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If anyone were to ever ask, you would have to admit that even attending school in your timeline was easier than navigating the past. Which if you were in the human world would be a meaningless comparison. But, you aren’t. And considering you still couldn’t tell the difference between werewolf bone powder and crushed unicorn horn and failed all practical exams in every subject, was saying something. Your experience with Devildom in the future did not translate at all, and even the weakened power you have flowing through your veins and your station as a demon doesn’t save you.
Cocytus Hall was always a welcome sight, overwhelming and gothic. Its turrets reach high into the inky blackness that you have long since grown accustomed to. The gate creaked as you pushed it open, your other hand digging through your bag for keys. The path was bordered by a meticulous garden, growing despite the eternal lack of sunlight. Some flowers glowed, providing enough light to navigate. It felt homely, with soft blue lights contrasting with the bright floating flames that are a staple of the dimension.
You pushed open the door, silence greeting you. Dread began to pool in your stomach. At least with explosions you could identify where the damage had occurred. “Hey, Sol! I’m home!” You called into the house as you toed off your shoes. Footsteps echoed down the hall. Unsteady like someone is trying to hide their rapid pace towards you. You laugh softly and lower your bag. Solomon appears around the corner, with ruffled hair, and face flushed with a soft smile. He swooped forward, taking your coat from you with a soft ‘allow me’ and throwing it over the jacket stand.
“Welcome back, dear,” Solomon murmured softly. His affection was definitely a change you hadn’t grown used to. In your timeline, you would return home to the brothers, and spend your evenings pressed between them as a show that barely anyone was watching played in the background. The quiet at Cocytus Hall had been nice in the beginning when the shock of a new environment and the lack of recognition in the brothers’ eyes had made every choice feel like a step towards destruction. With the demons warming up to you now, the space feels empty. Laughter doesn’t flow through the air. Shouting and fighting that used to make your heart race and your palms sweat now no longer scares you. It feels like home. Like life.
Still, the quiet doesn’t mean calm, and the way Solomon is flickering around you with a mischievous glint in his eyes suggests nothing good. “Thanks.” You say flatly. Looking around the room doesn’t present any clues as to what has gone wrong, but you have been gone for an entire day. The building is still standing which indicates it’s not as bad as it could be. “How was your day?”
Solomon hummed, eyeing the takeout hanging from your wrist. “It was good, you could say my latest experiment was a success.” Ominous wording but you had long since stopped expecting bluntness from him. He takes the food from your hands and moves towards the dining room, humming a tune to himself. His bad luck with food thankfully doesn’t extend to serving it.
You get changed quickly anyway, Solomon might not have damaged the house but every second left unattended with food could lead him to decide to add his own flair to it. You could swear he enjoys serving you inedible food, being with the brothers for long enough has taught you to deal with sadists for the most part, but still, avoiding the situation always worked more in your favour. Even though he is nice enough to wash the dishes after presenting such a meal.
You look around as you walk back from your bedroom, detouring to peak into his lab and the bathroom, there doesn’t seem to be any damage in those rooms but he did once manage to unleash a swarm of rats without you noticing so visual cues aren’t the most trustworthy indicators for his chaos.
You glide into the dining room in your loungewear; the food laid out on the table is seemingly edible. You sit down next to him, loading up your own plate with food. Relearning dishes was another issue, a single ingredient that had been removed at some point in your timeline had been present and turned the dish into a poison. You had spent several days in bed in the beginning with Solomon tending to you while you recovered from various food poisonings.
“What did you get up to?” You ask, “You mentioned an experiment?” Solomon pauses, the smile forming on his lips was more devious than the look he had when you entered. “What did you do?”
“Well, that is a question with a rather funny answer,” Solomon began, setting down his cutlery and leaning towards you. “I was trying a new spell from a very old spell book and… while it wasn’t successful, unfortunately, I did uncover a way to entirely remove an object from existence.” He laughs, hand moving closer to yours. “Which means I had to test it multiple times just to ensure it worked.”
You set down your cutlery, looking at Solomon with a blank stare. “Okay, what have we lost? Do I need to go shopping tomorrow?”
Solomon gently touches the back of your hand, leaning forward in a way reminiscent of Asmo. You sometimes wonder who picked it up from the other. “Well, it seems all the beds have vanished, other than yours of course.”
You laugh, relieved to know the damage. You don’t push off his hand, turning to face him properly. “What a shame, so you’re sleeping on the couch.” He doesn’t frown, running his thumb over the back of your hand. It shoots electricity up your arm and you try not to shiver under his attention. There are moments where his status as a human feels more like a suggestion than a fact.
“Well, I was hoping for a different alternative, sleeping on the couch doesn’t sound too comfortable.” He glances down at your hands and blushes lightly. “Perhaps we could share, I hear that isn’t too unusual.”
You reach up with your free hand and gently brush down his collar. “You know, I’m sure there was a 24-hour furniture store, how about we go get you a new bed now? Surely you can build that with magic.” The lie sits obviously between you. You would hardly trust him to use magic on something as simple as making the bed frame, lest you want living furniture wandering the house.
He hums, considering the idea as your hand stops moving, just resting on his collar. Your thumb just barely touching the bare skin on his neck. He swallows thickly, eyes locking onto yours as his free hand reaches up and gently rests on yours. The atmosphere shifts, the air feeling warmer, if you didn’t know any better you would have thought his magic was enhancing the flames.
He moves your hand off his collar lifting it until it hovers next to his cheek. He shifts his face, eyes never straying from yours and gently brushes his lips against the bare skin on your wrist. A feather-light kiss that sets your skin alight nonetheless. “You are quite something.” He smiles softly, resting his cheek against your palm. You gently stroke the skin with your thumb out of habit. It’s soft and the hair is tickling the skin on the back of your hand. You don’t try to move, the retort on the tip of your tongue forgotten as you take in his beauty in the warm light of the flames.
Your eyes flicker over him, from the pink tint on his face to his soft white hair catching the firelight and making him look ethereal. His chest rises and falls steadily, pink, plush lips parted just slightly.
The lips move, twitching up on one side into a smirk, you drag your eyes up only to see his open again and staring back at you. “So, may I?”
“May you- what?” Your mouth feels dry. kiss you? Would you want that? He’s staring at you like you’re someone precious and it makes your heart feel like it may beat out of your chest. Neither of you is speaking over a whisper like the flames aren’t your only audience.
Solomon rubs his thumb against your wrist before moving his hand up your wrist, caging your hand between his hand and his face. “Share your bed tonight.”
That concept somehow feels less intimate than the moment you’re in and at the same time incredibly, inconceivably more. “Okay.” You breath. His smirk shifts to a smile, it’s different than when you agree with the brothers. It is soft, with none of the self-satisfaction of getting an agreement. It feels open and vulnerable like he wasn’t sure you would say yes, but unlike covering up that uncertainty he wants you to share that with you. Smiling like he’s lucky, rather than he won. It feels suffocating. It feels like electricity is zapping through your body. It feels like your heart says his name with every beat.
He lets out a pleased hum, short and soft. “Thanks, I look forward to spending the night with you.” You can feel your face burning and forming words seems like an impossible task. He seems to take pity on you; tilting his face to press another soft kiss to your wrist before moving your hand away from his face and turning back to face his plate. “And thank you for the food, dinner was lovely.”
You swallow thickly and turn back to your own half-eaten plate, “Yeah, no worries. But I didn’t make it so…” His laughter doesn’t help with your desire for the floor to open up and swallow you. Butterflies are swarming in your stomach and forming any charming thoughts when he is watching you like that is a herculean task. “Glad you like it. They make good food, Levi suggested it. He said they served a dish from a manga he likes. ‘Help I accidentally ate an angel’s cake and now I’m cursed to cook in devildom until I make something good enough to compare to it’. It’s a strange manga.” You managed to calm yourself down throughout your rambling, the blush dying down as the electricity thrumming under your skin weakened. Solomon watched your rambling without comment, resting his head on his hand.
“So, what was the spell meant to do?” You ask raising your glass to your lips, pausing only to clarify. “Other than destroy beds.”
Solomon began to speak, rambling about interdimensional manipulation utilising mixing sources or something. You picked up enough keywords to understand it involved transmuting objects, but all nuance was left, thankfully his explanation took long enough that you were able to finish your meal without him needing input.
He stands up and grabs his own plate, collecting yours after you finish with a quick ‘allow me to assist’ before disappearing into the kitchen. You follow him, picking up the tea towel. Despite him trying half-heartedly to chase you out of the kitchen in the beginning, the pair of you fell into step, Solomon washing and you drying and putting away. The conversation flowed from magical basics to the trouble the brothers caused in the day, remaining away from the thoughts of what would happen tonight.
After cleaning up the pair of you moved to the living room. Solomon sits in the single chair, yet another spellbook in hand as you stretch out on the larger couch, throwing on an anime that Levi had been referencing all day. Every conversation seemed to revolve around the ‘Pretty Pretty Peach Princess’, and he seemed to be close to pulling out his own hair trying to explain it to you. The first few episodes were much the same as you anticipated, a slice of life meets magical girl in a story that had minimal obvious plot but plenty of high-action fight scenes. You were sure if you ever mentioned the lack of the plot Levi would try to take your head off. No doubt you were missing the very nuanced story of aging and friendship and the struggle of war and conflict or something equally vague. As long as you could keep the characters straight and include some notes about their design or powers he probably won’t get upset or require any further input.
By the fourth episode you were having trouble keeping your eyes open and the voices were blurring together. You aren’t entirely sure if you lost the story of the episode or if it was never there in the first place. The room went quiet and dark, Solomon turning off the TV and moving around in front of you. “Hey, don’t fall asleep.” You feel his hand ghosting over your face, pushing your hair out of the way. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”
You blink slowly, he’d put out the magical fires. His outline is barely visible in the darkened room. You were sure he could tell your eyes were open but he didn’t stop running his fingers through your hair, crouching in front of you. He retracts his hand as you slowly push yourself up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.
He moves back, allowing you to stand up. “Are you sure about this?” You ask, you hate the dark, being unable to make out the expression on his face. “I mean, I can sleep on the couch.” he grabs your hand, fingers calloused and slipping between your own.
“If only one of us were going to take the bed it would be you.” He assures you; he was so close, arm pressing against yours all the way up, fingers still linking with yours. “But if you’ve changed your mind, I can sleep on the couch for one night.”
You swallow and squeeze his hand. He squeezes back. Without giving yourself a chance to change your mind you started to walk, dragging him behind you. He laughs and follows along, matching your rapid pace. “I’m glad you’re eager, but I do need to brush my teeth and get changed.”
You flush deeply and drop his hand in your embarrassment. “Yeah, go do that, but if I'm asleep by the time you finish you are not allowed to wake me.” You walk to your own room quickly, listening as Solomon heads towards his own room at a casual pace.
You rush through brushing your teeth and splash water on your face in hopes you would have a chance to calm down. Getting changed felt a little more uncomfortable, painfully aware of the length of your shorts and your short sleeves. The brothers were shameless in their pyjamas, even when Asmo tried to convince you that he couldn’t sleep in clothes and you shouldn’t either for some made-up skin benefits. Or when Mammon slept shirtless and you spent the night pressed against his bare chest. But touching Solomon’s bare wrist felt more intimate than spending a night listening to Mammon’s heartbeat or spooning Belphie with his tail wrapped around your arm.
He knocks on the door as you move under the blankets. In the House of Lamentation, the door would be opened before you even had a chance to respond. The brothers had walked in on you getting changed multiple times, only some of those were intentional by Asmo. “Come in!”
Solomon didn’t wait too long after receiving permission. He moves straight to the bed, hovering awkwardly by it until you lift up the blanket. Despite his earlier affection, he doesn’t immediately move into cuddling or relaxing on the mattress. He looks tense, lying flat on his back and staring at the ceiling. You let out a breath you had been holding the entire evening. He was nervous too. You wonder when the last time he went to sleep cuddling someone was, whether he had ever done it before.
You shuffle forwards. He seems to tense more the closer you get until you press yourself against his side. You throw your arm over his middle and rest your head on his shoulder. “Relax, Sol.” You close your eyes and force yourself to relax despite the nervous energy, practically melting into him. “It’s just me.”
“Yeah… it’s you.” He repeats; though it doesn’t feel like an agreement. He pauses for a second, before shifting. After a few moments of shuffling you end up facing each other, Solomon’s arm around you with the other one as your pillow as your own arm rests over his waist. His shirt rode up in all the movement, your fingers brushing the bare skin of his back. He takes a deep breath before relaxing too.
The smell, so uniquely Solomon, is overwhelming. His apple-scented shampoo, the scent of wood and dirt that lingered on him from his experiments and the smell of ozone that you associated with his magic. The warmth surrounds you, electricity sparking everywhere his skin brushes. You can feel his heartbeat against your skin like it begs your heartbeat to join his in perfect synchrony. You can feel his breath against your skin and the rise and fall of his chest. It feels like fire. It feels like peace. The weight of his arm on your chest brings comfort, containing the nervous energy in your soul. It feels protective, you’ve seen him defend you with his unimaginable power, and yet those moments have never felt more meaningful than this one.
Despite the newness, you could feel the exhaustion from earlier seep into your bones. Wrapped up in Solomon’s arms, the weariness that you had felt since you fell into the past felt as light as a feather. “Thank you.” You whisper into his collarbone.
He is quiet for a moment and you almost think he has fallen asleep before he tightens his hold slightly for just a second. “You’re welcome, though I’m sure I am far more grateful for this than you. So, thank you.”
You aren’t entirely sure if you want to go to sleep, to let this moment pass. “We should do this again.” You murmur, your voice laden with sleep.
“Of course,” Solomon whispers, pressing a kiss to your head. “I will stay with you for as long as you will let me.” The weight of his vow is lost as you fall asleep in his arms.