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“Henchman?”
The purple demon lightly snored away. His boss had such a luxurious bed. It was almost a wonder the Devil ever got out of it at all.
“Henchman.”
Though, in fairness, they’d only formally begun sharing a bed five days ago. It was still so surreal that he actually got to fall asleep beside the one he loved more than anything.
“Henchman!”
A familiar calloused paw settled itself on his shoulder. It wasn’t painful, but it was firm. Wait, was something wrong?
“Henchman, wake up!” the Devil yell-whispered, evenly shaking his partner’s shoulder.
Henchman grumbled as he was finally shaken awake. He blearily opened his eyes to see the Devil propped up on an elbow and looking at him with a strange urgency in his eyes. His frilly pink sleep mask was pushed up onto his forehead and there was zero trace of sleepiness in his face.
The shorter demon blinked in confusion. He normally loved waking up next to the Devil and having his boss’s voice be the first thing he heard in the morning. Now, however, not only was it very much still nighttime (at least, it certainly felt that way; truth be told it was very difficult to tell for certain in the Underworld), but there was nothing comforting about the inexplicable alarm in Old Scratch’s face and voice, especially when there were no immediate visual clues as to what was wrong.
“Dah, what is it, Boss?” he yawned. Despite the vague impression of something being off, Henchman couldn’t keep the drowsiness from his own voice.
The Devil stared at him for a second, then reeled back, and inhaled deeply through his mouth before his answer came out in one continuous breath:
“So I know this is a bad time because it’s the middle of the night and I’m probably an idiot for only thinking of this three months into our relationship but I have a question well actually probably several questions and I need you to answer them now or I might not be able to sleep.”
That woke Henchman up.
“Dah, okay. Duhh…whaddaya wanna know?”
The Devil took his hand away from Henchman’s shoulder and began fidgeting with both of his hands as he glanced to the side, apparently trying to think of how best to phrase it.
“So,” he finally said, glancing back at his boyfriend, “remember when we officially got together?”
Henchman smiled. Of course he did. It was one of his happiest memories so far.
“And I asked you how long you’d felt this way?”
And just like that the smile vanished.
“And you didn’t really give me an answer, you just said it was a while, and I let it slide and withdrew the question because you were clearly uncomfortable and I didn’t want to make things worse than they needed to be?”
Henchman began squirming, unable to look him in the eye.
“And…remember when you talked to me right after we were all cast out?”
Aw, geez, Boss, that far back?!? Henchman mentally screamed, grinding his teeth in discomfort and practically shaking now.
“And you said you joined the rebellion because you felt like you couldn’t have what you wanted and like you weren’t even allowed to want it?”
No, no, no, Boss, please don’t ask what I think you’re gonna ask…!
“And…well, I’d wanted to ask what it was you’d wanted, but I figured that was a bit too personal of a question when we barely knew each other. But, Henchman…”
He forced himself to look back at his boyfriend at the sound of his name. The Devil was looking at him with a mix of concern and disbelief. It was all the shorter demon could do not to bury his face in his hands and give himself away completely.
“…you didn’t join the rebellion because of me, did you?”
Henchman said nothing. He continued staring and didn’t break eye contact once as he grabbed the edge of their blanket and suddenly yanked it over his head to hide himself, even though he knew very well that it would still tell his boss everything he needed to know.
“Henchman!” the Devil cried out, aghast.
Henchman still didn’t answer.
“That long?!”
Maybe if he made himself as small as possible, his boss would drop the subject.
It was to no avail. He felt the blanket getting peeled away from his head and glanced back up at his boyfriend in defeat. The Devil was looking at him very intently, still with that same mix of concern and disbelief, but now with something resembling heartbreak for good measure.
“Why did you never say anything?”
Henchman looked away again as he inelegantly muttered, “Duh, er, uhh—”
He was suddenly cut off by his boss wrapping his arms around him and pulling him in to bury his face in his furry chest. After a second or two, Henchman let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and gratefully returned the embrace. Old Scratch didn’t pull that comfort move very much, but – for Henchman’s sake – it was one that they had both quickly become immensely thankful for. It served the dual purpose of hiding the shorter demon’s face when he clearly didn’t want to be seen, and putting him right next to both the Devil’s soft (and, at night, usually very clean-smelling) fur and the soothing sound of his boyfriend’s heartbeat.
But in this instance, it didn’t make Henchman less embarrassed. Two eons of partnership, three months into this relationship, and yet on being reminded of when he’d first developed that initial crush, he was suddenly like a young mortal teenager wishing he could disappear.
The Devil simply stroked the back of his Henchman’s head with his thumb as he mumbled, “All this time, all this time and you never said anything, never told me—”
He suddenly froze and grabbed Henchman by the shoulders, pulling away to stare into his eyes with a renewed panic.
“Is that why you were nervous about talking to me before?!”
Again, Henchman didn’t respond with words. Instead, he stared at his boyfriend in discomfort for a second before reaching forward and silently burying his face in his chest again.
“Ohhh, Henchman!”
The shorter demon gave a small, pathetic whine as his boss wrapped his arms around him again.
“Oh, wow,” the Devil continued. “Wow, just… I am one blind idiot.”
Henchman snuggled in closer, trying to cover his agreement with support.
“All that time just looking at me and never talking to me and I just…didn’t think anything of it.”
“I’m still so sorry for that, Boss,” Henchman mumbled into Old Scratch’s chest.
“I told you before, darling, don’t be.” The purple demon could hear the smile in his voice. “Don’t be, I told you I wasn’t creeped out, if anything I was flattered.”
“I still don’t— How?”
Genuinely, how? He didn’t get it when they were originally cast out and he didn’t get it now. How did one notice that they were being spied on and not get even a little suspicious?
The Devil’s chest shook a bit with laughter at that. “I honestly thought you just liked looking at me,” he admitted sheepishly, a touch of embarrassment of his own in his voice. “I mean— does a sunset take offense to an admiring gaze? Does a finely-cut precious gem? Does a starry sky take issue with being appreciatively looked at?”
Henchman pulled back just enough to turn his face towards his boss’s, giving him a disapproving look. Even if the adoration in his eyes gave him butterflies, it was still his job to keep the Devil’s emotions from clouding his judgement and actions.
“I don’t think any of those things are sentient, Boss.”
The Devil snorted at that. “You know what I mean,” he went on, pulling his boyfriend up so they were now face-to-face. “I never had a problem with you thinking I was pretty.” He let out another short laugh as he gave the ceiling a fond, reminiscing look. “Heck, Jophiel even said you were simply ‘admiring a work of art.’”
Just like that, the purple demon was as mortified now as he was two eons ago all over again.
“Jophiel knew?!”
The Devil whipped his head around to face him again, giving him an amused, yet very baffled smirk. This time he positively burst out laughing, moving his arms to hold his Henchman’s face in his hands.
“Henchman.” He had a mock-serious expression now as he gazed very intently into the shorter demon’s eyes. “Darling. You were really bad at hiding it, all of us knew. Well—except Michael, but he’s a dingbat, he can’t see anything that’s not a target. But believe me, your appreciation of the arts did not go unnoticed.”
He chuckled again, but Henchman could only bury his face in his hands.
“Hey, no, you got to stare at me for so long, I want to look at you now.”
Reluctantly, the purple demon complied, removing his hands to look at his boss once again. The Devil wore the softest expression he’d ever been able to muster, and he only mustered it for Henchman. When he leaned in to press their lips together, the former cherub gratefully kissed him back — but three months in and he could still hardly believe that he was allowed to kiss him at all.
He was getting used to it, though. Just the other day he had pleasantly surprised his boss by initiating it unprompted. It was probably the first time Old Scratch’s face had been publicly reddened from an innocent blush rather than fiery rage, even if his dark fur had mostly hid it.
The Devil pulled away, and Henchman had to ask:
“What did the others say?”
“Hm?”
“The others. Dah, Gabe, Raph, what did they say?”
He stared blankly at him for a second before glancing up towards the ceiling again, biting his lip in thought.
“Well…actually, let me set the stage first.” He nodded, more to himself than to Henchman, as he brought his gaze back to his boyfriend. “I noticed almost right away but I didn’t tell anyone. But Uriel was the next to notice; I was out with them and Azrael.” (Henchman fought back the urge to once again bury his face in his hands.) “And of course Uriel pointed you out to us and thought you wanted to talk to me. But they thought that you maybe couldn’t think of what to say.”
“Yep,” conceded Henchman.
“Azrael thought that was ridiculous at the time, but then Gabriel noticed and said the same thing Uriel did. Then Jophiel made her little ‘work of art’ comment, and…”
He glanced away, suddenly unable to look his partner in the eye, a guilty expression on his face.
“Boss?” Henchman asked nervously.
“…it…got a bit out of hand after that. But Raphael and I put a stop to it. It wasn’t fair to you.”
Henchman frowned but nodded in understanding. He probably didn’t want to know.
“Well—Azzie never completely stopped teasing me about it,” the Devil admitted, “but she’s our baby sister; it’s her job to be annoying.”
He glanced back to his purple bedmate, an apologetic smile on his lips. Then he gave another short laugh.
“You know,” he continued, “I bet the first time I kissed you, she probably got a nosebleed and had no idea why.”
Henchman couldn’t help but chuckle at that as the Devil placed a soft kiss on his nose. He frowned anxiously again, though, when something else occurred to him. “Uh, how do you think she’s gonna react, then, if she comes by anytime soon?”
“Oh I won’t hear the end of it the next time she and Raph come to visit, she was merciless.”
Henchman blinked. “You won’t hear the end of it?”
“Henchman, I’m not sure you understand how siblings work.” His amused smirk was very knowing this time. “We show affection for each other through gentle bullying, but that doesn’t apply to everyone else. She’ll give me grief for it, but I’m sure she’ll be thrilled and congratulate you.”
Henchman’s eyes widened. “Ya really think so?”
“I do. In fact, I’ve thought about it, and the more I look back, I honestly think she earnestly wanted us to get together.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes. Remember every time I got a new partner and she always seemed a little disappointed when I said who it was?”
Henchman stared. He’d actually never noticed.
“But she always wanted to know about you, remember? She definitely noticed, darling, and the more I think about it, the more I’m thinking that she was disappointed whenever I told her about my partners because she was upset that they weren’t you!” The Devil couldn’t keep the chuckle from his voice.
The purple demon looked away. He wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed or honored.
“I think once you started talking to me, you stopped being a joke to her.”
The Devil suddenly stopped, realizing what he’d just said, and looked away again, embarrassed.
“Sorry. That came out wrong. What I mean is…you earned her support when you started being brave.”
He looked back at Henchman and gave that same apologetic smile. This time, the former cherub smiled back.
“If that’s what you wanna call it, I think I can live with that,” said Henchman.
Another short chuckle from his boss, who then leaned in to place a gentle kiss to his forehead before pressing his own against the shorter demon’s. Henchman smiled in contentment. How lucky was he?
“…So, you really thought you weren’t allowed to want me?”
Henchman hid his face again. Boss, please, stop.
“Why?” the Devil asked with what sounded like genuine curiosity.
“Well isn’t it obvious?!” Henchman answered, uncovering his face with a look of severe discomfort. “I mean— you were an Archangel and now you’re King of the Underworld and I’m…me!”
“What’s so bad about being you?” asked the Devil, propping himself up on an elbow again to better consider his Henchman.
“Compared to you? Everything!” The shorter demon felt his eyes starting to water and rubbed at them, hoping his boss hadn’t noticed as he looked back at him pleadingly. “You’re just…so beautiful and powerful and I’m… I’m just a dumpy little servant. There was no way I actually had a chance with you, but…I couldn’t stop looking. And it still felt like I was out of line. I felt out of line every time you were in a relationship and I just couldn’t stop—”
He paused, rubbed his eyes again, and glanced back up at his bedmate. The Devil was giving him a look of concern again, but that didn’t stop him from gently taking hold of Henchman’s wrist and soothingly stroking the back of his hand with his thumb, wordlessly asking him to continue.
“…I just… You were always way out of my league is all.”
“Henchman, you don’t give yourself enough credit.”
“And I mean,” he went on as though his boss hadn’t said anything, “…what would I even say?”
“‘Hi, I think you’re cute, wanna grab lunch sometime?’”
“It’s not that easy, Boss!”
“It literally would have been that easy, I would not have said no.”
“You say that now, but—!”
“And it’s as true as it was two eons ago.” Old Scratch suddenly had a very stern look about him, needing his Henchman to understand. “I told you before, darling, you were always allowed to talk to me. In fact, I was waiting for you to talk to me. I couldn’t see what was stopping you.” He sighed and glanced away, ears drooping ever so slightly. “Raph kept telling me I should make the first move and I just kept ignoring him.”
“Aw, geez, I am so happy you didn’t,” Henchman blurted without thinking.
The Devil’s ears perked right back up in curiosity as he brought his gaze back his bedmate in confusion. (And slight offense, Henchman noticed.)
“Er – no, that came out wrong,” the purple demon fumbled. “I mean…I just— I would’ve been so scared and nervous if you had. I-I would not have known what to do or how to react.”
The Devil considered him for a moment before his gaze drifted down with something resembling regret.
“…Gabe said you didn’t like your voice, either,” he confessed, looking back to Henchman.
The former cherub shifted uncomfortably, unable to look his boyfriend in the eye. “…I still don’t like my voice,” he admitted.
“I like your voice. It’s friendly. Comforting.”
“It’s dopey.”
“It’s sweet. Just like you.” He gave Henchman’s nose a quick boop, and Henchman couldn’t help smiling at the gesture. “Besides, your actions mean far more than what your voice sounds like.” He brought the hand he was already holding up to his lips with a wink and a smile. “My darling.”
Henchman’s smile became that much more grateful. “Thanks, Boss,” he said, shifting to sit up.
He made to lean forward, but Old Scratch had apparently read his mind and excitedly threw his arms around the purple demon’s waist, pulling him in close until their bodies were flush against each other. Henchman couldn’t look upset even if he wanted to now, what with his boyfriend’s fur tickling his face as he happily nuzzled him. He could almost swear he even heard purring as the Devil finished by placing a few soft kisses to his cheek and once again pressing their foreheads together.
It truly was incredible how each expression of affection somehow made all those millions of years feel that much more worth it.
They lay there contented for a good moment before Old Scratch broke the silence again.
“…So what changed?”
“Hm?” Henchman opened his eyes to see the Devil looking at him with rapt curiosity. Their faces were mere centimeters apart, too, making the sight all the more alarming.
“What gave you the nerve to finally start talking to me?”
The shorter demon stayed silent for maybe half a minute, looking away from his boyfriend. The answer to that question wasn’t painful, but it was a little embarrassing.
“Duh, well,” he finally answered, forcing his gaze back, “…you did.”
The Devil pulled away a bit, taken aback. “Sorry?”
“It’s just…” Henchman fumbled a bit. How did he put this? “…The way you kept talkin’ about making things happen for ourselves, it…made me feel like I could muster up that nerve. In fact, I remember thinking, ‘When we win this, I’m gonna go finally talk to him.’ I mean…obviously we didn’t win, but…I guess some of that confidence still carried over even after we were all cast out. I mean—yeah I was scared for you, but…I also felt like I couldn’t waste my chance when I still felt like I could talk to you.”
The Devil blinked in astonishment.
“Good thing, too, eh?” Henchman finished with a sheepish grin.
For several seconds the Devil did nothing. Then he cupped his Henchman’s face in his paws and once again brought them both into a kiss, but this one lasted much longer than the first, to the point where Henchman eventually began grunting, not from pleasure, but rather discomfort at needing to breathe. When the Devil finally pulled away with a loud smeck! he pressed their foreheads together yet again as they both panted heavily.
“Henchman, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he muttered breathlessly.
The shorter demon opened his eyes enough to see his boss’s tail held high and curled into a heart shape in his peripheral vision.
Something still nagged at him, though. Something he was still having trouble coming to terms with even as his boss lavished him with affection and reassured him constantly.
“Boss?”
“Yes, darling?”
“…Do you love me?”
Old Scratch’s smile was gentle and his brow quirked in amusement as he answered: “Henchman, you’re my best friend. I don’t know if you noticed, but you’re literally one of the things I treasure most. Of course I love you.”
Henchman frowned and fidgeted, again unable to look him in the eye. “…But not the way I—”
He was cut off when the Devil’s paw automatically shifted to cover his mouth. Glancing back at his boyfriend, the purple demon saw that the Lord of Darkness’s mask of delight had immediately fallen away, replaced with a very pained expression and the saddest sympathy eyes he was capable of. Every time this question was brought up, Henchman was gradually understanding that just thinking about that sentence hurt the Devil just as much as it did him.
The Devil sighed. “Henchman,” he began, “that’s not your fault and I would love it if you stopped acting like it is. But I can’t help how I do or don’t feel any more than you can, and I’ve never felt toward anyone what you feel toward me. Not even any of my exes. Not even the ones I broke from on good terms. It just doesn’t happen for me. We went over this when we got together. It’s why I took such a long break from relationships.”
He took his paw away, and Henchman nodded in solemn awareness, not looking at him. It was, admittedly, getting easier to accept, but it was still strange. Even if his boss was making it increasingly unambiguous that he truly did love him and was willing to make their relationship work, having it come from a different kind of love wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind whenever he’d thought about a potential relationship — or their current one.
“Just know — and please don’t ever doubt this — that I do love you more than anything and I wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world,” the Devil finished with a soft smile, tenderly stroking his Henchman’s cheek.
Something mischievous flashed in his eyes, and he moved his paw to Henchman’s shoulder, slowly pushing him back until the chubby demon was lying on his back. The former cherub’s eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat as his boss proceeded to climb on top of him, tail swishing excitedly and eyes seeming to glow brighter than normal.
“Dah, Boss?” he choked out apprehensively.
The Devil grinned wickedly as he leaned down to get his face that much closer to Henchman’s. “And I” — he placed a small kiss on his Henchman’s cheek — “am going to make sure” — a quick kiss to his forehead — “that you feel loved” — his other cheek now — “all the time, no matter what it takes.” And finally, his mouth.
Henchman happily kissed him back, giggling and smiling when he pulled away despite himself. Alright, fine, he had to admit it: he did feel it. He felt it in the earnestness with which Old Scratch talked to him; he felt it in the adoring way he looked at him to make sure his Henchman was having a good time on their dates; he felt it in how eagerly he touched him, how tenderly he kissed him, how gently he would sometimes curl his tail around the shorter demon’s in lieu of holding hands. Even if it wasn’t strictly romance in the traditional sense, Henchman had to admit that he knew this was love, whatever that actually meant. He loved his boss more than anything, and, in a weird way, it was reciprocated. This was something he had long thought he could only ever dream of. But it was real. It was happening right now.
The Devil placed a few more smooches on Henchman’s cheek before easing up, sliding off the purple demon’s body back onto their mattress. He threw his arm around his boyfriend, pulling him in close again, and nuzzled affectionately into his neck.
One last kiss to Henchman’s temple and: “Good night, Henchman. I love you so much.”
Henchman did want to go back to sleep, but…
“Actually, uh…Boss?”
…but he’d truly thought his boss had been about to do something else when he’d climbed on top of him.
The Devil paused in the middle of pulling his sleep mask back over his eyes. “Yes, darling?”
“D’er, well, uh…” again he was fidgeting, unable to look his boyfriend in the eye. “…are you sure we’re not…going too slow for you?”
It was one more way Henchman felt inadequate. All of his boss’s previous relationships had gone much further than just cuddling and kissing by the end of the first month, and here he was three months in and still feeling unprepared to go that far.
“Henchman,” the Devil answered with uncharacteristic grimness, “what did we agree on?”
“D’er, uh…” Henchman sputtered. “That we’d take it at my speed?”
The Devil nodded, smiling. “And that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”
“But what if I never feel ready?”
“Then we won’t go that far.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with that?”
“I’m okay with any time I spend with you, no matter what we’re doing. It won’t make or break our relationship.”
Henchman blinked, then nodded vaguely. He really wanted to ask further, but he also really wanted to go to sleep.
“Duh, okay.”
“Thank you, Henchman. And seriously, don’t worry about it, darling.” He yawned, showing every single fang in his maw in gruesome detail. “Ugh, how about we get some sleep now?”
Henchman found himself yawning in return. The cursed things really were contagious. “Yeah. Sounds good, Boss.”
“Wonderful.” Another quick smooch to Henchman’s cheek and Old Scratch finally pulled his pink sleep mask back over his eyes. “Good night, Henchman.”
Henchman closed his eyes and snuggled further into his boss’s soft fur with a smile. “Night, Boss.”
“I love you.”
“Love you, too.”