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Ever since he and Raphael had started—dating? That felt like a childish word. Started doing whatever this was. Sex with real feelings. Being in love. Whatever—he no longer went to bed with Haarlep.
The incubus found ways to keep themselves busy in the day. Their talents, so to speak, did not go to waste.
Mostly, Nero sleeps in there when he and Raphael aren’t getting along, or when Raphael has been gone for a long stretch of time.
Tonight, however, is the former.
Well, in all fairness, they are arguing because Raphael is gone all the time. Nero understands he has work to do. The Hells, of course, aren’t going to conquer themselves. And Nero had given Raphael the crown to do just that.
But Raphael comes home exhausted. And Nero comes home after his days on the surface to an empty bedroom.
And who’s to say there won’t be another attack? That Raphael won’t anger someone enough to send them right into Nero’s path?
It’s childish to spend the night pouting in the boudoir, but he has no interest in sleeping next to Raphael right now.
“I thought it was domestic bliss for you two,” Haarlep says.
“I wouldn’t go that far. I’ll always come second to power. And right now, there’s quite a lot of power on the table.”
“Is that what you think?” Haarlep leans back against the sofa, pours themselves a glass of wine, “I don’t know if I’d say that.”
“I thought that he and I had come to an understanding. He loves me. But sometimes he doesn’t act like it. Should I relish in being second to a fucking desire?”
“I don’t think you’re second,” Haarlep’s tail flicks, and they look at Nero over the wine, “I think Raphael is still new to caring about another person. He doesn’t know how to handle it. At the very least, you’re probably equal to the take over the hells thing.”
Nero ought to give Haarlep more credit. They’re certainly clever enough to understand things like this.
“Do you think that he’s capable of really loving me? Truly, like mortals do?”
“I don’t know if Raphael is capable of any feelings but anger and hatred,” Haarlep says, “But ever since you moved yourself in here, I’ve seen a side of him that I did not think existed. It’s very obvious to those of us who have known him for a very long time that he loves you.”
“I suppose.”
“You are someone who is obviously very special.”
“Are you flirting with me?” Nero asks.
“If you like it then yes. Raphael has gone and stolen you all to himself. He’s quite selfish that way,” Haarlep says, pretending to pout.
“You know you’re always my favorite,” Nero laughs, “You’re nicer to me as well.”
“Are you sleeping in here tonight? Or will you try to get back on his good side.”
“He has a good side?” Nero raises an eyebrow, “I’m sure I’m not welcome in the bedroom after I called him a power hungry prick who has never loved anyone but himself and then threatened to sell him out to the next devil who asked.”
“I certainly can’t imagine why this would cause an argument.”
*****
Nero recognizes the footsteps without even opening his eyes. Obviously Raphael has come to either continue the argument or to kiss and make up.
“I’m asleep,” Nero mutters, “Go away. We can fight again in the morning.”
“Don’t be like that,” Raphael says, “I apologize for saying that you were a little fool who didn’t understand the first thing about politics or my position here.”
“And?” Nero doesn’t bother opening his eyes. Raphael is apologizing—the world really was a strange place.
“And for telling you that you could go and kill yourself for all I cared.”
Nero sighs, rubs sleep out of his eyes, and squints at Raphael in the near dark.
“I’m sorry for whatever I said,” Nero mutters. He tugs Raphael by his shirt until he gets into bed. It is more than large enough for three people, which is especially good because Haarlep takes up enough space for two, one of their arms around Nero’s abdomen, “Let’s be friends again.”
“If this is how you treat your friends, I’m curious to know how you treat your lovers.”
“I’m too tired to show you. Maybe in the morning.”
“Is this always where you come to sulk after we argue?”
“Yes,” Nero says, “Shh. It’s late. Let Haarlep sleep at least if you’re not going to let me sleep.”
“You know, the incubus is in love with you,” Raphael says, softly.
Nero pushes himself up on an elbow. He suddenly feels wide awake.
“Excuse me?”
“What? You didn’t know?” Raphael chuckles, sounding a little proud of himself for having this knowledge, “I assumed you knew. It’s perfectly alright. I- well it’s not even really sharing now is it? Given everything. I believe that they are the one person in the world I don’t mind sharing you with. I never have. And considering how frequently they can turn into you.”
“Are you putting me on?”
“My dearest little mouse, I thought you were smarter than this. If you’re not actually as smart as I give you credit for then we shall have to reassess this whole thing.”
“In love with me? I thought it was just sex.”
“Like how you and I were just sex?”
Raphael is actually making a good point and so Nero falls quiet.
“I think Haarlep and I probably care about each other in a twisted and awful way,” Raphael says, “So I suppose it’s all fine in the end. That is, of course, assuming you share their feelings.”
“Haarlep,” Nero says, shaking them awake, “are you in love with me or is Raphael just being a bastard?”
Haarlep blinks at him, slowly, still half asleep, “That depends.”
“On?”
“On if that gets me thrown out of this house or not. I don’t wish to impose on the relationship you two have built.”
“Oh shut up,” Raphael says, “Since when? Besides, I think it’s nice. What a horrible word that is.”
“Is it true?” Nero asks.
“Yes.”
“Alright then, now that’s all settled,” Nero sighs, sinking back down into the bed. He settles his head back on Raphael’s chest, returns Haarlep’s arm to its place around his abdomen.
“You are probably the most well protected man in the entire world,” Raphael says softly, “Kings would kill to have two devils who’d kill for them. How does that make you feel?”
Before Nero can figure out an answer, he falls asleep.