[BL]Hunted by the God of Destruction Chapter 160: I still love him

Victor’s grin didn’t fade. If anything it deepened, the faint tremor of satisfaction in his chest becoming sothing more physical; he shifted closer until Elias’s back almost touched the wall again. One arm stayed at the back of his neck, the other sliding along his side as if anchoring him in place.

"You have no idea how rare that was," he said, crimson eyes bright with a hunger that wasn’t entirely predatory. "I’ve never let anyone touch that and stay standing. I’ve never even felt soone reach for it."

Elias let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "Lucky ," he muttered, although his pulse still skipped under Victor’s thumb. "Do I get a dal, or just more of your dramatic speeches?"

Victor ignored the jab and dipped his head until their foreheads brushed, his voice a low rumble between them. "dal? No, training, my dear."

Elias blinked. "Training?"

"I want to see what you can really do with that touch," Victor murmured, his breath warm enough to make Elias’s glasses fog. "How far you can reach, how much you can pull before it starts pulling back. You saw threads that even I don’t always see. That’s... new."

"You’re unbelievable," Elias said, but it ca out half-breathless, half-amused. "Most people would buy dinner before turning into their science project."

Victor’s smile slid wider, low and smug. "You’re not ’most people,’" he said, fingers still threading through Elias’s hair, thumb pressing a slow circle at the base of his skull. "And you like science projects."

Elias let out a long, uneven breath. "Fair enough," he muttered. "But give so ti to process this... before you drag back into your ribcage."

Victor chuckled, the sound vibrating against Elias’s chest. "Processing ti granted," he murmured, though the glint in his eyes said otherwise. He shifted a fraction closer until Elias’s back brushed the wall again, his palm still heavy at the nape of his neck. "But don’t mistake breathing space for escape. What did you do just now? No one has ever done it. Not even ."

Elias tilted his head back, bumping it lightly against the plaster. "That’s because most people know better."

"Or they’re weaker," Victor said, a flash of teeth in his smile. "You reached into a storm that devours gods and ca back standing. I’m not letting that go."

Elias tried to laugh, but it snagged on the edge of a groan. "So what, I’m your new lab rat?"

Victor bent his forehead to his, voice dropping to a low, satisfied rasp. "No. My partner. My mate. And we’re going to find out what you can really do with that touch."

Elias dragged in another shaky breath, his glasses fogging slightly between them. "Great," he muttered. "I survive one god-touch and you imdiately enroll in advanced training."

Victor’s grin widened, his thumb drawing another slow circle against his skin. "Exactly," he said, and brushed a warm, unhurried kiss across Elias’s mouth. "Lesson one: breathe. In my arms. Now."

—

Steam curled up from the bath, softening the sharp edges of the marble until the room felt half-drowned in mist. Elias sank lower into the water until it lapped at his collarbones, the heat trying and failing to untie the tremor still sitting in his muscles. He’d slipped away as soon as Connor’s call ca through, so ergency at Nun Corp, sothing to do with contracts or acquisitions. He hadn’t even listened to the details. The mont Victor turned on his heel, Elias had walked in the opposite direction and kept walking until he found a door he could shut.

Now there was no Victor, no glint of crimson eyes, and no thumb at the back of his neck. Just water, soap, and the sound of his own heartbeat hamring like it hadn’t realized the danger was over.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, dragging wet hair back from his forehead. The images rose anyway: the cathedral of red filants, the weight of an ocean sliding over him, and the god looking back at him from behind a human face. Threads of lives he couldn’t na or count, thrumming under his palm like veins of molten light.

Reckless. Stupid. Brave. He couldn’t decide which. When he’d reached out, he hadn’t thought about consequences and hadn’t even known if Victor would let him go again. It had felt less like an experint and more like stepping off a ledge to see if he could fly.

"Reckless or suicidal?" he muttered to the ceiling. His voice echoed off the tiles, soft and damp. "Does it even matter?"

He drew his knees up under the water, resting his forehead on them for a mont. The scent of his own iris still clung faintly to his skin despite the soap, a ghost of what had filled the room when he’d pushed into Victor’s core. It made his stomach twist with a strange, unsteady longing he didn’t want to examine.

He tipped his head back against the cool edge of the tub, watching a bead of water run down the tile until it disappeared into the steam. "I miss when my biggest problem was work deadlines and bad takeout," he said quietly. "Or arguing with Ruo over whose turn it was to buy groceries. At least then I knew what the rules were."

Another breath, another ghost of a smile. "Who the fuck am I lying to?" The words ca out rougher than he ant, swallowed almost imdiately by the hiss of the pipes. "I’d crawl out of that life in a second if it ant ending up right here."

He closed his eyes, fingers drifting over the surface of the water. The images rose anyway: crimson threads, a storm behind a human face, and Victor’s thumb pressing circles at the base of his skull. Victor is calling it training. Victor calling him mate.

"I love him," he admitted to the ceiling, voice low. "God, monster, whatever he is. And I’m not giving him up." His laugh was shaky, steam curling around it. "I’m sitting in a bathtub trying to decide if I just touched a god or signed up for my own execution," he whispered, "and I still want him."