Chapter Text
Peter always had been curious. He was since was a little demon barely born and which every year -1000 of that thing that humans beings call year- he was becoming more and more curious. He had learned everything he had to know to succeed his father once he died (and Lucifer had plenty of time yet), he already went to Heaven and back because it was funny for him to make the angels believe that their wings were on fire or their faces were melting. But what he never experienced before was to live in the earth between Heaven and Hell, territory which casually was called Earth (which Peter never understood because that globe was made major part of water) (and no, God hadn't an answer for that, when he realized that he liked more the water than the earth the name couldn't be changed, right?).
×××
When he went upstairs to Earth, Peter realized his father pick up a boring name for his first-born. At least it wasn't John. It would be a joke for God, though, if his father would choose that one instead. He also comprehended what hot and cold was and the weather at that time of the year and at the country he chose to visit was freezing cold. He probably should choose a warmer part of that circular land, though. That was what he thought when he found a human being playing the trumpet. The sound the human was creating made Peter's heart to melt. Probably. If only he could say what he was feeling that moment.
Once the trumpeter ended his play, Peter applauded. The man looked at him, he didn't seem to be expecting that kind of recognition.
“Why on Hell these persons aren't worshiping you?”
The man laughed, softly, and spoke with the devil while he was cleaning his instrument and it began to snow.
“They don't have to. I'm happy just if they leave me some money to survive the day, y'know?”
Peter tilted his head to one side and frowned. He didn't understand that human.
“Do you want money?”
“Uhm…”, the man checked the open case of his trumpet that was in front of him. “I would really like a few dollars more to buy something to eat.”
“How much do you need?”
“Like three hundred or so?” The man said to Peter, frowning in distrust.
“You have it. Check again.”
The man looked at his case again and found exactly three hundred-dollar bills. He instantly stood up and looked at Peter with wide-open eyes.
“What…? How did you do that?”
Peter smirked devilishly.
“I'm Lucifer's son, human.”
×××
At first, Quentin was skeptic about what Peter told him, but soon he started talking with proofs about his origin, he realized Peter wasn't a liar
He kind of felt it.
“So, can you go into a church without feeling sick?”
“What's a church...?”
“It's a…”, Quentin felt his cheeks burning when he saw the curiosity on Peter's eyes. He looked away and avoided his question. “Nevermind.”
“Oh, what's this?”
When Quentin realized what Peter was doing he saw him in the middle of a gloriette decorated for Christmas.
“That's a mistletoe.”
“Look at those little things!”
“We have a tradition here...”, Peter looked down at Quentin and frowned.
“You look nervous, human.”
“Quentin, my name’s Quentin.”
“Okay. Quentin , you look nervous.”
“This tradition says that we should kiss each other.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s the tradition. What do you want me to say? We always do what the tradition-”
Peter took Quentin by surprise and kissed him roughly. As soon as they move apart, they felt something inside them. Regard Peter, he felt like his skin was burning in the inner part of his arm. When he took off his clothes -he was dressing a fancy coat just because he loved to be the center of attention- he realized he had something like a tattoo. It was a white spider web wrapping his arm surrounded by green smoke. It was beautiful, but he didn’t understand why that thing was on there if he hadn’t any of that before.
“What is this…?”
“You have to be kidding me...”
“Oh, you’re so screwed.”
Peter and Quentin looked at a woman who seems to be a demon since she had black eyes. She was sitting on the stairs of the gazebo and looked at them with a smirk.
“You’re soulmates, you dummy”, she said looking at Peter.
“Soulmates?”, the devil asked.
“Remember that thing the angel said? That all creatures of existence have a love for life.”
“But I wasn't made by God...”
“But he was. Maybe Our Lord made him, but, he’s your other half.”
“Are you trying to say that my soulmate is… the devil’s son!?”, Quentin asked panicking.
“He’s smart”, she pointed out looking at Peter. “Tell me, you genius, do you really think that your talent playing the trumpet was God’s will. Think twice.”
“I can’t believe it...”
“Come on, we need to go.”
“Where? I’m not going downstairs… like this”, Peter said showing the demon his soulmate mark.
“I’m sorry, My Prince, but we must go with or without it.”
Peter looked down his mark and followed the demon steps. He left the gloriette but he turned around to look at Quentin.
“What are you waiting for? You’re coming with us?”
Quentin hadn’t been expecting that. His day in the park has been normal until he met that boy with a strange look in his face and he had an instant crush. The mistletoe, that was just a silly excuse to kiss him. What he didn’t expect was that that boy was indeed the son of Lucifer.