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The laughter outside of the locked door slips under the crack and into Leviathan’s room, resonating off of the walls, off of his soul. He presses his palms harder against his ears, hissing when it doesn’t seem to muffle the noise. Grinding his teeth, his eyes are shut tight, pretending he’s elsewhere. The noise gets louder, closer. His eyes snap open without his permission as he stares daggers into the door as if it were the one merrily joking instead of the hallway’s current inhabitants. The room around him might as well be cast into darkness, the only thing he can focus on is the noise. Their noise.
His tail lashes behind him as he confirms the voices: His partner and his brother. He’s been too busy between events in his games and overwhelming assignments to spend time with them, but they promised him that he shared an equal amount of their heart as Lucifer did. They swore it to him. They told him they would reaffirm that whenever he needed. He grits his teeth harder, the sound of them comfortably bickering between each other like an old couple reaching his ears. It was all well and good until he could hear his partner stutter in the hallway to his brother over the phone. Until he noticed the marks he left on them. Until he watched them catch eyes across the room.
His eyes feel hot, stinging, but he wouldn’t dare let his hands fall from his ears to rub at them. Tears threatening to fall freely, he listens and burns holes into his door as their chatter gets quieter, the telltale sign of them walking to his brother’s room. Again. The tears hit his pant legs before he even has the chance to blink. This is, what, the third week straight they’ve spent in his room over night?
“Wholly and equally.” He scoffs at himself, recalling his partner’s promise. He swears to himself that it’s because he won’t put out. The walls of the House of Lamentation are not nearly as thick as the human thought they were. He had started getting into the habit of blasting white noise through his speakers during the late hours. Any night after he had seen them during the day, any night he had to bite back sobs as he would tell them he has too many assignments to work on to hang out, he would have to plug his ears and hope it would stop at some point.
It isn’t a secret to anyone that Leviathan has far less experience than Lucifer. He’s adverse to touch, especially in public, and he’s greatly lacking in expertise in what people like. Lucifer, however, is the type of demon to parade his partner around, showing them off, showing what is his. The tears fall faster, heavier. How many times has he heard him refer to them as if they belonged to him through the walls and when they thought he couldn’t hear? He angles his head down to bite onto the hood of his sweater, not wanting to grit his teeth harder and risk damage, but needing to get the emotions out somehow. He might not be the smartest person in the family when it comes to relationships, but he at least understands what rules there are when it comes to sharing a partner with someone.
He can’t help the intrusive thoughts. The thoughts that he isn’t good enough. That he doesn’t give them enough. That they’re disappointed and feeling deprived of love. He told them outright he can’t handle too much touch or affection, between it flustering him to the point of short-circuiting, to it making him feel disgusting when others can see it. They nodded, acknowledging it, saying that it was okay, but it would take a lot of adjustment on their side. At the time he was just happy they understood and accepted him, but as the days passed, he couldn’t help the thoughts of inadequacy. Maybe if he just grit his teeth and let it happen. Maybe if he initiated more when he could tell they wanted something. Even then… It would be bound to lead to more. He isn’t ready for more. He isn’t sure he ever will be. The mere thought leaves a bad taste in his mouth and his lip quirking in disgust.
The sound of Lucifer’s door clicking shut finds its way underneath Leviathan’s palms and to his ears. Lowering his hands carefully, he can still hear their voices resonate down the hallway. He mutters to himself that they ought to be more considerate before he spins around in his chair and picks up his DDD off of his desk, opening up the message history between himself and his partner. He reads over the messages from the last time they saw each other. He had asked about their night with Lucifer on the recent holiday, knowing more than they thought he did due to inconvenient vent locations in the house. They kept back all that they did, thankfully, but he still feels venom in his throat regarding it. He shouldn’t. He didn’t want to know in the first place, he mostly asked to prove to himself that his envy wouldn’t swallow him whole if he did. He clicks his tongue at himself, tossing his DDD onto a beanbag behind him. So much for not being consumed by his cardinal sin.
Pulling his legs to his chest, he ducks his head behind them, pressing his face against his thighs, his horns poking at his knees, shuddering from his sobs. The most he can do at this point is hope he’s wrong. Hope that he’s just jealous. Hope that it’s only his envy. Hope that his partner isn’t lying to him and truly does love him as much as his brother, but…
His breath catches in his throat as he feels his tears soak into his pants. He wants to ask someone for advice. Satan would know what to do, hell, even Mammon might. But no, he couldn’t. He can’t let them know he’s doubting his partner. He has given them everything, his heart, his soul, his word and promises, even his body if they so desired. Turning back now would be more painful than staying put and waiting to see what happens, he decides.
He wraps his arms around his legs, squeezing himself. Leviathan loves his partner more than he can verbally describe. He would do anything they asked of him, even if he wouldn’t admit it to an outside party. If they wanted him to drop everything to give them attention, he would, grades and gacha be damned. But they never asked. They never demanded. They never pouted or whined. He has to convince himself that they weren’t just counting down the minutes until they could see his brother again, but it was near impossible some days.