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Shealtiel was in the worst possible situation he could have ever imagined.
Okay. That was a lie. But given the fact that he was currently standing awkwardly in the cramped space of a demon’s apartment with a seven foot tall animated skull handing him a succulent that he very much did not want- he figured it was pretty close.
The demon across from him yelled, making Shealtiel flinch at the sudden noise, yet the other in the room paid no mind. The skull guy- Amon, was that it?- pays the demon no attention whatsoever, continuing to fret over various potted plants that he seemingly has more than enough room for under his cloak.
“RURUPI!” The demon yells the weird phrase again, hands fisted against his knees, back arched and eyes gleaming as he’s leans comically forward in a way that suggests the television has all of his attention.
Yeah, Shealtiel thinks, if not the worst, this is definitely the weirdest.
—
“Scratched his butt at least seven times today…”
“Hey! What are you watching?!”
“…and it’s only ten in the morning…”
“It itches, okay?!”
Shealtiel dutifully ignored the demon, instead channeling all of his attention to the journal in his hands as he furiously took his notes.
This is essential. He told himself. This is for my mission.
He nodded to himself, end of his pencil propped against his bottom lip as he vaguely heard the demons ramblings about “personal boundaries” in the background. Right. He needed this information. It would be crucial to figuring out the demons weakness. Shealtiel needed to be vigilant and record every bit of new knowledge just incase it could come in handy later.
He had to prove himself.
He had to.
“Is this all you have written down?” Shealtiel glared to his left, where the demon was leaning much to close for his comfort.
“Back up.” He snapped, stepping away from the demon who just sniffed in response, hand reaching to scratch at his chaotic mane of hair. “And yes. I’ve just started. I’m going to record everything about you until I figure out your weakness.”
The demon nodded seriously, as if he had any clue as to how serious this really was to Shealtiel, and opened his mouth.
“Well you’d have better luck writing fanfiction of me.” The demon smirked, giving Shealtiel a ridiculous….what kind of pose even was that? Is he trying to be cool? “What do you say, Wannabe? I think I’d make a pretty good main character.”
He pursed his lips and fluttered his eyelids and Shealtiel kind of wanted to die.
—
All Shealtiel knew was that Luciferen was next to him and his own hands were shaking where they clutched at the fabric atop his knees.
“Hey, wannabe?” Luciferen. Calm. Quiet.
“Shealtiel?” His voice was low, gentle.
He let out a breath, but still has yet to find it in himself to respond.
“It’s okay if you can’t talk, or if you just don’t want to. I’ll talk enough for both of us, okay?” Out of the corner of his eye Shealtiel felt more than saw Luciferen slide down against the wall next to him, comfortable bed that he had tried so hard to win forgotten. “Just…listen to my voice. Come back when you’re ready.” He heard the demon next to him take a deep breath. “So, you know how Amon is obsessed with plants? Well this one time…”
Luciferen kept his word; he talked enough for the both of them.
At first, Shealtiel couldn’t really understand what he was saying, his mind too loud, blood in his ears rushing through his veins like a vicious river and drowning out much of the world around him. And yet, after a while, he found himself anchored to the gentle, steady rythum of Luciferen’s voice. A simple pitter-patter pattern; like the rain. He began focusing on the fabric of Luciferen’s shirt resting gently against the fabric on his own arm.
He breathed, in and out, several times until his hands stopped shaking. Until his knuckles ached as they unclenched from his knees and his shoulders whined as they relaxed slowly but surely.
What is going on? He asked himself, unsure yet feeling calmer than he had all his life. How is he doing that?
By the time Shealtiel actually tuned into what Luciferen was saying, he was completely relaxed, back resting softly against the drywall and his eyes slipping closed.
Somehow, they had gone from Amon’s plants to Luciferen’s magical girl figurine collection; but this time, Shealtiel found he didn’t mind so much.
He let the rhythm rock him to sleep.
—
By now, Shealtiel is running out of excuses to justify himself.
He’s laying side by side with Luciferen on the demon’s carpeted apartment’s floor, television on in the background as just a faint murmur over the roaring of Shealtiels own heartbeat in his ears.
They weren’t speaking, simply laying in each other’s company, staring at the ceiling. If he was speaking truthfully, it was kind of nice. Normally every minute with Luciferen was filled with something crazy, some chaotic fight scene or a dumbass argument over nothing of any importance.
But right now, they were just laying, and there was definitely no justifiable reason for Shealtiel’s heart to be beating this loud.
Luciferen moved, and the brush of his arm against Shealtiel’s shoulder was enough to send a shock down his spine.
Get a grip, Shealtiel! He scolded himself, staring dutifully at the ceiling as the demon next to him adjusted his position.
It seemed the other was no long lying sprawled out like a cat bathing in the sun and had chosen instead to lean up against his side, facing Shealtiel.
After a long second of just staring, Shealtiel finally snapped.
He flicked his gaze to meet Luciferen’s, a suspicious glare forming quickly. “Hey! What are you-“
He was abruptly cut off by a warm, calloused hand reaching out and cupping his cheek, long fingers spreading over his jawline and next to his ear. Steady. Grounding. He felt heat creep up to his cheeks before he could even think to stop himself, the expression on Luciferen’s face doing nothing to help that.
His brows, normally either comically shaped or rigid in place, were relaxed now, eyelids soft as scarlet eyes roamed his own face, a small upturn to his lips.
Shealtiel gulped, reaching up slowly to carefully wrap his hand around Luciferen’s, not necessarily to push him away but- against everything in his mind screaming at him- to hold him there.
Wow. He thought plainly. He’s even more handsome up close.
“Shealtiel.” Luciferen finally spoke, and Shealtiel was sure he could never hear enough of that voice.
“Luci?”
Luciferen smiled at that for some reason, and Shealtiel’s last shred of composure fell away.
He smiled back.