[ Desire is a funny thing. There is a heady satisfaction to be found in being admired, wanted, like a trophy, like a legend, like the piles of gil hidden at the bottom of Sastasha -- something not quite real, not quite verifiable. Viktor has never shied away from any gaze, not even the ones tinged with hunger, with misplaced adoration. Empty as it is, it is a guilty pleasure, eating up the attention meant for the Warrior like candied fruits and cakes, a sweet and unfulfilling balance to the inhumanity of heroism. No room for fire in all that sugar, just instant gratification, quickly burnt to ash. Others look and he allows them, and in that there is some small measure of control over who and what he is. It is transactional. It is junk food. Not something he needs or wants, but something to be enjoyed when offered.

This, Hades, is not that.

I believe you, says the endlessly particular Sorcerer of Eld, looking at him like he's hung the moon. And... he does not mean the Warrior of Light when he says it. Hades looks and sees Viktor. Ordinary, exhausted, refugee, adventurer, soldier Viktor. Something worth studying, savoring, and it's almost embarrassing how nourishing it is. Under his gaze, Viktor is not just admired but seen, understood, and still wanted. It leaves him hungry, starving for more. This, Hades, is something worth craving.

Intimacy is nothing new between them now, but Viktor still notices Hades's arousal and can't let go once he does. Hades looks at him. And he allows it. But in this there is no control. It is not transactional. He cannot help but stare, but want, ravenously, near craving what should be the natural conclusion to their bodies being bare, pressed so close. Shocking to realize he doesn't know what to do with this feeling, this want. His fingers slip beneath the band of Emet-Selch's pajamas, his smalls, to touch the skin where his hip and leg meet. And in the same breath, Hades gives his command, and of course, of course, Viktor obeys. There is no control here, and he likes it.

He runs fingers over the jut of Hades's hip bones, sparing a few reluctant seconds for closeness. ]

You have made it feel possible, you know. This- I am only here because of you. [ he murmurs, half tempted to ignore the chill and pull him into their bed, instead. But Hades will want to rid them both of dust and cobwebs and sweat before they climb beneath his fine sheets. And so, after a second more, Viktor steps back and into the tub.

He lowers himself slowly into water almost too hot, staring up at Hades, expectant. ]

Must I go through the whole rigamarole of getting c-clean before you allow me to indulge in you? I could've kept you p-plenty warm, you know.