Seducing the Guideverse With My System — Raising an Anomaly [BL]

Morozov Private Manor

"Ah, Devvy boy." Viktor spread out his arms the moment Devon strode past the foyer and into the large living room.

The ice Prince was clad in nothing but a snowy white robe and a pair of boxer briefs. Devon frowned when his gaze locked briefly on his naked torso.

In contrast to his slight distress, Viktor seemed ecstatic. Maybe too much. He took a big puff from an expensive-looking cigar, grinning from ear to ear. Then he downed an entire glass of what smelled like vodka, all while swaying his hips to the American pop music echoing from almost every corner of the house.

"Viktor, what’s the meaning of this?" Devon didn’t even look slightly impressed. "I left something important to come here because I thought it was urgent."

A few house staff lingered behind Viktor, their faces flushed with embarrassment at the young master’s horrendous dance moves.

None was as speechless as his personal assistant, Solomon. He forced a smile as he left Viktor’s side and walked up to Devon.

"I’m sorry for master Viktor’s... current state." He apologized. "He did mention he had something important to discuss with you. But—"

"Was that before or after he got wasted?" Devon couldn’t help but get flashbacks from their college years. Hmph. Some things never fully change after all. "Alright, Vik. That’s enough."

He got to the S-Rank before he could pour more vodka from a bottle. The other empty bottles around the centre table gave Devon an idea of how intoxicated he was right now.

It takes a LOT to get an S-Rank drunk or high.

"Hey, no fun," Viktor grunted, shoving Devon with his shoulder so hard that he almost dropped the bottle. "I almost thought you wouldn’t come here. Which reminds me... You really haven’t been here since senior year."

"And now you know why." Devon rolled his eyes, dropping the bottle. Then he grabbed Viktor’s elbow, forcing him to crash onto the sofa behind him. "Jeez, look at you. What do you think you’re doing?"

Viktor brushed aside his hand with a scoff. "I’m fine, Dad." A dry laugh broke past his mouth. "Life didn’t end when I realised my feelings for a manipulative little Guide might not be real after all."

Devon’s heart skipped a beat at the reminder of the Ambrose situation.

Ugh. Of course.

He raised his head, giving the staff members and Solomon a look. It took a few seconds for them to note that they were no longer needed in the room.

As they trooped out, Devon’s posture straightened. "So is that why you called me here? To sulk?"

"Oh, fuck you, Ferguson." Viktor’s accent slipped. "Let’s just say... misery loves company. Plus, you’re the only other man who can relate to how I’m feeling right now."

Devon blinked at him without saying a word.

For drunken words, they didn’t sound all that delirious.

He sat beside his best friend/rival, resisting the urge to pour a glass for himself. "Rose really fucked us up, huh?" That made both of them chuckle. Genuinely this time. "I had to leave his suite shortly after you left. For clarity."

"Pretty sure we got all the clarity possible with all his devious confessions." Viktor flung back his head with a heavy exhale. "You know, I just keep thinking of how crazy it is. He’s supposedly a C-Rank Guide yet he’s got some of the most powerful men in the country circling him like moths to a flame."

That made Devon snigger. "Yeah... Valentine fucking Lockwood included."

Memories of the Necromancer’s power during the Echo Rift raid rushed through his head. And that wasn’t even anywhere near his full potential.

Viktor hummed thoughtfully at that. He swirled the vodka left in his glass before downing the rest in one go. "Tell me something honestly, Dev."

"Hm?"

"Before the link..." the ice Prince squinted ahead, his voice quieter now. "Did you ever feel anything for Ambrose?"

Devon’s fingers tapped against his knee instinctively.

What kind of question was that?

Still... he answered.

"There was curiosity." He admitted after a moment. "The kind you feel toward someone strange enough to constantly occupy your thoughts." He chuckled dryly. "But if you’re asking whether I felt this level of attraction before the link?"

He shook his head once. "No. Not even close."

Viktor nodded slowly as though that answer only confirmed what he’d already suspected.

"Same here." He muttered. "I thought he was attractive. Interesting too." His lips twitched faintly. "Annoyingly interesting."

Devon snorted at the phrasing.

"But after the link..." Viktor’s smile faded. "It became unbearable. Like my emotions got dialled up to a hundred. Which leaves the million-dollar question."

Silence stretched between them briefly.

"Are our feelings even real?"

The words settled heavily in the room. Even the music playing faintly in the background suddenly felt distant.

Devon leaned back against the sofa, dragging a hand down his face. Truthfully, he’d been asking himself the same thing ever since Ambrose confessed.

But every time he thought about it...

"No." He finally answered.

Viktor blinked at him. "No?"

"No, I don’t think they’re fake." Devon inhaled deeply, his gaze lowering to the untouched vodka bottle on the table. "Maybe the link intensified things. Accelerated them. But..." his jaw tightened slightly. "I know myself well enough to know what I feel for Rose isn’t artificial."

His chest strangely lightened saying that out loud.

"I’d still want him even without the link." He murmured. "Maybe not this intensely. But I would."

Viktor didn’t respond immediately.

He just stared at Devon for a long moment before slowly angling himself toward him on the sofa.

Then, with complete seriousness, he asked: "What if we shared him?"

Devon’s face blanked. "... Excuse me?"

Viktor shrugged lazily despite the dangerous glint in his icy blue eyes. "Think about it. You want him. I want him. Valentine probably wants him too but fuck that psycho." He waved a dismissive hand. "So what if instead of fighting each other over Ambrose..."

He leaned closer with a drunken grin. "... we date him together?"

For several seconds Devon only stared at him as though he’d completely lost his damn mind.

Then unfortunately—his traitorous brain betrayed him. A flash of imagination hit him before he could stop it.

Ambrose between the two of them on a couch. Rolling his eyes at their bickering. Falling asleep against one while arguing with the other. Soft blonde hair illuminated under warm apartment lights.

The thought was... domestic.

Dangerously domestic.

"Oh, fuck off." Devon groaned, burying his face in his palm while Viktor burst into drunken laughter.

The most annoying part of it all wasn’t even imagining it. It was how much he enjoyed the thought.

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