[BL]Hunted by the God of Destruction

"If this is a game to you," Elias said, low and sharp, "you picked the wrong stabilizer. I would rather put a bullet through my brain than be used by the likes of you."

Victor raised his hands in mock surrender, the gold trim of his robe catching the moonlight like blood on velvet.

"Easy now, tough guy. No need to be dramatic."

Elias turned on him, eyes flashing, voice taut with the kind of fury that had nowhere to go.

"Dramatic? You're talking about ascending gods and divine circuitry and calling it boredom. I've had one night to figure out I'm apparently built to conduct power like a fucking nuclear converter and you're sitting there sipping existential tea."

Victor blinked slowly. "I don't drink tea."

Elias nearly threw something.

"I hate you," Elias muttered, pacing a single step before the pain in his ankle snagged like a hook and forced him to stop. His hand clenched at his side, fingers twitching with frustration.

"You don't hate me," Victor replied, far too calm. "You hate the situation."

He said it with the kind of confidence that made Elias's blood pressure spike. That smooth, impervious tone, like he was reading from a script only he had seen and had already memorized.

Elias turned slowly. "Why do you have to be so right? You know… After running away from my mad family, I had a normal life; I was enjoying being recessive, almost never having heats or dealing with divine power. Now everything is gone." 

"Not everything." 

"Say something I still have." 

"Right instinct about your family?" Victor asked, far too amused.

Elias stared at him like he was calculating the velocity needed to launch the nearest lamp through his face.

"That's not comforting," he said flatly. "That's barely even funny."

Victor shrugged, unbothered. "Then I should work on my humor."

"You should work on everything."

The corner of Victor's mouth twitched. "Noted. Though you didn't seem to mind me last night when I told you how to run."

"That was survival," Elias snapped. "Don't confuse adrenaline with affection."

Victor's eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger, but like he was filing something away. "I don't. I know what affection looks like on you."

Elias's stomach dropped, but he held his ground. "Don't get ahead of yourself."

"I'm patient." Victor smiled again, and this time, it wasn't amused. It was intent. "I'll wait. And in the meantime, I'll keep you safe."

Elias's chest tightened. "Even if I don't want you to?"

"Especially then."

The words shouldn't have made his skin prickle. But they did. Because they were too calm. Too certain. Too familiar.

"And now what? I get an existential crisis with everything unfolding and just stay here, shielded by you?" Elias asked. 

"No. You get your crisis, but at my place. It's the safest place." 

"I don't like it." 

Victor tilted his head, slow and deliberate, like he'd already accounted for that answer ten minutes ago.

"You don't have to like it," he said.

Victor's grin was all teeth and shadowed charm. "You don't have to like it. You just have to stay alive."

Elias dragged a hand down his face. "That's not exactly a glowing sales pitch."

"I'm not trying to sell you anything," Victor said smoothly. "I'm offering you shelter."

"And what do you gain from all of this?" Elias asked, narrowing his soft brown eyes, he realized that he didn't have his glasses anymore. 

Victor didn't answer right away. He watched Elias for a moment, as if weighing how much truth he could afford to offer. Then, with the same unflinching calm that made Elias want to throw something, he said:

"Balance."

Elias blinked. "That's vague enough to be suspicious."

Victor allowed himself a faint smile. "Because it is. But not in the way you think."

Elias stepped back toward the bed, moving slowly, ankle still aching. "Try me."

Victor's gaze didn't waver. "I've been in this world too long, Elias. Dormant, silent, observing from the shadows while everything fell into chaos. The gods left holes in the fabric of what used to be. And now the ones trying to fill those holes are worse. Sloppier. Hungry. And I need this world steady if I'm going to remain in it."

Elias stared, trying to decide if he should be even more suspicious or not. 

"Aren't you just three hundred years old?" 

Victor laughed, a low, warm tone different from the other one, one that gave him goosebumps from how nice it was. "You are a clever one. Yes, technically I'm just three hundred years old… in this form, but I gained the power, memories, and age of the seven gods I've killed." 

"Creepy." 

Victor's smile widened, not offended in the slightest. "Efficient."

Elias leaned back slightly, arms crossing over his chest. "So, let me get this straight. You're some divine amalgam of vengeance, patience, and sarcasm, wearing a rich man's body, sitting in a designer wheelchair, and telling me I'm the key to keeping your immortal ass grounded?"

Victor tilted his head, the light from the window catching the deep crimson of his eyes. "Succinct. I like that."

"And you're not even pretending this isn't manipulative."

"Why bother? You're too intelligent to believe otherwise." Victor's tone softened just a little. "I'm not here to win your affection, Elias. I'm here because you matter. And whether you like it or not, you're already part of this."

Elias huffed, running a hand through his hair. His fingers still trembled faintly, the ache in his body a reminder that things had gone too far for him to turn back.

"So, what do you want from me?" He asked, trying his best to comprehend all the information that Victor threw at him. 

"To be my soulmate." The alpha said it as if he were talking about a dinner date rather than fusing their souls.

This time, Elias threw a pillow at the man; Victor dogged it, and it landed on the window with a low thud. 

"Are you mad?!" 

Victor didn't flinch, of course he didn't. He only raised a brow, clearly unimpressed by the airborne pillow and even less rattled by the outburst.

"Possibly," he said, far too relaxed for someone who had just suggested spiritual matrimony. "But that's beside the point."

Elias stared at him, jaw slightly slack, caught somewhere between disbelief and pure, unfiltered indignation.

"You don't just say that," Elias snapped, taking a limping step forward. "You don't dump three hundred years of divine baggage on someone and then… then… ask them to fuse souls with you like it's some casual relationship upgrade!"

Victor actually looked thoughtful for a moment, tapping one slender finger against the gold armrest of his chair. "You're right," he admitted. "I should have brought wine first."

Elias looked skyward like he was appealing to a higher power… ironic, really.

"Gods save me," he muttered. "Oh wait, they're the reason I'm in this mess."

Victor's mouth quirked, amused. "Not all gods. Just the ambitious ones. I, for instance, am extremely content with what I have. Especially if what I have includes you."

"That wasn't romantic," Elias said, but his voice faltered slightly, like something in those words had cut deeper than he wanted to admit. "You sound like an obsessive partner with too many red flags. Possibly black at this point." 

Victor chuckled, slow and unapologetic. "Obsessive? Perhaps. But you're hardly one to talk. You read Batista's forbidden papers twice and still kept them under your bed."

Elias narrowed his eyes. "That's not the same."

Victor shrugged, his silk nightrobe sliding over his shoulder with the kind of casual elegance that only made Elias more annoyed. The motion revealed just enough skin, defined collarbone, the edge of a gold chain curling beneath the fabric, the faintest outline of muscle along his chest, to be infuriatingly deliberate.

Elias looked away immediately.

"That's not the same," he repeated, this time sharper.

"No," Victor agreed, his tone maddeningly mild. "Because I'm honest about my obsession."

Elias stared at the wall, refusing to look back. "If I knew you were going to flirt like a bored immortal in a cheap novel, I would've stayed unconscious."

Victor laughed again, low and pleased. "You would've missed the part where I ask you to move in with me and fuse our souls. Tragic, really."

Elias groaned into his hands. "Oh my god."

"Technically, I'm your god," Victor said with zero shame.

Elias grabbed the second pillow and aimed it without looking. This one hit Victor square in the chest. And this time, Victor didn't dodge.