Dave doesn't hold back anymore. He kisses Heinz.
His heart is beating so violently he can almost hear it in his ears. It's like his own body is trying to warn him of something—but he refuses to listen.
Heinz keeps staring at him with that same intensity that draws him in and terrifies him at the same time. Dave feels like this connection between them could be just as real as it is dangerous.
They break apart, but the tension lingers, suspended in the air, like a single wrong move could shatter the moment. Dave fights the urge to close his eyes and give in, to ignore the fear pulsing in his chest. But there's something in Heinz's gaze that stops him. No matter how many promises he makes, Dave knows he's still hiding something.
"Is this a dream or a nightmare?" Dave asks with a dry, sarcastic smile, trying to lighten the discomfort. "Because honestly, with you, I'm never sure."
Heinz smirks, that crooked smile making him look both dangerous and irresistible at once.
"That depends on you, Dave," he replies calmly, but there's a sharpness to every word. "In the end, we both chose to be here. Despite everything."
Dave crosses his arms, struggling to maintain a steady, controlled expression—to keep anyone from seeing the storm raging inside him. Because underneath the want, there's something stronger: doubt. And the look in Heinz's eyes only feeds it.
"Let me guess…" Dave arches a brow, stepping closer. "That 'everything' includes the things you'd rather not tell me, right?"
For a split second, Heinz falters. It's barely a flicker, but Dave catches it. That fraction of a second where he almost looks human—almost vulnerable. But it's gone just as fast, his face hardening again, his voice perfectly measured, like he knows exactly how to keep Dave tangled in uncertainty.
"Nothing's what it seems in this world," Heinz says, with unnerving confidence. "Not even you are who you think you are. But tell me… do you really want answers?"
Dave studies him in silence, weighing every word. Part of him wants to trust, to believe they could search for those answers together. But another part—the sharper, colder part—reminds him that trusting someone like Heinz might be the biggest mistake of his life.
"I don't know, Heinz," he finally admits, holding his gaze. "I don't know if trusting you is the worst mistake I've made… or the only thing that could save me."
Heinz steps forward, close enough for Dave to feel his breath. For a moment, that mask of cold confidence seems to slip, and Dave wants to believe what he sees is real.
"If we're going to risk this together, Dave… don't go searching for answers you don't want to find," Heinz murmurs, his voice almost pleading. "Sometimes, understanding means losing something even more valuable."
The words fall like a warning, echoing inside Dave's mind. Every part of him wants to drown in this moment and forget the consequences—but that stubborn thread of doubt keeps reminding him that nothing in this world lasts forever.
"What you're really saying is I should just trust you blindly, right?" Dave scoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Without knowing what the hell you're hiding."
Heinz says nothing, just looks at him with a mix of resignation and something that almost looks like pain.
"Maybe it's better if you don't fully trust me," Heinz says softly, unexpectedly honest. "Maybe that's the only thing that'll protect both of us from what's coming."
Dave doesn't answer right away. His gut is screaming that walking away now would be the smartest thing he could do. But the weight of everything between them—the shadows, the unspoken words, the way Heinz's eyes are suddenly filled with something raw—won't let him move.
"I don't know what the hell you're doing, Heinz," Dave mutters, already half-accepting the disaster he feels creeping closer. "But screw it. Let's see what happens."
Silence stretches between them. A fragile truce neither one dares to break, because they both know this is about more than some reckless kiss or sharp words. What they've just admitted—what they're not admitting—goes deeper than either of them wants to admit.
Heinz exhales and steps back. His gaze drops to the floor like the space he's put between them might be enough to contain everything that's threatening to spill out. Dave feels the ache of that absence instantly, and for a moment, he almost wants to ask him to stay.
"I don't want to lose you," Heinz whispers, barely audible, like he's saying it more to himself than to Dave.
Dave watches him in silence, feeling the weight of every unspoken word pressing down on them both. Despite the shadows, the danger, the sharp edges of doubt—this moment feels more real than anything else.
"You better keep that promise," Dave says coldly. "Because if you don't… I can be your worst nightmare too."
The silence between them turns into an abyss, thick with everything neither of them dares to say. Dave lifts his hand toward Heinz, only to slowly pull it back, like crossing that invisible line might send him spiraling beyond control. Heinz catches the threat in his words, but instead of retreating, his gaze darkens, like he's trying to solve a puzzle even he doesn't fully understand.
"That's it? A warning?" Heinz asks with forced nonchalance, though Dave can hear the challenge beneath it. "I thought you were the kind of guy who always saw things through."
Dave's smile doesn't reach his eyes.
"I am," his voice is soft, but each word cuts the air like a blade. "But tell me something—what made you think I'd trust anyone without getting something in return?"
Heinz doesn't flinch. There's something deeper behind his eyes, something Dave can't quite read. And then, out of nowhere, Heinz lets out a laugh, sharp and unexpected, like the absurdity of the whole situation finally caught up to him.
"Is that what you want? Something in return?" Heinz shakes his head with quiet amusement. "In this world, Dave, love and loyalty cost more than you can imagine. If you're really willing to pay the price… be my guest."
Dave clenches his fists. Heinz's words twist around his thoughts like barbed wire, tangling with everything he's already been struggling to untangle. And in the middle of his frustration, there's that pull—that dangerous, maddening attraction.
"I don't even know if I want to hear you right now," Dave mutters, narrowing his eyes. "I just know you have a real talent for making everything worse."
Heinz's grin sharpens with something like triumph. He steps closer, closing the space between them until there's barely a breath left. The heat between them is volatile, like one wrong move could set the whole world on fire.
"Does this feel complicated to you, Dave?" Heinz's voice is low, intense. "Let me remind you… you're not the only one pretending not to know how you really feel."
The confession blindsides him. For a second, the sarcasm and sharp edges fall away, revealing something raw. Something true. It's like the wall between them finally cracked.
Dave wants to push him away, to throw up that wall again, to keep himself from falling. But instead, his next words come out more honest than anything he's said so far.
"You make me question everything, Heinz. Every word, every move. And I don't know if I should hate you for that… or thank you."
Heinz smiles, but it's bitter. Before Dave can react, Heinz lifts a hand and presses it gently against his chest, right over his heart. The touch is barely there, but it's enough to send a current rushing through Dave's entire body. Like Heinz could break through every defense he tries to build.
"Then stop thinking," Heinz whispers, eyes locked on his. "Stop thinking, and just feel. Forget the worlds, the betrayals, the doubts. Just for a moment."
Dave searches his face for something—some sign that he should step away before it's too late. But everything inside him is screaming that if he crosses this line, there's no going back. The thread between them feels paper-thin now, ready to snap.
"If this is a trap…" Dave murmurs, warning lacing his words—but there's something else there too. Something betraying how much he wants this, how much he's already fallen.
Heinz holds his gaze steady. And in that moment, there's something new in his eyes—something honest, something Dave's never seen before.
"Then I guess you'll just have to take that risk," Heinz says softly. "Because we both know you're already in too deep to turn back now."
That's the breaking point. Dave steps forward, grabs Heinz by the back of the neck, and kisses him. It's desperate, intense, filled with everything they've been trying to hold back. Heinz responds just as fiercely, his hands gripping Dave's shoulders like this moment is the only thing that belongs to them.
When they break apart, only by inches, the electricity between them is still there—thick, volatile, alive. Dave stares at him, his heart pounding in his chest, while Heinz stands before him, open, fragile, like every barrier has finally crumbled.
"I still don't know if this is real," Dave murmurs, struggling to tell if what just happened is the truth he's been chasing or just another illusion.
Heinz meets his gaze with quiet intensity. And for a second, Dave catches a flicker of sorrow deep in his eyes.
"What you feel is real," Heinz says gently, softer than Dave's ever heard him speak. "What we are… that's up to us."
The silence between them is both a promise and a threat. Because they both know—whatever happens next—they've already crossed a line neither of them can undo.