Chapter Text
Everything ached. Literally everything. Few people get to experience having a sore heel, or a sore left nostril, but Shiro had the benefit of getting the whole package at once. It felt marvellous. Marvellous in the neutral sense that an experience is spectacular, and not necessarily in a good way. Shiro rolled over to get up, only to find his plans thwarted by a resounding b'tong right in his forehead.
"Ouch, ow, dammit…!" His voice automatically dropped to a whisper on the last syllables, as he realised he hadn't bumped his head on the bedside table, but on another head. "Guy's got a skull made of stone", he thought as he rubbed his forehead, glaring at the face half buried in the huge, heart-shaped pillow. "And he's still sleeping!"
Nobody will admit it, but everyone who has had the opportunity to study a sleeping person has taken great interest in doing so. While everybody looks like angels when they are asleep is a bit overly euphemistic, it's not entirely untrue. Mephis- Samael was barely recognisable when he slept. Without his ubiquitous smile, without that look in his eyes that could piss off the blind, he looked… serene. Not like a demon at all. And twenty years younger.
The pink yukata piled loosely over a body that was little more than a collection of twigs arranged like a sleeping person. He had seemed thin when he supported him, but seriously… he really should stop drinking that tea…
Shiro couldn't help it: a wide grin tugged his lips. The demon had curled up in his sleep and hugged a huge, blue unicorn-plushie close to his chest. How's that for a son of Satan…? Weird as it was, it brought to mind Agari's words from long ago: cute.
And now Agari was dead. The saboteurs were dead, his contract was disbanded, and he was free to leave True Cross Academy. No life-and-death battles against demons, no bantering with a principal from hell, no fighting back-to-back with classmates that were anything from hot-tempered pilgrims to lesbian half-demons.
The human mind can adapt to almost any conditions, bad as well as good: and sometimes, it doesn't want to re-adapt.
"I'm going to be an exorcist." The corner of Shiro's lips yanked into an incredulous smile. "I'm going to be a freakin' awesome exorcist."
At some point in his voyeuristic explorations, Shiro realized that Me- that Samael was curled up because Shiro had hogged all the bed-covers to himself. Deciding he was getting up anyway and might as well, he awkwardly spread the covers over the principal. It was awkward to wake up next to another man; even more so when you knew the "man" was Satan's son.
Shiro sat down on his haunches beside the bed and squinted at him one extra time, still not really believing it. Satan's son? Eldest son? A sweet-toothed mecha freak that slept with a stuffed unicorn…? What on earth was he doing in the Vatican?
"Who's a pervert now, Shiro?" The drooping eyes opened a sliver.
"Go back to sleep."
"So you can continue whatever you were up to~? Tsk tsk, such a-"
Shiro grabbed the unicorn and pushed it over Samael's head.
"You're much better when you're quiet, you dirty-minded demon."
"Mud-monkey! You uncivilised, rude little coal tar! Is this any way to treat royalty?!"
He freed himself of the plushie, sat up and glared daggers at Shiro.
"You're not royalty in Assiah", Shiro smirked, taking in the lovely picture before him. "And you might wanna check a mirror before you go calling other people uncivilised."
Samael glanced sideways at the bedroom mirror. Oh, his face… Almost worth dying for.
"Point taken", he grumbled, massaging his tired eyelids. The ridiculously coloured hair stood in all directions, making him look decidedly un-royal. "How I'd like to take this day off…" he sighed and poofed a matching Unico comb into his hand. "Alas, no rest for the wicked."
"Speaking of nothing." Shiro held up his hands before him. "I suppose it's thanks to you I'm un-shot?"
"That was a most unexpected side effect", he said, carefully combing his two-coloured haystack smooth. "I didn't possess you, technically; only stored all my power in you." An ironic smile touched his lips. "But as I regenerated myself, you seem to have hijacked part of my magic and were healed as well." He cocked a thin eyebrow. "Otherwise I would never have put you in my bed."
"How very like you, letting injured people sleep on the floor… So…" Where to begin? What to ask? "This whole thing, just what-"
There were two rapid knocks on the door; Belial entered without waiting for response.
"Pardon my manners, master, but I heard your highness were awake." He sounded rushed, but even so took his time to bow in that exquisitely proper manner specific to butlers. "Vatican representatives arrived just now. I am informed they are quite impatient and are headed for your highness' mansion as I speak." He paused. "It would be very detrimental if they discovered your highness'… guest."
Uh-huh: guest. Shiro felt heat shooting through his cheeks at the implication in the butler's voice.
"So soon? I wager Beaumonde is among them~" An amused smile tugged the corners of Meph- Samael's lips. "Keep my guest out of the way, Belial. On second thought: keep him busy, lest he decides to poke his nose where it doesn't belong again. Breakfast and a hot bath should take care of that."
"As you wish, master." The butler bowed again, and fixed his reptile-eyed gaze on Shiro. "This way, young man."
Shiro followed Belial to the kitchen in the servants' quarters, and the virtual host of demons that worked there. Maids, servants, that little purple monkey with a chef hat… Samael may not be royalty in Assiah, but he did have his own court.
"Which would you like first, young man?" Belial asked, turning his head ever so slightly to glance at him. "A bath, or breakfast?"
"Er… a bath?" Ugh, the formality…
"I shall escort you then. Sébastien?" A manservant, whose black hair was roughly the same style as Me- as Samael's, halted. "You have fairly the same build as his highness' guest. Fetch one of your spare uniforms and leave it by the bathroom in the eastern wing, third floor."
"Yes, my lord."
Sébastien hurried off to deliver the platter of jam tarts, but nobody paid him any notice. They were all looking at Shiro, as if he were some curious wild animal that had found its way into the kitchen. What, they weren't used to human guests…? Or was it because they had the same idea Belial had?
"I'm not… his guest in that sense", he tried, stalking after the straight-backed butler as they made their way for the bathroom on the third floor. "We weren't…"
"Of course not. I know my master's tastes: a boy like you is not on his highness' menu", the butler assured in a schooled voice.
Really? Really? So Mephi- Samael had been making fun of him all this time? There was no hidden meaning in what he said? Relief, as of heavenly absolution, flooded Shiro.
"You made it sound like I was", he said, trying not to let show how thankful he was.
"That was not my intention: I merely did not know how to address you. You are, as previously said, not the kind of person I would expect to find in his highness' bedchamber. …what is your relation to his highness?" he inquired. Oh yes, all demons are curious…
A smile tugged the corner of Shiro's mouth.
"I'm his friend."