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It had been a noisy night, but there was food, so he didn't mind much of the disturbance outside.
Beelzebub settled on a seat he was all too familiar with and let himself rest on the spot he chose. His bag that weighed heavily on his shoulders sat next to him in a puddle-like formation, its cloth deformed under the blinking lights of the local restaurant. Beelzebub grabbed the bag to fix its position lightly, then turned back to the menu placed recently on his table. He didn't need to flip the pages anymore—the local restaurant served as his secondary home, and sometimes, he felt more at ease eating in the quiet sanctuary than when he was at home or at the university.
But enough of those thoughts. He raised his hands up to order, and settled back on tuning his attention to the bright shimmer of the wooden table he placed his elbows on. A peek at the innards of his bag only gave him distress—he had to eat first before he could focus.
He settled brewing in silence while darkness housed incomprehensible cacophony under starless skies. Beelzebub deserved to rest, didn't he? He already talked to Belphegor earlier before he left—his younger twin still had practice for the night, and Beelzebub still had to wake up early tomorrow so they reluctantly separated according to their routes. Unfortunately, there had been a party back at the house he and his brothers shared so now here he was, brooding an egg of confusing emptiness next to his bag.
He didn't believe in impatience, but now he wished his order could arrive now to keep his mind from wandering.
Beelzebub stretched his hands, cracking each knuckle and counting every pop that came. It was a mundane activity he could depend on, and as he occupied himself with bending every finger, a noise of an opened door breezed by his ears. Hurried steps, much like Mammon's when he walked upstairs, flew by his mind as he cocked his head to his right, where the restaurant's posters were located. And a too-fast, too-loud motion scraped by his senses when he massaged his eyes.
His consciousness only floated above the murky water of autopilot when someone slid a phone to where his menu once was. And before he could pinpoint where he saw violet nails before, the simple yet large layout of the text caught his attention.
'I'm cold. Please hug me.'
He involuntarily turned to the individual next to him, seeing the last person he expected to need help.
"Barbatos?"
A student who always followed their university student council's president, and a colleague whose food he always found scrumptious and delightful. Oceanic eyes that didn't reveal anything but emotions that were relevant for the situation. He always watched Barbatos from afar in their classes, never too near in case he offended the student by mistake. He found the ombre bang next to his face a charming aspect to him, and in bus stops, he sometimes dreamt about getting to tuck it behind his—
No, he didn't think that last part. As said, Barbatos was a diligent and independent student. And now, Beelzebub could only stare at a messy and shivering Barbatos who breathed too hard and too fast. He looked desperate, never a good look on someone, and Beelzebub feared that something might have happened.
A trembling hand gestured at the phone placed earlier, and Beelzebub took a few seconds to figure it out, feeling embarrassed. Oh. He nodded and opened his arms. He knew Barbatos—it was a strange request, but he accepted—
Oomph. He expected a formal and light hug, but Barbatos crashed carelessly into his arms, icy hands freezing against his back. Before they could launch all the way to the floor, Beelzebub stood away from his seat awkwardly and returned the hug. The grip had been tight and alarming—what happened?
"Did someone hurt you?" He felt a shake of his head. Barbatos' breathing now tempered to a more normal rate, so that was good.
"Is someone chasing you?" Another shake. Beelzebub knew less and less as he got more and more answers. Barbatos never acted like this, even towards Diavolo or Solomon, as far as he was aware. He embraced him as much as he could and patted his back.
"Is this related to the supernatural?" He knew it was a peculiar question, but he couldn't think of any rational explanation for Barbatos' strange behavior. And he didn't expect a nod, but he moved his head up and down.
Oh.
An awkward minute ticked on before Barbatos separated from him. He still looked like he had been run over by a car, but now a bit of color dusted his cheeks. Then, Barbatos grabbed his phone and typed something on it before he showed the screen to Beelzebub. So that was how they would be talking for the rest of the night.
'Thank you.' The white text read. 'Thank you. I am sorry for the disturbance. I had no choice. You were the closest one I could come to.'
Beelzebub shook his head and held up his hand to signify that it was not a problem. But now something itched at his curiosity.
"Do you need something else?"
'No. Thanks to you, I'm not cold anymore.' Barbatos was a quick typer so their conversation didn't lag that much. He nodded, and before he could offer Barbatos some food, the student sat on the chair and gestured for Beelzebub to follow. He sat, and next to his side, Barbatos stuck like glue.
Well.
"Are you fine with this position?" He had his arm over Barbatos' posture. "We look like a couple. Isn't Diavolo your boyfr—"
Barbatos snapped his phone upward. 'Diavolo isn't answering his phone. I'm sorry. If you don't want this, I can go away.'
Beelzebub swallowed a sigh down. He didn't answer his question. Nevertheless, he kept Barbatos close to him. He didn't have his jacket, so all they had was one another's warmth. Or, well, Beelzebub's warmth. Barbatos still felt cold against his skin. It was a wonder on what or who caused the student to lose an essential aspect of life, but the time tonight was not the right moment to ask questions.
Barbatos held his phone up again for Beelzebub to read, but not as snappy as earlier. 'I'm sorry for the inconvenience. The cold's still biting at my heart.'
"Maybe eat something in the meantime?" Beelzebub hugged him closer as he pointed at a stack of menus. "I can grab you one. The cook is busy in the kitchen. You can choose what you'd like."
Barbatos' eyes blinked multiple times before he came up with a response. 'I was in a rush. I don't have any money on me.'
"That's alright, food's on me." Goodness, he sounded like a doting boyfriend. He cringed internally at the words that came out—at the least, the restaurant's cook was famous for not asking questions or disturbing customers. Lady Luck blessed him once and left him with a heaping plate of trouble that gnawed at his emotions. Barbatos looked down as he processed the words, then he typed again.
'I'll repay you. Sorry.'
"I'm the one offering, you don't need to apologize." Beelzebub stood up, relief flooding in that he got space not occupied by an individual he secretly held affection for, then that was lost when coldness wrapped around his arm. He looked down only to see Barbatos with his phone's screen angled at him.
'Don't leave me. Hold my hand.'
What? Beelzebub sputtered, but he relented and grabbed a freezing hand. He ignored how his hand seemed to fit perfectly with Barbatos', long fingers intertwined with smaller ones. And he definitely didn't blush at the stray thought of Barbatos walking with him on the daily ride, peace raining on their path as their hands embraced each other.
No, no, no, focus on the mission. Beelzebub grabbed two menus by accident, knocking other menus when he placed it back, then he gave up when he realized that he couldn't fix the mess without his other hand. They both came back to their table, loosely guarded by his bag, and he gave the menu to Barbatos as they sat down on chairs that were too near to each other.
"Don't worry about the price." What was he saying? He wasn't rich! And he didn't have that much money on him. Still, he remembered that Barbatos was a thrifty one, often preferring the cheaper yet still top quality items compared to unnecessarily expensive ones. Plus, Barbatos was currently engaged in danger—telling him to order cheap could just induce worry in the poor student.
When Barbatos tapped him on his shoulder and pointed at his order, he was silently glad to see that the food was on the lower range of price. He could definitely order that with some money left for commuting. He murmured that he'll take care of it, then he shouted (not to be mean. The cook was in the kitchen, and time was tight) Barbatos' order to the abyssal void. After that, all they had to do was wait.
A minute went by.
...
Five minutes passed, and the tension between the two only grew thicker and thicker. Barbatos was typing something on his phone and, out of respect, Beelzebub didn't try to peep at what he was doing. It had been seven minutes and Barbatos was still typing like he was on a deadline.
Wow, the cook sure was taking their time.
"Barbatos." He stopped in an instant and looked over at Beelzebub. "Why me?"
Tired eyes switched from one table to another—Barbatos suddenly became interested in their surroundings. He clicked buttons on his phone for some time before he presented his response.
'Diavolo wasn't answering. Solomon is 2 buses away. Others live farther. The restaurant you visit is near the apartment I was in.'
"So you mean to say that—" Beelzebub held his hand tighter. "—you came, unsure that I was here?" Barbatos' expression fell, and he nodded slowly. "You gambled your life. Barbatos, you could've died."
He didn't wait for a reply. "Where was Diavolo? Why did he leave you?" No words. He shook his head, and his mouth opened and closed. He wasn't telling something, and Beelzebub suspected that he didn't plan on revealing it any time soon.
"Is Diavolo safe?"
The phone remained in trembling fingers and no fingertips touched the screen.
"Are you safe?"
The restaurant was quieter than the array of memories he kept of a cheerful cook who always greeted him and newcomers. Wait, what?
"Barbatos, why haven't you used your voice?"
And then the light fell.
Immediately, he grasped for his bag with the hand he left unattached to Barbatos, and Barbatos pulled him towards what he hoped was the exit. Beelzebub didn't have the privilege to feel a jump of fear or a bite of anguish—his soul froze in static alarm as his legs travelled over floor he once walked on in peace. Wherever they were, it was not the goddamn restaurant and Beelzebub didn't know how long he was blind to the enigmatic world that formed around him.
The restaurant he always visited wasn't a quiet place at all. It was—had been a warm home with aged regulars and a chatty owner. How did he end up in such an otherworldly place? Why didn't he ever think of questioning the surrounding environment?
What did he end up in?
Barbatos ran, pulling him along rather roughly for the ride. They traversed space Beelzebub didn't know even existed, and endless looping motions had him doubt the plane they were in. The stars died a long time ago, and each one disappeared in a flash and a huff until all they had was each other.
He crashed into Barbatos on the sparkling sidewalk pavement, sending both of their worlds stumbling and spinning until cement knocked out their minds.
---
"Shit, wake up. Come on, don't die on me."
Jesus fish on a stick, his head pounded and pulsed as he slowly woke up. He opened bleary eyes and saw a blurred image of water-colored strands. There was only one person he knew who had that style, and he groaned as he recalled the play of events before he got knocked out. The film of past occurrences shooting straight into his neurons did not help at all—it only melted over the already burnt pain he was feeling. He covered his eyes and hoped that whatever he touched wasn't blood.
But of course, Lady Luck hadn't been a pleasant lady at all, and it wasn't luck that he received. It was a mutated 5-leaf clover that bit his hand and ate his dreams.
But enough of that. He rose up with a million hammers pounding through his veins and he felt like losing consciousness again, just to never feel hell as he sat on his aching spine. Hands grabbed and guided his figure, and he slurred gratitude as he leaned on the individual who helped him.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry you got involved." No, Beelzebub didn't mind, but holy shit, everything felt too painful for him right now. "I'm afraid we can't access any hospitals as of the moment. We'll have to go back to the apartment." That meant standing up and walking. Beelzebub wasn't sure if he had the means to. Gravel and stone stuck to his skin and hair as deep sensations tore his feelings apart.
To his side, Barbatos sneaked in and placed Beelzebub's arm over his shoulders, placing an arm on his back in an attempt to carry him. Unfortunately, as expected, he failed miserably, and they only fell before Beelzebub could even feel an upward direction. His head didn't need any more juggling to go through, so when Barbatos tried again, he tightened his grip around his shoulders to stop him.
"I appreciate." His voice didn't feel as if it was a part of him. It sounded so blurred, like he was halfway underwater and it was drowning. "But don't. Pain."
Was that a whine from his companion? He wasn't sure anymore. He still hasn't even opened his eyes yet. His grip around Barbatos was not getting loose as he recovered his bearings. One by one, he picked up the marbles of awareness in his mind. He took deep breaths, ones that pushed apart the boundary of quick oxygen and, bit by bit, he could taste, hear, and feel again.
It was a debate as to whether he could still smell, as chilling winds invaded his senses. But he tried seeing, and after blinking routinely, the world didn't look so blurry and distant like his initial view. Beelzebub took the time to inspect that they were on the other end of the street, the once lively restaurant now a dilapidated mess of a rotting shack that he couldn't piece together anymore, not with the shadows that ate its details. He looked over to Barbatos and couldn't hold back a gasp upon seeing the condition he was in.
Blood streamed from his nose (oh gods, it was bent out of shape) and a red river streamed from a crack on his head. Like Beelzebub, dirt and gravel stained his jaw and the rest of his body. When he felt eyes concentrated on him, he looked at Beelzebub with curiosity gleaming in dead eyes that were only lighted by green stars at the bottom.
"Damn." The continuous stream did not look good at all. "You're bleeding."
"I am? Oh." He looked so disappointed in himself. "Embarrassing." Beelzebub couldn't hold it in anymore. He laughed, every bellow hurting his dry throat and his head, but he didn't care. He hugged Barbatos close to him without meaning to, and soon, he heard Barbatos laughing alongside him in a goofy tittering laugh.
"Oh, my god." He heard every cadence and realized that Barbatos was laughing so improperly and freely. It contrasted the usual low, deep chuckle he thought was his laugh. "Oh. Barbatos, is that you?" He turned his head and found himself eye to eye with the student.
"Ah." Barbatos smiled, bloody teeth showing, and turned away with shyness before confessing. "Yes. My actual laugh is not pleasant." He covered his mouth and leaned on Beelzebub. "I'm sorry."
"No, it's not not pleasant." He didn't care about proper grammar anymore. "It sounds good." Beelzebub couldn't help a grin that lifted his mouth. "You should laugh like that more." Barbatos looked shocked as he released those words, as if he couldn't believe what Beelzebub was saying. "I mean it. Your laugh's pretty."
"Well, thanks." Barbatos replied, bringing himself closer to Beelzebub's embrace and occupying his hands with fixing his uniform. As his hands gently mended the cloth, Beelzebub moved onto another topic. "So, why use your voice now?"
"Back at the restaurant." Barbatos' nimble fingers swept over his collarbone that popped out underneath his collar. "I sensed that an entity had taken control. You fell under its spell by entering its domain." His feather light touch reminded Beelzebub of a pillow's soft caress. "So I figured to get you out of there."
"So, was that coldness all an act?"
"What? No." He liked this. Beelzebub liked the casual turn their conversation spun as Barbatos fixed his tie. "I really was close to death. And—" A quick slide of the cloth. "—you were too. So we're even."
"Who said you owed me one for hugging you?"
"No one, I guess." A crooked smile with drooping eyes formed as Barbatos smoothed over his tie. His bloody wounds still looked like they needed medical attention, but for now, Beelzebub tuned in to his companionship. He suspected that he himself had head injuries too—all they had was each other. When their words died out naturally, both of them stood up with hazed visions under the lamplight.
"Now we walk." And Barbatos linked his hand with his, as if it was an action inherent to their newly formed bond. Beelzebub didn't dare question it, however—he grasped back, almost engulfing Barbatos' fingers with his own. The student laughed, and such a beautiful flawed laugh it was, and led them both to the watchful eye of the night.
The sidewalk was a solid mass of bricked wonders and aged history as they wandered through the endless landscape of swaying trees and moving lights. Beelzebub didn't recognize the paths or the streets anymore, but he trusted Barbatos to be leading them both to safety. He had his suspicions, but he locked them tight at the back of his mind as he felt the scarred skin of Barbatos. How nice it was to be close to someone he only watched from afar in the past. Had it been fate that intertwined their paths? As yellow light shone through dark leaves, and as lampposts flickered and died under branches that waved greetings to the wind, Beelzebub wondered if he truly was meant to be here, to be holding Barbatos' hand, and to be witnessing mundane majestic sights of the strangest surroundings.
All doubt vanished when Barbatos squeezed his hand, and when he looked back at Beelzebub to smile. His heart fell, and he could only follow and watch until they reached the apartment.
"So we're here." He fiddled with the door for a minute, a sound of small metal clashing against a rotting mechanism, and then finally, a room that didn't feel eerie or fantastical. Beelzebub followed Barbatos inside, the adrenalin wearing off as they settled in the safe place.
--
While Barbatos busied himself inside the bathroom, Beelzebub placed his bag on top of a cabinet, dust clinging to the cloth of the package. The pale yellow light from a nearby lamp, with its surface too cracked and too webbed, provided an atmospheric glow of comfort in the room.
"Hey, Beelzebub?"
Beelzebub turned, and like before, he didn't expect to meet a tight hug that almost tore his breath away. Barbatos wrapped his arms around his torso, holding onto him as if he had been his lifeline. This time, he didn't feel any coldness or abnormality from him. This time, Beelzebub knew that there was something different, something genuine in the hug. And this time, Barbatos spoke.
".. Thank you."
He pulled away, almost a bit too fast for Beelzebub's liking, and Barbatos bowed slightly towards his figure. Then, the student cleaned both of their injuries with not much of a word spoken between them. They understood each other through gestures and symbols, each one not lasting a second. Then Barbatos stored up the medical kit and carried it back to the bathroom.
When he came back, he sat on the bed next to Beelzebub. The frame creaked and gone was the blurred noise into the walls. There was no air conditioner, and it had been a warm night after the chilling grasp of near-death experience, so Barbatos awkwardly stood up and brought down a portable electric fan. Beelzebub watched him set it up. Then he had an idea.
"Let's sleep on the floor?" He wasn't too comfortable sleeping on the frame. Barbatos seemed to think it over. Tthen he nodded and placed a set of blankets and pillows down. Beelzebub followed along by helping him set up the bed. After a silent decision of leaving the lamp on, they were now lying next to each other.
The ceiling was pretty nice to look at.
As the light winded down to darkness, he felt a hand grasp at his fingers. He turned and saw Barbatos looking at him. Their faces were barely inches apart, with both of their eyes fixated on one another. Beelzebub offered a smile, a risky gesture that could possibly cause a violent reaction, but Barbatos simply returned the grin with a slow formation of happiness.
Like leaves intertwining on a stick, Barbatos rolled to his side and danced his fingers on Beelzebub's dirty uniform. A peaceful strumming of guitar played in his head, and he reciprocated by turning towards Barbatos and melodiously playing with his oceanic strand of hair. The falling water-like gradient reminded him of ferns that bloomed only under the coldest conditions. Barbatos had been a bit similar, in the sense that something grew out of death's frustrated grasp at their hearts.
"You okay?"
The urge to ask came naturally to Beelzebub, with his mind a bit submerged in the jar of haziness usually associated with sleep deprivation. He only often brought one's condition with his brothers, especially Belphegor. And speaking of Belphegor.. Beelzebub hoped that he was safe wherever he was. He'll have to check up on him by the second he wakes up. But for now, Barbatos was here. A person he never thought he'd lay next to. And whose eyes, which mystified him in the past, now looked clearer than ever under his watch.
Barbatos blinked gently at him, his fingers coming to a stop to lay flat palms on his chest, just near his beating heart. No blush or embarrassment came—they were in the moment, and their wandering thoughts only focused on each other. Barbatos drew his head closer, and closer until they could see the freckles and dots on one another's skin no one else saw from a distance.
His breath faded into love, and the descent never felt so euphoric and weightless before. He wondered if their bond would exist if he remained and stayed back at the university with Belphegor. But he felt no care or tug at the matter—he was with Barbatos, and Barbatos led him to his home.
"I'm fine, Beelzebub, now that you're here."