[BL]Hunted by the God of Destruction

Matteo

Of course.

Elias let it ring for a few seconds before picking up. His voice came out flat, not quite cold. Just tired.

"Hey."

"Wow, a live response," Matteo said, tone casual, but Elias knew him too well. The usual edge of playfulness was tight. Forced. "I was beginning to think I'd have to show up at your door with actual coffee and probable cause."

Elias dropped the towel onto the floor, settling back onto the bed. "What is it?"

"Just checking in," Matteo said, and then, after a beat too long, "...and maybe to ask why your name's all over a funding memo that was locked three days ago and somehow approved this morning."

Elias's fingers froze where they rested near his temple, the simple act of drying his hair forgotten.

'How did he find out?' he thought, sharp and clear like the edge of a blade cutting through fog. 'I barely received the documents.' He hasn't signed them yet. 

The thought clung to the corners of his mind like mildew.

'This is odd… or I'm being paranoid.'

"Who told you?"

"Clara," Matteo said. "She's still part-timing in the grant office, remember? One drink and she'll spill classified national secrets. Except this time, she didn't even need the drink. She told everyone. Said it was hilarious. Said someone must really want to sleep with you."

Elias groaned, a sound low in his throat that wasn't quite annoyance and wasn't quite dread. "Of course she did."

"But seriously," Matteo said, and this time the edge of playfulness was gone. "What the hell happened, Elias? You submitted a throwaway proposal. Stone didn't even open it. And now you're the lead? Fully funded? With priority clearance? Admin said it was flagged for 'high-level interest.' That doesn't just happen. You're not exactly on anyone's golden boy list."

That last part hit harder than it should've, not because it was cruel, but because it was true.

And more than that… because he was right. Elias hadn't told anyone.

Not about the meeting. Not about the way the door had opened to a room that wasn't meant for him, and a man with red eyes had looked up like he'd been waiting.

And yet, here Matteo was.

He felt a chill crawl up the back of his spine and settle just under his skin, the kind that comes with a sense of something standing just behind you, just out of sight, just close enough to know.

Still, he said nothing about it.

"It was my professor's proposal," he said instead, the lie softened by enough truth to pass. "Stone sent me to take the fall. Present something harmless. Politely fail. But somehow Victor Numen thought it was a good idea."

There was silence on the line, sharp and not the good kind.

"Victor?" Matteo repeated, voice suddenly tighter. "Elias… don't tell me you went to him. Did you talk about Ruo?"

The question wasn't just worry, it was layered, like Matteo already feared the answer and still hoped to be wrong.

Elias's mouth felt dry.

"I told you she's fine," Matteo added quickly, like he could steer them back to something safe. "She's at the main manor. Our sergeant even bragged about speaking with her yesterday. Nothing sounded off."

"I didn't talk about her," Elias said, his tone as if he were presenting bullshit to people in order to free up time for a project. 

"I was supposed to meet Samael," he added, trying to sound as exhausted as the truth warranted. "But I think he figured out Stone dipped and passed me off to his brother."

More silence.

Longer, heavier.

"Jesus," Matteo said finally. "You really ended up in his office."

"I didn't plan to."

"You never plan to," Matteo muttered, voice full of the kind of weary fondness that only came from someone who'd known you too long to walk away and too well to pretend you were safe just because you said the words in the right order.

Elias closed his eyes.

"It was supposed to be a favor," he murmured, the sentence folding in on itself as it left him. "Smile, nod, present something no one would read. Instead… I walked out with a leash. And you know I can't technically refuse my PhD professor. Not without blowing up the lab. Or my future. Or both."

There was a breath of static on the line, like Matteo had shifted in his seat, maybe leaned back or rubbed a hand over his face.

"Right," he said finally, dryly. "Now I remember why I didn't stay in academia. The trauma bonding and thinly disguised indentured servitude."

Elias gave a quiet exhale that might've been amusement if it didn't sound so hollow.

Matteo didn't press, but then his voice returned, lighter, laced with that same stubborn charm he always wore like a second badge.

"So. What do you say about a drink tonight?" he said. "Call it a celebration. For your miraculous rise in the scientific ranks, or your survival rate in the jaws of Victor Numen, dealer's choice."

Elias said nothing.

"Also," Matteo added smoothly, "I'll be calling it a date. You can call it an alibi, if that helps you sleep better."

Elias let his head tip back against the wall, a faint thud muffled by plaster and distance. He stared at the ceiling for a long moment, at nothing in particular, at the patterns he wasn't sure were shadows or just the kind of exhaustion that made things move when they shouldn't.

Then, because Matteo would never stop asking, and because he didn't want him to…

"Not tonight," Elias said, the words low, almost reluctant. "I didn't really sleep last week."

A pause, long enough for honesty to settle between them without needing to be explained.

"…But tomorrow?" he added, quieter now, like the promise cost something small and sharp to say out loud.

"You're buying."

There was a beat of silence. Then Matteo's voice came back, lighter, gentler, like the smile was already there, waiting.

"Obviously."

Click.

Elias let the phone slip from his hand to the mattress and stayed where he was, still damp, still half-dressed, still surrounded by the weight of decisions he hadn't made but now had to live with. But at least now, just faintly, there was something to anchor to. Not hope, exactly. But something close enough to keep breathing.