[BL]Hunted by the God of Destruction Chapter 178: Adjusting

Elias finished the last mouthful with a satisfied little hum, setting the empty cup on the nightstand. "Perfect," he said, wiping at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. "Cheap ran, warm bed. Peak luxury."

Victor reached over without a word, took the empty cup from the nightstand and set it aside as if it had offended him. "Done?" he asked.

"Done," Elias confird, leaning back against the pillows.

Victor didn’t reach for another bowl or make a joke this ti. Instead he shifted, his long fra folding down until he’d stretched across the mattress and lowered his head into Elias’s lap like a cat claiming territory. His hair brushed the inside of Elias’s wrist; the warmth of him was heavy through the blanket.

"Seriously?" Elias looked down at the crown of dark hair in his lap. "You’re sulking now?"

Victor’s voice ca out muffled, velvet, and shaless against Elias’s thighs. "You ate it all. Not even a sip of broth left for ."

"You’re the one who said you didn’t want any," Elias pointed out, but his fingers were already drifting automatically through Victor’s hair, brushing it back from his temple. "This is the apocalypse’s version of pouting?"

Victor made a low, content noise that could have been agreent. "Maybe," he said. "But if I do it here..." His eyes slanted up, glinting. "...you always pet ."

Elias rolled his eyes, but his thumb kept moving in slow, absent circles against Victor’s scalp. "Well, I do like you, and I forgive your possessive tendencies."

Victor’s eyes half-closed at the touch, lashes dark against his cheek. "Forgive?" he echoed, voice low and amused. "You make it sound like a sin."

"It is," Elias said dryly, but the corners of his mouth softened as his thumb traced another lazy circle over Victor’s temple. "You drag out of bed at six, steal my food, stick in boardrooms, and sohow still end up using my lap as a pillow. Definitely a sin."

Victor’s smile curved against his leg, slow and unbothered. "I’m the god here, Elias," he murmured, his voice a warm drag of velvet against his thigh. "This isn’t a sin in my books."

Elias snorted, fingers still idly combing through his hair. "Convenient. Rewrite the rules whenever it suits you."

"Perk of the job," Victor said without opening his eyes. "You should try it soti."

"I do," Elias replied, thumb sweeping another absent circle over his temple. "Usually when it involves snacks."

Victor’s shoulders shifted in a quiet laugh, the sound low enough to vibrate against Elias’s lap. "And here you are, petting the apocalypse after cheap ran."

"Peak luxury," Elias muttered, but the warmth in his voice betrayed him. He tipped his head back against the headboard, eyes half-lidded, still tracing slow circles through Victor’s hair. "Don’t get used to it."

Victor cracked one crimson eye open, a flash of teeth curving at the corner of his mouth. "Too late," he said softly. "I already have."

Elias’s fingers slowed in Victor’s hair without him aning to. The warmth rolling through his body wasn’t just the soup or the blankets; it was heavier, sweeter, a tide under his skin. He shifted back against the headboard, exhaling through his nose as if that could push the heat away.

Victor’s eyes slid open at the change in rhythm. "What is it?" he asked quietly.

Elias let out a low sound, sowhere between a laugh and a groan. "Nothing. Everything." His hand stayed tangled in Victor’s hair, thumb tracing distracted patterns. "I just... I’ve never felt it like this before."

Victor tilted his head a fraction, studying him. "Heat?"

Elias nodded, eyes half-lidded. "Usually it’s nothing. A day, maybe two a year. Mild. Manageable. Being recessive has its perks." He drew another slow breath, but it didn’t quite steady him. "This feels different. Like it’s... heavier. Closer."

Victor shifted, the weight of him in Elias’s lap now steadying him. His thumb brushed once more over the mark at Elias’s nape, the scent of smoke and spice deepening in the air. "It’s because you’re not recessive with ," he said softly. "We’re mates. You’re dominant. Your body knows it."

Elias blinked at him, a faint frown creasing his brow. "That’s not exactly comforting."

Victor’s mouth curved, but his voice stayed low and careful. "It’s not supposed to be comforting," he said. "It’s supposed to be honest. You’re changing. And I’ll keep you steady until it evens out."

Elias huffed, eyes closing again, but he didn’t pull his hand away from Victor’s hair. "How can your dominance change the biology of mine?"

Victor’s palm stayed warm at the nape of his neck, thumb still tracing its unhurried circles. "It’s not usual," he murmured, eyes fixed on the mark as if he could see the shift happening under Elias’s skin. "Most bonds don’t level out like this. You’re recessive, but our compatibility pulls you up to . Your body’s doing what it was built to do, adapting, making itself viable for what it thinks is coming."

Elias’s brows knit faintly; he’d been half-dozing, but the words landed anyway. "What it thinks is coming," he repeated. "You an..."

Victor’s eyes flicked up, crimson glinting in the winter light filtering through the window. "A pregnancy. A viable one," he said quietly. "It’s rare. But not impossible. Your biology is matching mine."

Elias let out a long, slow breath, thumb still drifting through Victor’s hair. "Great," he muttered. "So now my body’s running a compatibility upgrade without asking ."

Victor’s mouth curved, but the glint in his gaze softened. "It’s not an upgrade. It’s a choice you made the mont you didn’t push away. Now your body’s just catching up."

For a while only the sound of the wind against the window and the muted city noise filled the room. Then Elias tilted his head, eyes still closed, voice quieter. "You’re a god, Victor. If... if we did have children...would they even be ours? Or would they be yours? The children of your body?"

Victor went very still against him, the thumb at his nape pausing mid-circle. For a heartbeat his crimson eyes flicked up to et Elias’s, searching his face as if weighing how much to tell him. When he spoke again, the teasing edge was gone; his voice ca out low, almost rough.

"They’d be ours," he said at last. "This is now; it doesn’t matter that the body wasn’t completely mine from the beginning. Every fiber of it is fused with my power."

Elias blinked at him, lashes lowering. "So no divine loopholes. No little fragnts of a god running around?"

Victor’s palm slid from his nape to cradle the back of his head, the touch careful. "That’s a different answer," he murmured. "They’d carry power, yes. At the very least they’d be dominant, like or Ruo. Not gods, but... demigods, maybe. Children born with enough of my strength in their bones to be sothing more than human."

Elias huffed a breath, sowhere between disbelief and a dry laugh. "Demigods. Great. I can barely keep you fed and now you’re telling to plan for little thunderbolts."

Victor’s mouth curved faintly at that, his thumb resuming its slow circle against his skin. "Plan for nothing," he said quietly. "Your body is doing the planning. Mine will keep you steady while it does."

Elias let out a breath that was almost a laugh. "I’m going to regret this."