Chapter Text
“What if I just ate like. All the ice cream in the fridge right now. All at once.”
“Aside from the brain freeze you’d be stuck with for a while?” Satan shook his head. “It wouldn’t be very healthy for you. And I don't imagine your stomach will feel very good after you've gone and done it, either.”
“Yes but imagine. I could probably do it, if you gave me a big enough spoon.” If you had thought about it a little more, you'd realize that the chance of actually succeeding in eating the whole freezer's worth of ice cream was, in fact, very low. But a single tub? That would be doable. You nodded, already trying to conjure which of the many would be your target. A glorious conquest indeed.
“Unless, of course, Beel already ate all of it while we weren’t looking.”
You turned to Satan. “Boo. Then I’ll make pudding or something and eat that. But I’m hungry and bored and want sugar more than anything else. I could just eat spoonfuls of sugar, actually.”
“Which still isn’t healthy for you. I could make you something with more substance than sugar and milk, if you asked.” He hadn't quite looked up from the book in hand, but you got the impression that somehow, he was still looking at you funny. In his mind. Waiting for you to concede.
You would do no such thing. “But it’ll make my brain go real fast if I get some sugar, and maybe I’ll be able to finish one of my assignments ahead of time. Imagine that. Getting your work done ahead of time.”
“I don’t really have to imagine it.” He reminded you, again, that he was the patron demon of books, and being on top of things; or at the very least, he was vying for the title of ‘most on top of things,’ in a competition with Lucifer, which he was just eking out a win on. Er. In.
“I do.” It made sense that after five thousand years of being booksmart, Satan would be on top of his game all the time- and not being the default dadliest of the brothers, he could also devote more of his headspace to scholarly pursuits. Unfortunately for you, you had lost that ‘on top of things’ ability some time after grade school. “Also, out of curiosity, how long have you been in RAD? Isn’t this like. Demon College? Or something like that?”
“Something like that,” he agreed, looking up as you pushed away from the table.
“How long to get your degree?”
“What?”
“You know. To graduate.” You gestured for him to follow you, if for no other reason than to continue the conversation.
“Oh.” He considered it for a second. “Frankly, I’ve passed most of the classes available; I only don’t graduate because I still have other subjects to learn.”
“And the others?”
“Well, you’ve seen them. More than half of my brothers aren’t exactly passing even on the best of days.”
“Mmhm.” You steer him towards the kitchen; his attention still half in a book, it wasn’t too hard. As long as you walked towards the kitchen, he tailed after you. You remembered doing something similar when you were still young enough to devour books at a rate of three odysseys per week; following the footsteps of whoever was nearest in your peripheral vision, and occasionally becoming lost because of it. But you were still hungry and distracted, and in any event, if Beel could raid the fridge at odd hours of the night, you should be able to as well.
Satan only really noticed what you were doing when you opened the freezer door. “Then you’re not going to listen to my advice?”
“Nope.” You had already pulled the weirdest-sounding flavor from the ice-box; a spoon in hand, and every intention of eating the whole quart- or, getting a stomach ache trying.
He sighed, a wry smile audible in the sound. “Just try not to make a mess with it, then.”
“I would never.”
“Good. Are you ready to go back to your studying?” You noted the use of 'your', implying that he was already done, and that the book he was reading was for fun, because... Because it's Satan and he probably doesn't need to study. Or maybe he never stopped. You tried to catch the title of the book he was reading, but to no avail.
“Do you want the right answer or the true one?”
"There's a difference?" He almost sounded surprised by that one.
"The right one is 'yes'," you started, already prying the lid off your treasure, "and the true one is 'no, but I'll go back to sit with you and stare at my papers for another hour either way'."
"Ah."
"Mmmmhm," you nodded, turning back to the study.
“Don’t use that as a distraction- you still need to finish a few of those assignments tonight, you know," he started after you, eyes off the page for a second or two just to make his point clear. Not that you really noticed, since you were too busy giving yourself the first of many brain freezes. Preparing to use the ice cream, indeed, as a food distraction. It's ever so difficult, after all, to work when you have to use one hand to stabilize the container, and the other to shovel frozen sugar into your mouth at as great a speed as you could manage, before the ice cream just be came melted sugar-cream slurry. "Did you even hear me?"
"Of course," you nodded, "ice cream distraction food bad. I would never dream of grabbing a food that needs to be eaten somewhat constantly, to prevent its deterioration into a drink, and which takes some amount of focus to keep from making a mess. Never once would I do such a thing."
"You're as bad as Beel."
"Not half so! Me, a mere human? All I'm doing is getting a little sugar for my brain."