Riven staring after him.

Riven blinked. "What does that mean...?" he murmured, half to himself. His tail flicked with curiosity. But then he remembered the last time he peeked at something Soren told him not to, and how sore he’d been for three days after. No thanks.

Still, a small part of him itched to pull those curtains open.

But he forced himself to sit down instead, legs bouncing with restrained curiosity.

Meanwhile, Soren’s steps echoed slightly louder as he made his way down the hall. He wasn’t stomping. But they weren’t quiet either.

Leon.

The name itself brought a sour taste to his tongue. It wasn’t just the arrogance, though Leon had plenty of that. It was the way he looked at Riven. Like he still had some kind of hold on him.

He didn’t.

Soren wasn’t normally a jealous man. No, he was a very jealous man. He knew Riven, trusted him, but that didn’t mean he liked the idea of another man, a former king no less, lingering too close. Especially not one who once shared a bond with Riven, even if that bond had been fractured.

And now Leon was in their home.

He reached the guest hallway, the one farthest from the master bedroom. The air here was cooler. Detached. Perfect.

Soren didn’t knock. He opened the door and stepped inside.

Leon was seated on the edge of the bed, long legs crossed, a robe draped loosely over his shoulders. He looked perfectly comfortable — too comfortable.

Leon raised a brow. "How gracious of the master of the house to visit."

Soren shut the door behind him, slowly.

"You’re our guest now," he said. "Riven wants you to stay, so you will. But let’s be clear about something."

Leon tilted his head, smirking. "I’m listening."

Soren took a step forward, his eyes like ice. "You look at him like that again- with that same heat you used to, and I will carve your eyes out and serve them on your silver plate."

Leon’s smirk faltered.

"I don’t care what past you two had. I don’t care how complicated it was. Riven chose me. He’s with me. In this house, our house, I expect you to respect that."

Leon’s expression shifted, just a flicker. The smile didn’t reach his eyes now, and for a moment, he looked as if he would turn away, let it go, let the line end here.

"I didn’t come here to steal him back," he said quietly. "But now, I want to."

Soren’s hand twitched at his side.

Leon lifted his gaze and finished, "But now... I want to."

Soren’s reaction was immediate and precise. He stepped forward and grabbed Leon by the collar, pulling him close with a force that left no doubt of his strength.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence, the tension crackling like static between them.

And then—Soren let go.

His grip loosened and fell away. He smirked.

Not a nice smirk. It was sharp and cold and full of teeth.

He took a deep breath, slowly, like a man dragging down the urge to act out his worst instincts.

"You’ll be staying in a new room," he said flatly. His tone made it sound more like a sentence than a gesture of hospitality.

Leon scoffed and straightened his clothes, brushing off the nonexistent dust from where Soren had grabbed him.

As Soren turned and began walking down the hall, Leon followed without hesitation. But of course, Leon had never been one to stay quiet when silence could be twisted into a knife.

"So, did he tell you how we met?" Leon asked conversationally, his voice echoing in the hall.

Soren didn’t answer. His steps were steady, each one sharp against the stone flooring. His silence was not ignorance—it was restraint.

"I’m sure he didn’t," Leon said, chuckling low. "It wasn’t love at first sight. He hated me. I liked that about him. No one ever hated me like that before. They were always too scared or too charmed. But Riven... He was different."

He conveniently left out the kidnapping part. It was nothing! Really, just a small blip in their relationship.

Still no answer. Soren didn’t even glance back.

"Eventually, he didn’t hate me anymore. Eventually, he asked me to stay."

Soren’s jaw tightened ever so slightly.

"I wonder," Leon continued, "how many times he’s asked you to stay? Or were you always just... Already there?"

He turned his head slightly. "If you’re trying to provoke me," Soren said, his voice as calm and lethal as the press of a blade, "you’re wasting your breath."

Leon arched a brow. "Am I?"

"Maybe not. But you’re afraid of something, aren’t you?" he asked softly.

Soren’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes. A muscle in his jaw clenched.

Leon stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You’re afraid because for a moment, it didn’t sound like he was just letting me stay here, it felt like he chose me."

Soren stopped walking. The hallway stretched out before them like a dark vein through the house. The door to the guest room, the "new room", was only a few paces ahead.

Soren continued walking again. His fingers curled around the iron handle of the guest room door. With a sharp motion, he opened it wide and stepped aside. "This will be your new bedroom."

It was... Right next to the master bedroom.

---

Back in the bedroom, Riven was still sitting, bouncing his knees, tail flicking in frustration.

The curtain stared at him.

Taunted him.

"What the hell did you prepare...?" he muttered, trying to resist the urge. Maybe it was a painting? A tapestry? A huge picture of himself?

But that was ridiculous.

Soren wouldn’t do something cheesy like—

His ears perked up as he heard the soft sound of footsteps returning. He immediately straightened, pretending he hadn’t just been debating with a curtain for ten minutes.

Soren stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. His expression was unreadable, but not angry. That was a relief.

Soren watched Riven with a small smile, the kind that warmed slowly into his chest. The little wolf’s tail wagged with curiosity, his ears perked up, his amber eyes gleaming in the dim light of their bedroom.

"So what is it?" Riven asked again, nearly bouncing on his feet. "What’s behind the curtains?"

Soren didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took Riven’s hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles. "You told me to have something ready for when you got back," he said, voice low and soft. "I did."

"You already said that..." Riven said softly. Riven tilted his head, curious but caught off guard by the tenderness in Soren’s voice. He let Soren lead him, step by step, until they stood before the long wall, covered fully in floor-length velvet curtains. The room was quiet, the air heavy with something unspoken.

Riven’s heart raced as the curtain swept aside, revealing a vast mirror that reflected not just their bodies, but the electric tension crackling in the air. The room seemed to pulse with the unspoken desires between them, amplifying every breath.

"Wow," Riven breathed, his voice barely above a whisper as he took in the sight of himself and Soren, side by side, the mirror reflecting their image.

Soren quickly stepped behind him as Riven took in the view in front of him. He could feel Soren’s warmth, his breath tickling the nape of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. "Do you like what you see?" Soren murmured, his voice low and sultry.