Help! I Became A Guy In A BL Novel!
Chapter 201: Lover?!

Chapter 201: Lover?!

Leon groaned internally. "This is barbaric," he muttered between bites.

Riven grunted something unintelligible in response, still chewing.

By the time the last minute rolled around, Leon had tapped out—leaning back in his seat, a quarter of the sandwich still untouched. He stared at it like it had personally betrayed him. He was absolutely sick of sandwiches at this point.

Riven, on the other hand, powered through, jaw working furiously. The final bite disappeared just as the countdown ticked down to five seconds. A little victory jingle played from the bakery sign.

"How can you eat that much?" Leon asked in worry rather than disgust.

"I’m a growing wolf, I need the nutrients!" Riven managed, pushing the sandwich piece to the side of his mouth.

This was enough for Leon’s expression to change from worry to disgust immediately. A growing wolf? Does this man really think he is going through puberty?! He is twenty-two years old!

The crowd clapped and cheered. Riven raised his arms like a champion, completely ignoring the juices from the tomatoes on his hands. "Victory is mine!"

Leon gave him a long, unimpressed look.

"You’re a vacuum," he said flatly.

"I’m an efficient eater," Riven corrected, beaming with pride and looking ever so slightly green in the face.

"You inhaled that sandwich. There’s no way you even tasted it."

"Victory has no flavour but glory."

Leon scoffed, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips despite himself. "You’re disgusting."

"And you," Riven pointed a finger at him lazily, "are dessert-buying royalty."

"How do you still have space?" Leon shook his head in defeat.

"I have a different stomach for desserts, that one has lots of space."

Leon let out a short laugh but winced as he leaned back in his chair, clutching his stomach. "That was stupid. You’re going to pass out."

"I just might," Riven sighed dramatically, slumping sideways with a groan. "Carry me."

Leon blinked. "No."

"I gave everything for that sandwich, Leon. Everything. The world’s a blur. I can’t move. Carry me."

"I am not carrying you through the market like a baby."

Riven reached out, grabbing Leon’s sleeve with dramatic flair. "Come on! You have to carry me!"

Leon groaned. "You’re heavy." He tried lifting Riven, but he didn’t really put much effort into it.

Riven was ready to fight for himself, "Hey! Half of that is the sandwich, okay?"

With an exaggerated sigh, he bent down, let Riven drape his arms over his shoulders, and hoisted him up into a piggyback. The bakery crowd, still lingering, gave a few laughs and scattered applause.

"Where are we going now?" Leon grunted, still feeling the weight of Riven on his back even after setting him down outside the bakery.

Riven lazily pointed toward a row of trees lining the outer edge of the market square. "There’s a park nearby. Take me there, horsey."

Leon groaned. "Stop calling me that."

"You carried me, so it’s been decided." Riven insisted.

"You call me that one more time and I will throw you," Leon warned.

At least that successfully shut Riven up.

He wasn’t sure why he was even listening to Riven without putting up a fight. Maybe he’d just accepted that resistance was futile. Or maybe—just maybe—he didn’t mind the company as much as he pretended.

They reached the park not long after, a surprisingly quiet stretch of carefully tended greenery. Ornamental trees stood like silent guardians over winding stone paths, and small golden lanterns floated above flower beds, glowing softly even in daylight. The grass, a rich vibrant green, stretched out like a velvet carpet. But Leon didn’t care for its softness.

He dropped Riven unceremoniously onto the ground.

"OW!" Riven shouted, slapping the grass as he twisted around and began rubbing his backside. "What the hell, Leon?! That was cold. And hard. And rude!"

Leon cracked his neck and stretched his arms with a yawn. "You’re lucky I didn’t launch you headfirst into the bushes."

Riven shot him a glare but said nothing, still brushing imaginary dirt from his coat.

Leon stood for a moment, hands on his hips, eyes on the pale blue sky, before speaking again.

"So..." he began slowly, "how long are you going to keep me on the hook?"

Riven blinked up at him, confused for a second before realisation dawned. "Oh. That."

Leon looked down, expression flat but serious. "Yeah. That. This whole thing—this punishment-slash-servitude deal. How long are you going to drag it out?"

Riven looked away, humming thoughtfully as he plucked a blade of grass and toyed with it between his fingers. "A week."

Leon narrowed his eyes. "A week?"

"That’s what I said."

"And after that?"

Riven shrugged. "I’ll go home."

Leon sat down beside him with a sigh. "Home, where exactly? The matters in the wolf clan hadn’t been fully settled. There are remnants of the rebellion that your dear mate has been dealing with."

"It does not matter. Back to Ronan because it’s his week." Riven replied matter-of-factly.

That name sent a pulse of irritation through Leon. "Still can’t believe he dumped you in a stranger’s home for protection. And what do you mean by it’s his week?"

"He didn’t dump me," Riven snapped lightly, flicking the blade of grass at Leon. "He placed me somewhere safe while he dealt with the mess up north-" before Riven could address the his week comment, Leon quickly interrupted.

"With a stranger," Leon emphasised, brow raised. "I mean, Sorens is... Eccentric, to say the least. Not exactly the babysitting type."

"He’s not a stranger," Riven said casually, not looking at him. "He’s my lover."

Leon froze. "What?!"

Riven tilted his head, amused by the outburst. "What? You thought I just crashed at his mansion for fun? Nuh uh, he is my favourite lover!"

Leon’s mind was blown. He did not understand what he was hearing, maybe it’s a different language, or maybe it was slang for something. But he could not believe that Riven, Ronan’s mate, the Alpha of the wolf clan’s mate had another lover and it was none other than Soren. The leader of the Snow Leopard clan!