Work Text:
“Thank you for inviting us, Lucifer! I just know it’s going to be fantastic!” Diavolo beams at him, Barbatos smiling serenely at his side.
Fantastically trying. No doubt Satan is already trying to hex his clothes, the suitcase they’re in, the train car, and anything else he could possibly thing of, while planning out some trap or cursed item to try and lay down in his room.
“I don’t recall inviting you,” Lucifer says diplomatically, “But your presence is welcome nonetheless. I merely hope my brothers don’t cause too much trouble.”
He had, of course, absolutely not invited him.
Father is surely watching over him, laughing, because that is a hope that has always gone in vain.
“Oh, I’m not worried at all!” Yes, Diavolo didn’t tend to. “This is going to be so much fun!”
Fun. For him, maybe.
The real point of interest for this trip would be whether Satan will work with Mammon or Belphie in order to prank him… either way, it would need to be dealt with in advance.
There’s a loud noise from the other cabin, and a distinct yelp he recognizes as belonging to Mammon.
He doesn’t even need to hear the specifics to know what’s going on. Satan saying Oi, Beel! and Belphie briefly waking from his nap, only to go back to sleep, Beel’s typical I’m sorry… I’m hungry while Levi goes Lol (what in the devil did that mean?) he actually ate the travel guide.
It’s Mammon’s fault, he can’t even hold it right, Asmo would say, which would naturally spark an argument –
And the commotion in the next car indicated that he was, predictably, infuriatingly, correct.
What’s worse, naturally, is that Diavolo can absolutely hear it. Barbatos pours tea for them both, careful and immaculate as always, even in a moving train car. The butler truly never did fail to impress.
“Thank you, Barbatos,” Lucifer says, in a vain attempt to detract from the surrounding noise.
“Yes, excellent work,” Diavolo gives him what he supposes is meant to be a secret sort of smile, “They sure are as lively as ever, aren’t they!”
Ugh. “I apologize. I’ll go tell them to quiet down right after this.”
“Nonsense!” Beaming widely, Diavolo takes a sip, and sets it back down perfectly against the glass. “I don’t mind in the slightest.”
He spares a glance at Barbatos, who to all the world looks unbothered, but only because he’s so used to it.
Lucifer doesn’t know how the butler does it. Day in and day out. Tolerating all this nonsense…
“Oh, look there – out the window!” Diavolo’s voice seems to boom with excitement, “It’s the Petrylgryphons! You don’t see those so close to the city!”
…It’s going to be a long trip.
It starts before he even leaves the train car. Impressive, actually, that Satan managed to do such a thing in so short a span of time.
The door is jammed, and any other person would simply attempt to wiggle the handle around until it opened. But Lucifer’s several thousand years to old not to know a curse when he feels one. It’s supposed to pour out some kind of toxic sludge, or perhaps simply non-removable (or worse, foul-smelling) paint, on its victim.
Hmph. What was Satan thinking? What if Diavolo had tried to open the door before Lucifer had?
“Lucifer? Is something wrong?”
“Not at all,” He calls back, working to unravel it as he pulls out his DDD.
>Lucifer: We’ve arrived. There were no issues on the way, I trust?
>Mammon: NOPE! None, not a one!
>Levi: LMAOOOO You know that only makes you look more suspicious, right?
>Mammon: SHADDUP! It’s true!
>Satan: Beel ate our travel guide. Does anyone have another?
>Beel: I’m hungry…
>Lucifer: Where’s Belphie? Is he still asleep?
>Asmo: Yup! He napped through the whole thing~ I wish I could have, too, so I didn’t have to see someone’s stupid face.
>Mammon: Quit callin’ me stupid!
>Lucifer: It sounds like your ride was uneventful. I found a curse on the door handle to my car.
It was obviously Satan’s work, but one of the others might tip their hand in the ensuing bickering.
>Levi: LOL so that’s what Satan was up to.
>Satan: Oh? It didn’t work?
>Lucifer: Unfortunately, I’m well versed in recognizing cursed objects. You’ll need to do a lot better if you want it to affect me.
>Beel: Can we get off now? I smell food.
In the interests of not losing Beel to snack stands in the station – or rather, losing all the snack stands in the station to Beel’s appetite – he cuts the conversation short there.
By the time they reach the inn, Lucifer is thoroughly exhausted.
The snack stands had suffered grievous losses. Beel had made a beeline for one of them, and because of it, Mammon had been stuck dragging Belphie out of the train car while Asmo wandered off.
Waiting a few moments for the food to be dispensed was apparently too difficult for Beel, who tore apart several stands in the process of gorging himself. Passerby backed away, frightened, and then cowered as he stalked the streets for another.
Honesty, it was a miracle that no passing pets or small animals had been devoured in the process. Satan had tried to hold him back at first, then decided the better option would be to go bring Beel some food, and it’s when Satan came back that they were able to subdue him.
The whole time, Asmo had been taking selfies, posting them to Devilgram… and subsequently starting rampant speculation, since Beel had been in the background of several of them.
Convincing him to take the pictures down (and delete them) had been a chore in itself, but at least the bribe was easy; one picture with him, big brother Lucifer, and Asmo agreed to it.
Asmo had, of course, wanted a picture of him at the hot springs, but he’d snapped a picture of himself while he was looking away, permitting himself a small smile as he pocketed his DDD. The devil’s in the details, as they say.
Diavolo knew how to behave, but wanted his opinion on just about every bauble and trinket they encountered. And stopped at every single stall to check them. It would have been tedious, but not unbearable, if it hadn’t been for Mammon sneaking in every time Lucifer wasn’t looking.
The fact that Mammon had actually tried to turn around with a cheap trinket and market it to Diavolo as a handcrafted talisman would have been impressive, if he weren’t trying to hoodwink the ruler of the Devildom.
Who had the power to tell when someone was lying. Then again, Mammon had never successfully lied to anyone at all, and he still made flimsy excuses every time he got caught, so perhaps it was just force of habit at this point.
Scamming the crown prince out of habit. What fantastic brothers he had.
They’d almost gotten out of the station by then, but Mammon had set Belphie down on a bench when he went to buy the trinket, and Belphie wasn’t there when Beel finally went back to pick him up.
Then they’d had to search for him. Satan made a whole fuss about the mystery of Belphie’s disappearance, but had noted a few clues as to where he’d gone, and after perhaps twenty minutes of searching they find him in a small clothing shop, underneath a rack of long, flowing dresses that block out the light.
And then, and only then, had they left the station for the inn.
“No fair, Lucifer!” Asmo whines, “You really are a demon!”
He’s a bit busy flicking his eyes towards the hall where the clothes he’s to change into are kept, waiting for Satan to walk by, but he’d known the answer as soon as he’d made the deal. “I sent you the picture already, Asmo.”
“I wanted one here! While we were ON our vacation! Luuuuuuuciiiifeeeeeer!”
Lucifer shifts, but the hot water is comfortable, enveloping him no matter how he moves. The steam is cleansing to breathe in, but he doesn’t lose track of where each of his brothers are.
Particularly Belphie. Beel was next to him, but he was eating. What if he fell asleep and slid under the water?
“Are you listening to me? Lucifer!”
No. “Of course not,” It’s Satan that says it, “He’s too good to listen to anyone.”
“My,” He allows himself a low purr, giving Satan a half-smile he knows the boy despises, “You think so very highly of me, Satan. I’m flattered.”
The water starts to bubble hotter, almost scalding; though to a demon, it’s just a pleasant rush of warmth.
“You’re impossible!”
Lucifer watches Satan as he stands up, glaring, and storms off, striding straight through the hall used as a dressing room.
He can tell by his pace that Satan hadn’t stopped while moving through, but from the angle, Lucifer couldn’t be entirely certain Satan hadn’t touched anything. In fact, he’d be
Mammon is leaning back to float in the water, and seems to be enjoying himself, at least until Asmo starts complaining about him getting in his selfie. The fact that Mammon says Asmo should be grateful to have a popular model like him in his selfies probably contributes to the argument that follows, but he’d seen it coming a mile away.
They could argue all they liked. He’d take a minute to himself. Belphie had fallen asleep already against Beel’s shoulder, and he’d notice if he feel into the water. Mammon could take care of himself.
Sounds of arguments and insults fade away as he leans back, never entirely closing his eyes – or his ears – but resting his weight on the well-heated stone behind him, basking in the sensation of the surrounding warmth.
The water bubbles, hot and soothing against the muscles in his back. He’d been sitting the whole time in that damned train car. And walking around at the station. And entertaining Diavolo. And lecturing all of these idiots – he’d have much more lecturing for them after this vacation…
It’s a while, or perhaps not that long, until he hears the water splash beside him – Levi is getting out first, it seems. He settles back in, rolls his shoulders a bit, and feels the heat begin to truly seep into his bones.
Around when Mammon leaves, he gets up, too. Providing, of course, absolutely no opportunities for photographs.
Not that it keeps his brother from trying, of course, but it’s entertaining enough to smack him on the head for the misdemeanor. Still, they’re on vacation, so, “I’ll let your behavior slide… for now.”
The threat produces the desired shudder and quick exit.
He chuckles to himself as he dispels another curse from his robe (almost certainly one meant to make it fall off at the worst moment).
It was the little things in life.
When Diavolo stops by, it’s at dinner – hardly a formal visit, and still, he’s ashamed to be so barely dressed.
“I have a surprise for you, Lucifer.” Diavolo says, and this time it’s absolutely a smile as if he thinks he’s sharing some personal secret. Fantastic.
“I don’t like surprises.” Comes his dry reply.
A laugh, “You’ll like this one, I promise!”
He lets it go, passing Diavolo one of the myriad side dishes and returning to his meal.
It’s only when he raises the cup to his lips that he notices it’s dry…
…except it isn’t.
Lucifer holds the shallow cup in front of himself, honey-colored liquid clearly sloshing within. He discreetly dips a finger in, and surprisingly enough, it’s completely dry. As if the water isn’t touching him at all.
Ah. He’d checked the bathrobe for curses – he hadn’t checked the towel. An excellent disguise for the curse, since he’d be using the towel to dry anyways. Quite inventive.
Inventive, but petty. It’s an annoying night, certainly, but not an unbearable one. His brothers have worked out most of their energy (particularly Satan, who obviously knows his curse has been effective), and have mellowed out – combined with Diavolo’s natural friendliness, it makes for a pleasant enough dinner.
Even if it’s far more casual than he’d like, they ask politely for one dish or condiment to be passed around. They say thank you and talk about how nice the springs were. Asmo complains about not getting a picture, Mammon mentions that it would have sold well, and Diavolo laughs.
Even Levi comes out of his shell a bit. Apparently he had shared his game with Satan while the two were on the train. TSL-themed.
For a moment he’s reminded of Simeon, but Beel’s voracious appetite – and the dishes that need to be regularly brought – as well as the idle chatter with his brothers and Diavolo keep his mind off it.
His brothers are behaving. They’re playing nice. Diavolo is having a good time. All is well.
He’ll dispel the curse as soon as he’s back in his room, and perhaps even enjoy the next full day they have at these facilities.
Even having a room to himself, it isn’t pleasant turning in.
From the beginning, there’d been something missing from the trip. Dealing with his brothers hadn’t worn him out like this in a long time – they weren’t always so unruly.
They hadn’t lately been so unruly. And the only thing that had changed lately…
The human isn’t here. You’re in your world, where you belong. Where Diavolo returned you.
Lucifer turns on his side, feeling the cool air rush under the blanket before he pulls it closer. It isn’t cold – Lucifer doesn’t feel the cold here, not since a very long time ago, and even if he did, his wings would keep him warm – but there’s an emptiness in his chest – in his bed. At his side.
His mouth is terribly dry.
…A drink of water wouldn’t be unusual to take during the night, would it? Bizarrely, the thought of Hell Coffee springs up in his mind, but it’s late, and he has every intention of actually returning to sleep, this time.
He opens the door as silently as he can, eyes flicking over the surroundings as he steps into the hall and makes his way down it.
There’s a noise that seems to grow louder as he walks.
It’s snoring. Beel is snoring.
He moves forwards, careful not to disturb them.
Lucifer quickly fills a plastic cup with water at the cooler. It seems to drizzle into the cup with agonizing slowness.
He brings the cup to his lips, but the stupid faucet on the cooler is longer than he realized and it snags on the edge of the cup coming up, spilling it everywhere.
Predictably, attempting to refill the cup yields only a smattering of droplets. Fantastic. He wouldn’t have put it past Satan to do this as well, but it might have been Levi that helped out this time, somehow. Water was, after all, his area of expertise.
He’s not certain how the day could be any more exhausting than this. Perhaps the only silver lining is that he can go straight through the hall, and collapse into bed.
Beel is still snoring, all the others fast asleep as he makes the trip back.
It’s awfully quiet in the hall. Suddenly, he doesn’t feel quite as tired anymore.
Perhaps…
Carefully, with precision and delicacy aimed entirely towards sliding the door soundlessly open, Lucifer enters the room.
The six of them are all laid out next to one another, on tatami mats, in two rows of three. Beel and Belphie’s mats are pressed up against one another, with Belphie snuggled up against his brother, their two blankets overlapping.
The sight brings a smile to his lips.
He bends down carefully, at the knees, gently brushing his hand over Beel’s hair. Lucifer’s heart nearly freezes in its chest as the snoring suddenly stops – but then Beel shifts closer to Belphie, and starts snoring again. Belphie is silent as a grave even as he passes his hand over the sleeping demon’s hair.
One by one, he goes through them. Asmo’s hair is silky and smooth, Mammon’s feels like a cloud, Levi’s is a touch greasy, and he makes a note to pick up some dry shampoo somewhere tomorrow. Levi must not have washed his hair – he always did prefer baths to showers, and he might not have been comfortable showering outside of home.
His hand hesitates over a head of bright hair like spun gold, pale in the moonlight spilling in from the window. His breaths are so calm and so slow Lucifer could almost believe they were measured, that Satan was only calculating when to suddenly “wake up” to make Lucifer look like the greatest fool…
He stands to leave, but his eyes linger on him until he leaves.
The trip to his own room from there is short and uneventful.
Upon his return, finally, Lucifer slides open his door without preamble.
He nearly jumps back at the surprise within. You’re standing there, right there, two crystal clear cups in either hand, looking utterly bewildered at his surprise, but only for a moment.
“Thirsty?” You ask him with a smile, lifting one hand up as you set the other glass on a bedside table.
When his arms envelop you suddenly, powerful body pressing up against you, you stumble back, careful not to spill anything.
“Whoa!” He feels you try to set the other cup down, “Be careful! Diavolo gave me a heads up, he said you didn’t have much to drink at dinner…”
“I adore you,” Lucifer says, and tries not to think about how you stiffen in obvious surprise at the statement, “So don’t say anyone’s name but mine.”
It’s already annoying enough to think that Diavolo had dragged you back here, as easily as he’d kept sending you back to the human world, even for a ‘surprise’… unless Solomon had been the one to do it again. Or you’d done it yourself.
What’s more annoying is that you chuckle at him, with a gentle, “I adore you, too,” and arms stroking over his back as you step with him, like you’re guiding a drunk. Ignoring his advances entirely.
High on exhaustion and the pure exhilaration of laying back on something again, suddenly reminded of his tiredness, Lucifer sits up against the pillow to glare.
“Drink some water, Lucifer.” Your voice is fond.
When you bring the water to his lips, patiently waiting for him to drink, his look loses its bite entirely. He tells himself it’s because you said his name.
The water over his lips is cool, refreshing, and by far the greatest thing he’s ever tasted. It’s as if it washes away all the tension in him, or perhaps that’s just your other hand massaging over him.
He has more to say to you. His brothers miss you. He misses you. They’re much better when you’re around, and he’s – it’s all so much easier. You bring them together so easily, diffuse fights right away. Today would have gone so much better if you’d been there the whole time.
You should stay with them. Just don’t leave. Not even if Diavolo asks. He’ll – he’ll talk to him, if he does. You’ll talk to him. You can stay with them.
You can’t leave this time. Please don’t leave him.
And maybe his father hasn’t abandoned him yet, because like his own personal miracle – you’re still there in the morning.