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Somewhere, in the depths of a warm and fluffy cloud, a winged figure beheld another bearing horns. They tensed at first - for there had hardly ever been a moment where one wouldn’t see the other as a menace. As one eye met another, though, it wasn’t hard for them to cast off that philosophy. First words, then a touch, then a kiss… They would remember this moment, forever, as the moment they broke free from their constraints. The day the angel could truly fly, the day the demon could truly rebel. The day they’d finally find love…
Belphegor Soleri woke up on the cold floor of his room, near-blinded from the gloomy crimson light that pierced through the blinds. It was slowly that he sat up, groaning as he stretched - weakly grasping for the foggy remnants of his dream. The horn-bearing one was about to crawl back into bed, but a few knocks on the door whisked away any hopes of getting back to sleep. With a tired sigh, he bid his cozy bed a quick farewell. Trudging to answer, he gazed at the clock: an emotionless face told him it was half past one. He opened the door a crack, peering through only to be met with the sight of a man with burnt wings.
“Hello there, Belphy.” Lucifer’s familiar face seemed somehow more mature than last time Belphegor had seen him, and he as a whole seemed more composed. “I’m sorry for waking you - I honestly didn’t think you’d respond.” His voice, on the other hand, sounded a little sheepish. The goat demon found that a little ironic, to say the least. “But, uh… while you’re up, care to go out with us? I- Oh, yeah that’s right!” Lucifer perked up all of a sudden, and Belphegor swore he could see the gears turning in his head. “The angels are hosting a party, and I thought we could have a little fun with that.” A wicked grin spread across his face, one that the younger brother tried to emulate rather awkwardly. Belphegor’s gears were turning too, however. The little scraps he remembered of his dream involved an angel - and in his experience with inventing, dreams were great inspiration. For all he knew, life and love could be the same way.
That was how Belphegor found himself in the midst of a crowd of angels. He was surprised he hadn’t been noticed yet from his aura alone - but maybe Heaven had a lot of shut-ins too. In any case, he was surprised he hadn’t gotten more attention from his anti-social behavior and the two party hats covering up his horns. Most of the angels simply gave the goat-like demon a little nod and grin as they passed, and all of the demons in disguise gave him a knowing wink. He, however, tried to avoid meeting anyone’s gaze. If he had to meet one more angel and come up with some excuse to get away, he swore he’d go insane with embarrassment.
It was a good thing, then, that he ended up not wanting to get away.
Coming out from behind a corner, the caprine one almost ran directly into a face he felt like he knew somehow. A little yelp was all that could come clearly from his lips - all of his stammered apologies being not quite loud enough to hear over the party. Internally, he cursed himself - why now, of all times? Just because she looked like a constellation straight from the heavens doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be able to get away like with all the rest. It shouldn’t mean that he didn’t want to get away. Belphegor was trying to consider the ramifications of all of this, but found it getting harder and harder to think clearly with her good-natured smile dazzling him like that. He came back to his senses at the grounding feeling of her hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, relax, it’s going to be okay. Deep breaths - I’m guessing you’re not having a good time here either?” He nodded a little, despite himself. “Alright, hey- take my hand, alright? Just stay with me, I’ll get you away for a bit.” It took a bit of coaxing, but he eventually ended up with his fluttery, panicked mind anchored to the feeling of her hand in his. With all the care of a lifelong friend despite their unfamiliarity to each other, the angel guided him away from the party with some quick excuses to the other spirits that filled the room. Belphegor barely could keep from passing out from sheer embarrassment, so his mind didn’t register their travel up the stairs and onto the roof.
When he came to, he was sitting - leaning back against the balustrade of a balcony. The demon’s eyes registered the angel crouching before him with a concerned look on her face. It was all he could to wonder if he was dead and in heaven - before remembering his demonic status and the events of a few minutes before. For one blessed, blessed moment, they just remained there in silent intimacy.
And then she relieved him of his disguise.
Her hand gently moved to pluck the hats from his horns, clearly just thinking of it as an adorably odd sense of fashion - and though the goat-like demon attempted to stop her and reassure her, he didn’t do so fast enough. Her eyes widened suddenly, and he tried to stutter out excuses and explanations as the panic rose again in his breast. He couldn’t think of a way to get out of that situation, a way to fix it, a way to stop- Belphegor paused, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. His heart slowed, and when he opened his eyes he did so without a sense of urgency. He spoke, in a way that felt like the first time that night.
“I-I um- I’m Belphegor.” She nodded slowly, eyes still wide but not with panic. “I uh- Lucifer wanted to get me out of the house, so he decided to bring me here and have me meet people. We, we uhm- we aren’t here to hurt anyone, or do anything, we’re just here to have a good time.”
“I… I believe you. Don’t worry about it, Belphy.” A surge of rosy pink colored his cheeks at the sudden nickname. “My name is Urielle, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.” He breathed her name silently. He liked it. “And- and I know why you’re panicking. I can tell you’re not at parties too often - I don’t think he should have dropped you in the deep end like this, even if he is your brother.” He felt lighter already, but it might have just been the lack of party hats. “You know, Michael’s the same way with me. He’s very intent on getting me into public situations. He means well, I just wish he’d be more gradual about it.”
“Urielle - Uri - I’m glad you feel the way I do about this. And I’m glad you believe me, and glad we met, and glad-” His rambling was silenced suddenly by her fingertip on his lips. His eyes met her, and her smile told him all he needed to know. That she was alright with what had happened. That she was alright with what would happen. That she was alright with him - now and forevermore. Belphegor registered at first her hand moving to cup his cheek, and then her lips meeting his. The world seemed to explode into vibrance at that, and as the poor demon’s heartbeat reached a higher speed than ever before he swore he could feel her soul.
“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?” Lucifer slammed open the door to the roof with wide eyes. The two looked up in surprise, and the look on the fallen angel’s face was priceless. All three were trying to recover after that though, breath spent either in surprising the most distant of birds or in exploring the depths of passion. All three were entirely shocked by the events that had just occurred, and had all figured that another surprise would lead to a heart attack or four. Good thing such afflictions are not fatal to spirits.
“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?” Michael barrelled into Lucifer and out the door, sending them both crashing to the floor. Another soul worried, traumatized, and in fact rather angry. Another priceless expression, for better or worse - and as Michael attempted to scramble to his feet he found himself too tangled up in Lucifer to move. For another brief, precious moment, no one managed to get out any words due to the awkwardness hanging in the air like a blanket of fog. After a moment, though, during which Belphegor and Urielle shifted into a sitting position against the balcony, both of their siblings spoke at once.
“What on Earth are you doing with them?”
The collective anger on both of their faces wasn’t necessarily malicious - merely a protective sort of anger, formed from the wish to protect their sibling. Of note is the fact that the purest types of anger are the easiest to convince for the better. The easiest to talk down, to call off, especially by those who it was made to protect. Neither the kind angel nor the shy demon had the words to talk it down at the moment, but they had something else. As they looked at each other, a simple, single thought seemed to pass seamlessly from one mind to the other. They leaned in for another genuine kiss…
And to everyone there, it seemed as though everything would be alright.