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“Are you alright, Jordan? You look a little cold,” Beelzebub said as he hopped off of his snowboard. He towered over your shivering frame.
Not wanting to worry the demon too much, you tried to reassure him, “No, I’m alright…” But your chattering teeth made the words difficult to parse. You rubbed your gloved hands together in a desperate attempt to generate heat, but that didn't do too much to help the situation.
Still, you didn’t want to leave. Beelzebub had been quite excited to show you a new trick he had learned on the snowboard, and you were having fun watching him do backflips, spins, and other maneuvers at Devildom's snow park. You especially liked the way how flustered he got whenever he noticed you looking at him. Even from a distance, you could see the way his face flushed red at the times you cheered him on. Coincidentally, Beelzebub’s wipeouts only occurred during those moments.
Pulling off one of his gloves, Beelzebub placed a hand onto your cheek. You were expecting him to be cold, too, especially after being in the snow the entire day, but he was incredibly warm. Leaning into the warmth, you melted into his touch. He took a moment to rub his thumb against your cheek before pulling away (much too early, in your opinion).
Beelzebub put his glove back on. “Yep, I was right: you’re freezing.” He said as he began to unbutton his winter jacket.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you my jacket.” At this point, Beelzebub had slipped off the sleeves, revealing the beige, wool sweater he was wearing underneath. He draped it over your shoulders and knelt down to begin buttoning the jacket up. The attire was far too large on you: the sleeves dragged down and the bulkiness hid your entire upper body.
You held up your hands to stop him, “But what about you?” What Beelzebub was doing was incredibly sweet, but could you let him sacrifice his jacket for you?
He stopped what he was doing for a moment to look at you. “I’ll be fine,” Now it was his turn to reassure you, “I’m pretty used to the cold, after all.”
You had to admit that his jacket was incredibly cozy, providing a nice reprieve from the freezing tundra that was the Devildom at the moment. A distinct, earthy scent wafted from it, and you immediately classified it as Beelzebub’s scent. You gave in to your urges and put your hands back down.
“Alright, alright,” you acquiesced, “But if I see even one shiver out of you, then I’m making you put this back on. Deal?”
Beelzebub nodded in return, “Deal,” He chuckled slightly before returning to button up the jacket. It was difficult to ignore how close he was to you. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he struggled to clasp one particularly unruly button, and they immediately relaxed once he did so.
When he finished with the very last button near your neck, you leaned forward to peck a small kiss on his forehead. He stood up, stumbling backward slightly. Beelzebub's cheeks were dusted with a light pink, as he averted his gaze.
He smiled, "I wasn't expecting that," Beelzebub said, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment, "but it made me happy."
"I'm glad," you laughed, and held out your hand, "Now, shall we get going?"
Beelzebub nodded and took your outstretched hand. His fingers intertwined within your own, almost as though they were meant to be there from the very start. You squeezed your hand and, in response, Beelzebub squeezed back gently. He dragged his thumb over your knuckles for a brief moment before the both of you started the trek back to the House of Lamentation.
The snow underneath you crunched with each step, and you could hear the distant shouts of other snowboarders as you two walked further and further away. The little sliver of moonlight that managed to shine through the clouds was reflected across the pale white snow, creating a little bit of glare. Although you had a few grievances with the fact that it was constantly dark in the Devildom when you first arrived, even you had to admit that this scene was quite pretty.
The cold air nipped at your ears, and you instinctively pulled the hood over your head. After a few moments, snow flurries started to flutter down. It wasn't enough to be fully considered "snowing," but a sense of joy radiated in your chest, nonetheless.
You caught a snowflake in the palm of your hand, where it immediately melted upon contact. As you attempted to catch another one, you said, "I love the snow." When you didn’t hear an immediate response, you looked over at Beelzebub to see him trying to catch as many snowflakes as he could on his tongue.
Chuckling slightly, you also attempted to catch a snowflake on your tongue, but he responded to your previous statement before you could.
“I like the snow, too.” Beelzebub stopped trying to catch any more snowflakes, “It’s fun to snowboard over the mountains.” he gestured towards the snowboard that he was holding in his free arm, “Speaking of which, would you like to snowboard with me someday? I could teach you if you don’t know how.”
“I’d love that, Beel, but are you sure you won’t get distracted?”
“What do you mean?”
You couldn’t help but tease the demon a little, “I mean, I did see you wipe out a couple of times out there earlier, which isn’t like you, at all.”
“Oh...yeah,” Beelzebub’s face turned a rosy color, which could have been easily blamed on the chilly wind, but you knew better, “I promise I won’t get distracted next time, but it’s nice.” You felt his grip on your hand tighten ever so slightly.
“What is?”
“To see you there. It’s a little embarrassing having you watch and cheer for me, but it makes me feel warm inside.”
You brought his hand up to your lips, giving it a quick peck. He was still wearing gloves, so you doubted that he could feel the gesture, but it was the only place you could conceivably kiss him at the moment, “That’s sweet. I’ll be sure to cheer you on from the side-lines more often,” you playfully winked.
“Yeah, but I think I like this better,” he smiled his usual crooked smile, “I like being closer to you.” He explained when you offered another confused look. Beelzebub wasn’t typically the most expressive of his brothers. That’s just how he operated, but his verbal affections had a way of thawing your own heart.
You groaned, hiding your face behind your free hand, “Stop saying such sweet things,” Beelzebub glanced at you curiously, “Now you’re making me embarrassed.”
He said, “Ah, sorry, but it’s true.”
Before you had time to respond, the House of Lamentation came into view. Despite the rest of the area being covered in many inches of snow, the mansion itself remained relatively clean. You were certain that Lucifer and his spells (or even his curses) had something to do with that.
Thankful for the distraction, you muttered, “Oh, hey, we’re here.”
“That was quick.”
The two of you walk through the already opened gate and up the path towards the entrance. “Yeah,” you agreed, “but I can’t wait to get inside and relax in front of the fireplace to warm up.” As Beelzebub opened the door for you, you asked him, “Would you like to join me?”
He smiled and placed his hand against the small of your back to usher you inside, “Of course, I would.”
Upon entering the foyer, Beelzebub closed the door, and you took a moment to relish in the comforting warmth that blanketed you. You hadn’t realized just how cold your fingers and ears were until you were basking under the magic that was indoor heating. Next to you, Beelzebub had laid his snowboard against the wall and was already taking off his hat and gloves to place on the clothes tree in the corner. You followed suit, putting your snow-covered garments next to his, leaving you in a simple black turtleneck sweater and similarly styled pants.
Beelzebub jolted his head up and started sniffing the air, while you were in the middle of untying your boots. “What is it?” you asked, placing your shoes next to the door. Lucifer would probably murder you for trekking snow within the house.
“Something smells good,” Beelzebub trailed off, sniffing the air a couple more times for good measure, “Really good.” He concluded.
You also sniffed the air, but you couldn’t smell a single thing, “Really?” Then again, you had to admit that Beelzebub did have a knack for searching out food if that was the source of the scent. A couple of weeks ago, he had managed to find your secret stash of human world snacks that you had hidden in your pillowcase…that was locked in a chest…and was put into the underground tomb with Cerberus.
“...It’s coming from the kitchen. Let’s go,” He grabbed your hand and started walking, dragging you with him.
You let out a quick yelp as you tripped over your feet a couple of times before finally gaining your footing. A few moments later Beelzebub stopped suddenly, causing you to collide into his back. Slowly, you peeled yourself off of him, rubbing your injured nose to ease the pain. Beelzebub must have been too blindsided by the prospect of a meal because he barely acknowledged you before stepping into the kitchen.
“Hey, Asmo.”
Asmodeus was in there? You followed behind the larger demon to see that he was right. The Avatar of Lust was standing next to the kitchen counter wearing a frilly pink apron over his usual outfit and a matching chef’s hat. In front of him laid several cooking ingredients and tools that seemed oddly…familiar, nothing like what you’d normally see in the Devildom. Asmodeus seemed so concentrated on beating a brown-doughy type substance (that was, now that you think about it, probably…dough) with a hand mixer that he barely noticed you and Beelzebub come in.
Beelzebub turned towards you, “I don’t think he heard me over the sound of that,” he hesitated for a moment, “thing.”
You silently agreed with him. That hand mixer was just a tad too loud, and you wondered where Asmodeus had gotten it in the first place.
“Hey, Asmo!” you repeated Beelzebub’s words, hoping to get a better result, “What’s up?”
Upon hearing his name (for the second time), Asmodeus perked up and stopped the hand mixer. When he laid his eyes on you, his face brightened into another one of his (literal) award-winning smiles, “Hello, you two! When did you get here?”
“Probably about five minutes ago,” you responded, “Where’s everybody else?” The House of Lamentation was noticeably quiet. Usually, you would have been bombarded by Mammon’s schemes to get rich quick or Satan’s ideas of how to finally get back at Lucifer.
Asmodeus’ eyes flicked up in thought for a moment before going back to the dish he was preparing. As he was working, he answered, “Oh, you know, they’re all out of the house,” Asmodeus said absentmindedly as he took the dough out from the bowl and placed it onto the kitchen counter with a satisfying plop, “Lucifer is in a meeting with Lord Diavolo, Mammon and Satan are at some low-end party, I have no idea where Belphie is, and Levi is, as always, shut inside his room.” He started to roll the dough into a ball.
“Ah, that probably explains why the gate was open earlier.”
Asmodeus spared a glance in your direction before going back to the dough. He rolled his eyes, “Ugh, that was probably Mammon. He came back inside to get his dopey credit card and was the last to leave.”
While you and Asmodeus were conversing with each other, Beelzebub was salivating at the mouth. His eyes were glued to the dough in his brother’s hands, but he waited until there was a lull in the conversation before butting in.
Beelzebub asked, “What’re you making, exactly? I haven’t seen anything like that before.” He pointed towards the kitchen counter, indicating the dough that was strewn on the counter. His stomach growled.
“Why I’m so glad you asked, Beel!” judging by the quick upturn of his lips, Asmodeus had probably been dying to talk about himself all day, “I’m making gingerbread cookies! I wanted it to be a surprise for everyone when they got back, but that didn’t work out, did it? It’s fine, though.”
“What are–”
Overcome with visible excitement, Asmodeus interrupted Beelzebub before he could finish his question, “Apparently, some parts of the human world eat these cookies as a treat during this time of year. Solomon told me aaaall about it, and I was so excited that I made him go out and get the necessary ingredients for me,” Asmodeus paused, as his bright smile slipped for a brief second, “He also wanted to help me bake them, but I respectfully declined.”
All three of you shuddered in solidarity for Solomon’s awful cooking. You knew that if that sorcerer were to chip in and help out, then the gingerbread cookies would probably turn out radioactive–or something worse. Beelzebub’s stomach growled again, ending the moment of silence. “May I have some? It smells really good.” He stepped just a smidge closer to Asmodeus and, in turn, the dough. You tried to tug on the hem of his sweater to try to ward Beelzebub from swiping some of Asmodeus’ work, but he ignored you and stepped even closer.
Asmodeus made a face, “Beel, it’s dough. It doesn’t have a sme–hey!” Beelzebub reached over and was about to grab some of the ‘food’ when Asmodeus, thinking quickly on his feet, snatched a nearby spoon and whacked the hungry demon on the back of his hand, “No touching!”
Beelzebub stepped back in shock and snatched his hand back. He rubbed this injured extremity, “Hey, that hurt.” His lower lip quivered. You knew that it wasn’t from any physical pain that Asmodeus may have caused but rather the pain of being denied food.
Now, it was your turn to step in and mediate the situation before it could get any worse. You cut in between the two bickering demons and took the spoon right out of Asmodeus’ hand, “Don’t hit him, Asmo.”
In response, Asmodeus’ face flushed a faint pink, “Oh, you know how I love it when you’re bold like that, Jordan,” his brief expression of…whatever that was…was gone as quickly as it had arrived. Asmodeus looked annoyed before he huffed, “but would you please be a dear and get him out of here?” he pointed towards the door, “At least until I’m done, and then he can have all of the gingerbread cookies that he wants.”
You sighed, glad to have diffused the situation before it had started. You turned toward Beelzebub and asked, “Anything you want to do while we wait?” as the two of you exited the kitchen. You heard Asmodeus’ muffled “thank you!” behind the closed doors.
Beelzebub scratched the back of his head, while he thought about what he had wanted to do. “I think,” he said after some time, “I think I want to sit next to the fireplace with you. You mentioned wanting to do that earlier.”
“Sounds good,” you agreed and held his hand for a moment, giving it a reassuring squeeze, “Why don’t you get the fire started in the living room, while I go grab us a blanket?” Beelzebub nodded in agreement, and both of you went to complete your respective tasks.
When you arrived in the living room with a blanket (from your bedroom) in tow, you saw that Beelzebub had already lit the fireplace and was holding two mugs.
“What’s that?” you asked, as you sat in front of the fire and draped the blanket over your shoulders. You tapped the space on your right, and Beelzebub sat down. He handed you one of the mugs before pulling the blanket over his shoulder. Admittedly, the height difference made sharing the same blanket slightly more difficult than it should have been, but you guys made it work after a couple of seconds of awkward shuffling.
Finally, you took the chance to look into the mug. “Oh, hot chocolate!” you exclaimed, bringing the hot drink up to your lips. It scorched your tongue, but the drink itself tasted great, which was exactly what you needed on a snowy, winter’s day.
Beelzebub laughed and gave an uncharacteristically tentative sip himself, “Asmo came by earlier and gave me hot chocolate.” He took another, longer sip, “He said it was to tide me over before the gingerbread cookies were done. I didn’t want to drink it without you, so I waited.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” you sympathized, reaching up to pet Beelzebub on the head, “You must be starving.”
He closed his eyes and nodded vigorously. Beelzebub then snuggled closer to you, resting his head on top of yours. “I am,” he whispered.
“I can get you a snack, you know? It might be a while before the cookies are done.”
“No, I want to wait until I can eat with you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I am. I want to enjoy this moment together.”
You didn’t respond. Instead, you opted to lean your head against his arm. He shifted himself to wrap his arm around your body in a half-hug position. You sipped the hot chocolate while listening to the ambient sounds of the fireplace crackling. Beelzebub’s body heat combined with the blanket, hot chocolate, and fire all served to make you the warmest and most comfortable you have ever been. You probably would have forgotten all about the snow if it weren’t for the snowfall right outside of the window. The flurries seemed to have picked up, as the snow was falling much quicker, now.
“I never had human world gingerbread cookies before. Are they good?”
Beelzebub’s voice cut through the silence. You didn’t answer right away, as you stared into your drink in bliss. Slowly, you nodded, “I think you’ll enjoy it.”
Beelzebub hummed, letting the room fall into silence once again before opening his mouth to say something else, “I like being alone with you like this.”
“I do, too.” You closed your eyes, feeling a sense of drowsiness wash over you.
Beelzebub yawned, and you surmised that he must be feeling the same way, “I’m sorry, but I’m getting a little sleepy. You’re just so warm and,” Beelzebub yawned again, “and so sweet.”
You guessed that he was feeling hazy from drowsiness and didn’t mean to add that last part in there, but you still appreciated it all the same. You stifled a yawn of your own, and placed the half-empty mug down on the floor in front of you, “That’s okay. You can sleep. It might make waiting easier.”
—
“Wake up, sleepyheads!”
You jolted awake, only to be immobilized by a certain weight on top of you. It took you a brief burst of adrenaline to remember that the mysterious weight was indeed Beelzebub. The demon in question groaned and sat up, freeing you from your momentary prison. The fire was still going, so you two couldn’t have been out for that long. The blanket was on the floor, now, though. It must have slipped off while you were sleeping. You haphazardly tried to drape it back on, but that proved difficult without Beelzebub’s aid.
Giving up, you gazed up towards the sound of the voice. You saw Asmodeus peering down at you. He was still wearing his apron and hat, but this time he was holding a tray.
“Did you have a nice nap?” he giggled.
Beelzebub rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, “We did. Thank you for the hot chocolate, by the way.” You echoed Beelzebub’s gratitude.
Asmodeus puffed up at the thanks, “Oh, no need to thank me, unless you want to, that is.”
“You’re starting to sound like Mammon,” feeling a little playful, you teased him.
He stuck his tongue out at you and pouted, “Seriously, I slave away in the kitchen and this is the thanks I get? Maybe I should take my cookies elsewhere,” Asmodeus huffed and turned away, “Such a shame. They were so good, too.”
Beelzebub looked so heartbroken for a moment that you had to put on the breaks. “Wait, wait, wait!” you laughed and reached out to grab his ankle, “I’m sorry! Don’t go!”
“At least leave the cookies,” Beelzebub desolately responded. These were the words of a broken man.
“Fine, fine, but only because I can never resist that face of yours, Jordan,” Asmodeus acquiesced. You didn’t have the time to ask what sort of face you were making when he handed you and Beelzebub a gingerbread cookie each, “Do you like them? I designed these myself.”
You held a cookie that looked suspiciously like a particular demon you knew. It had black, icing-covered horns attached to the head and white fly-shaped wings attached to the sides. Orange icing decorated the top of its head, and black, gray, and white icing covered the rest of its body in an attempt at mimicking leather clothing. Looking over at the cookie in Beelzebub’s hands, you noticed that his gingerbread cookie looked a lot like you. The icing design matched the clothes you were currently wearing, alongside your eye color and other minute details.
You turned the cookie back and forth to admire the amount of work and effort that was put into it, “Wow, Asmo, this is so detailed and amazing. You must have put a lot of thought into decorating it,” A small part of you felt like this gingerbread cookie looked too nice to be eaten.
“It smells great, too,” Beelzebub added. He was staring at the cookie intently, and you could tell that it was taking every bit of internal strength Beelzebub had not to chomp down on the treat right then and there.
Eager to have received another compliment, Asmodeus bounced up on down on heels, “Aw, thank you! I wanted this batch to be absolutely perfect when–”
“But…” Beelzebub muttered underneath his breath. He hadn’t meant to interrupt, but Asmodeus had stopped speaking anyway.
“But…?” he urged him to continue.
“But we only get one?” Beelzebub looked up at Asmodeus with the best puppy dog look he could muster. He even slipped the blanket back on for full effect.
Asmodeus grumped, “Yes, you only get one. Lucifer and the others haven’t arrived, yet, so I want to wait until everybody can eat my cookies.”
You decided to help Beelzebub out as a good deed, “I understand where you’re coming from, Asmo, I really do,” you played with the corner of the blanket, “But Beel has been waiting for quite a while. Would it be so bad if he just had a couple more? Please?”
Beelzebub repeated, “Please?” with an elongated “e” for full effect.
Asmodeus frowned as he glanced from Beelzebub to you to Beelzebub to back to you. A small bead of sweat formed on his forehead, and you can tell his resolve was breaking. His frown wobbled until he shouted, “Fine! I’ll get you a couple more gingerbread cookies, Beel, but that’s it!” You and Beelzebub cheered, as he walked toward the kitchen.
“Thanks, Asmo! I love you!” Beelzebub shouted with glee.
Asmodeus shouted back, “Ooh, Beel! I love you, too!!”
You laughed at the absurdity of it all.
“Hey, Beel,” you said, grabbing his attention, “Ready to try the gingerbread cookies?”
He eagerly nodded before a look of concern flashed across his face, “I was, but it’s a little weird to be eating something that looks just like you, Jordan.”
“Oh,” you said, genuinely caught off guard, “If you want, we could switch or…”
“Too late,” Beelzebub said, revealing an empty hand.
You blinked in awe before shouting, “That was quick!” What kind of sleight of hand was that? You didn’t even see him put the thing in his mouth.
“Yeah, but it was good.” Beelzebub gestured towards your cookie, “Now try yours.”
He didn’t need to tell you twice. You slowly bit off the head and chewed. The cookie tasted as good as it looked, which was saying something. You bit off another piece, letting the taste of ginger explode in your mouth. “Wow,” you said after you swallowed the second bite, “Asmo’s surprisingly good at baking.”
“I know. Do you think he’ll bake for us next time?”
"Maybe…he definitely seems to like it.”
Beelzebub glanced at your lips for a split second before looking back at you in the eyes. The term ‘looking,’ would, perhaps, be too light of a word to use. Judging by the way he sat there unblinking, ‘staring straight into your soul’ would have been slightly more appropriate.
“What?” you asked, slightly unnerved by the way he was staring.
“I really want to kiss you right now.”
Wordlessly, you leaned in, giving him a quick peck on the lips.
Beelzebub fidgeted in place, a soft pink blush appeared on his cheeks, which perfectly complemented the orange lighting the flames cast on him, “Could you kiss me again?”
You chucked briefly before giving him another, deeper kiss.
He sighed before draping his arm around you again, “I love you,” he whispered into your ear, his voice almost completely masked by the sounds of the flames licking the sides of the fireplace.
“I love you, too,” you responded, turning your head to kiss Beelzebub on the cheek.