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The hallway was dark, devoid of any light as Yuuta and Solomon rounded the corner with careful steps, coming to a halt in front of a heavy wooden sliding door. Yuuta turned his head towards Solomon and nodded towards the door curtly. Understanding the silent sign, Solomon reached out and slid the door open without any hesitation.
The rattling of the door echoed off the barren walls.
Solomon peered inside the room before he waved Yuuta closer and stepped inside. The exchange student took a reluctant step forward, but remained at a safe distance behind Solomon despite being several centimetres taller than the sorcerer.
They both looked around, muscles tight with apprehension. The room was old and traditional looking. Spider webs were hanging off the ceiling and most of the dusty furniture had a used and tattered look to it.
Somewhere not too far away, a faint, dissonant tune was playing.
Surprisingly enough, both Solomon and Yuuta were familiar with it. After all, it was a song Satan and Asmodeus had secretly taken from Lucifer’s collection of cursed records not too long ago. Yuuta knew because he’d been there with them, standing watch in front of Lucifer’s room as they secretly borrowed it without their brother’s knowledge. Solomon knew because Satan had played it for him ever so proudly after their successful heist.
“But where are Asmodeus and Satan?” Solomon finally whispered after they had staked out the room. He let his eyes wander over dusty furniture and spider-infected corners once more but admittedly, it was hard to make out more than obscure figures and shapes in the dark, even for someone like him.
Still, they had to be in here somewhere, he was certain of that. “Isn’t this where they’re supposed to be? Yuuta, did you see-”
The room divider in the back of the room swayed from side to side as Asmodeus suddenly came barrelling out, shortly followed by a much calmer but certainly not any less deranged looking Satan. Both demons were already in costume, two delicate dresses Asmo had been working on and talking about nonstop prior to the event.
And although it was easy to tell the two of them apart by their silhouettes, both of their faces were hidden behind those creepy, cursed masks.
Asmodeus lunged forward towards the two exchange students. “Yuuta, Solomon! Found you!” he exclaimed with his arms spread out dramatically.
Satan walked over to his brother’s side with slow and deliberate steps. He stroked the bottom part of his mask with one hand, as if lost in thought as he tilted his head. “You must be worn out after all that walking. Why not stop here for a cup of tea?”
Yuuta could feel a shiver running down his spine. All he wanted to do was rip those damn masks off his friends faces, but with the years, he had learned that oftentimes, it paid off to be patient. So he threw Solomon a questioning look, not quite sure how to approach the situation.
Asmodeus seemed to be watching them. The moment Yuuta tried to talk strategy with Solomon, the cursed demon jumped in, his movements uncharacteristically erratic as he leant forward ever so slightly.
“Of course, you’re invited too, Solomon,” he murmured, his voice laced with a strange sort of sweetness. “You’re always invited,” he added after a beat, this time barely audible. And although his face was covered by the mask, it was easy to tell that Asmodeus was mustering his pact partner from head to toe.
Solomon, apparently not in the mood to even entertain the mask's words, pulled Yuuta several steps back.
“What do you think we should do?” he asked. His eyebrows were pulled together and although outwardly, he seemed no different from his usual unbothered self, he was worrying his lip. “Of course we could try handling this with magic, but we-”
“We don’t know enough about the nature of the curse yet, got it,” Yuuta cut in. “Otherwise we’d just end up hurting them. I mean yeah, they’d probably be able to handle it, but I really don’t wanna do that. We’re on the same page here, right Solomon?”
It was a question that needed no answer. Yuuta knew from experience that just like the demon brothers had developed a protective streak for their pact partner, he himself had felt a strong desire to keep his demons out of harm’s way as well. And he was certain, it couldn’t be much different for Solomon. After all, he and Asmodeus had been with each other for decades upon decades now and even in their private lives, they seemed to be suspiciously close. So close that Yuuta had his very own suspicions that perhaps, there was something more than just your average demonic pact going on between the two of them. But in all honesty, it wasn’t his place to tell. He had brought it up with Amodeus once and quickly learned that trying to get Asmo to tell a well-kept secret was like trying to reason with a brick wall.
In the dim light of the room Solomon’s eyes, normally bright and scarily intelligent, looked stormy and sinister.
“We will not hurt them. Not unless it’s our last shot.”
Yuuta nodded. “Not unless it’s our last shot,” he repeated. He mulled over their options for a short moment.
Even as they were talking, the two masked demons weren’t doing much. They were standing still like puppets, their unwavering gazes set on Solomon and Yuuta. It was unnerving to say the least.
Obviously, they were still waiting for their answer. Just the fact that they were waiting this diligently however, told Yuuta that they were planning something. One way or another, there was no freeing them without a little danger.
“Let’s play along for now.”
Solomon threw Asmodeus and Satan a quick look. “Right, we don’t want to make them suspicious,” he whispered, yet his gaze never strayed from the two demons in front of them.
“Thank you Asmodeus, we gladly accept your invitation.”
Asmodeus threw his hands together in glee. “Gorgeous! Go on, plunk yourselves down right there.” He motioned towards an old couch, painted to look bloody and frayed. “Satan will be bringing the tea in a short moment.” Before he turned around to disappear behind the room divider, Asmodeus lingered for several seconds, simply staring down Solomon and Yuuta. He didn’t move, didn’t so much as breathe. He simply stared at them out of those dark, unnerving eye holes of the mask.
“We just so happen to have a special blend from the night lantern people,” Satan’s voice suddenly sounded right from behind Yuuta and Solomon. Solomon managed to remain calm, while Yuuta twitched ever so slightly and twisted his body so Satan was back in his line of sight. This however, turned out to be unnecessary since Satan almost immediately rounded their seat so he could place one cup each in front of them.
After having taken one cup, Solomon slowly lifted it to his face and breathed in the flowery smell. “Oh, it’s… quite the interesting aroma. Yuuta, why don’t you take yours and tell me what you think? I’m interested in hearing your opinion.”
Yuuta glanced at Solomon and lifted his cup cautiously. Just as he was taking in the smell, sickly sweet with something particularly strange lying underneath it, suddenly and without any warning, Solomon’s voice popped up in his mind.
“You’re better off not drinking this. The tea’s been laced with another curse.” Yuuta stopped dead in his tracks. He knew there were countless things Solomon could do with his ring, but he’d never even considered that perhaps, telekinesis was also one of those things.
Solomon, sitting on the couch with one leg crossed over the other, looked no different from the way he usually did. He was now chatting with Satan, who had begun to explain the origins of this specific blend of tea to him. Nothing about his demeanor would so much as implicate that he was currently doing two highly different things at once. The way his shoulders lined up the slightest bit too stiffly however betrayed his calm demeanor.
“What sort of curse?” Yuuta thought, hoping that it would reach Solomon just like that. It was worth a try at least.
“A sleeping one. One sip would be enough to knock you out for the rest of the night.”
Yuuta glanced down at the rose-coloured drink. It looked like any other tea.
“I’ll just pretend to drink it then? Not that we have much of a choice here, I don’t trust them like that. They keep staring at us like we’re their prey. It’s giving me the creeps.”
“So you’ve noticed too. Good. We can act like we’ve fallen asleep and then strike while their guard is down.”
Solomon swirled his tea around counterclockwise. “Thanks, this tea looks great. It smells fantastic as well,” he added and shot the two masked demons a quick glance out of intelligent eyes. “Very aromatic.”
Then, Solomon lifted the cup to his lips, closed his eyes and tipped his head back, putting on a little performance as he pretended to take a proper sip. To avoid any suspicion, Yuuta followed in his steps.
“Now act sleepy.”
“You don’t have to tell me.”
Suddenly, Solomon slumped a little against Yuuta’s side with a theatrical sigh leaving worried lips.
“What-?”
“Oh wow... “ he mumbled, his words coming out slurred and drowsy. “I suddenly feel so sleepy…”
Yuuta took the hint just as Solomon’s head of silver hair dropped onto his shoulder. It was time for him to do his part. After all, this was their chance to free Satan and Asmodeus from those damn masks. He let out a big yawn, and perhaps he was overdoing it a bit, but it still seemed to have the desired effect nonetheless.
“How strange, I do too. I think I need to go for a- ,” he covered another yawn -a smaller one- with the back of his hand, “I think I need to go for a little nap.”
With drowsy eyes, slightly teary solely for the dramatics, Yuuta dropped his cheek onto Solomon’s head, closed his eyes with a few last blinks and calmed his breathing.
Solomon’s hair was tickling the tip of his nose and he tried his hardest not to sneeze. For a few moments, they stayed like that, folded into each other in a state of false slumber.
They could hear the rustling of either Asmodeus’ or Satan’s robes in the dark. Aside from that, there was nothing but worrisome silence. After approximately a minute, there was more movement.
Asmodeus let out a sinister giggle. “Out like a light!” He turned his head towards Satan excitedly and clapped his hands together in glee. “Now nothing will get between us and those tasty souls!” He took a shuddery breath and kneeled down in front of the two humans. “Finally I can get my hands on this pretty pretty soul of his.” Ever so slowly and teasingly, he dragged his pointer down Solomon’s cheek. “It’s been long enough now, don’t you think so too?”
Satan bent at the waist and leaned forward a bit. ”I couldn’t agree more. Solomon’s certainly isn’t anything to scoff at. Human souls truly are a delicacy. Take Yuuta’s for examp-”
“Now.”
“Now!”
They both lunged forward towards the demon closest to them. For Yuuta, this meant tackling Satan. For Solomon, that only left Asmodeus.
“Wh--?!” With the element of surprise, sheer luck and a bigger frame, Yuuta managed to throw Satan to the ground, successfully pinning him down with his body weight. Nimble fingers quickly reached for the back of Satan’s head. The demon was growling, twisting and turning.
And then somehow, Satan managed to get his hand into Yuuta’s hair and with one big yank, the tie holding it together snapped off, making long pink strands spill around his face.
Yuuta let out a growl as Satan pulled at his hair once more. “You son of a-”
Reaching the clasps in the back of the mask turned out to be quite the hassle. Satan, although masked, cursed and not quite himself, was quite vicious and more than difficult to handle. But just as he pushed Yuuta’s face further away with the palm of one hand, the other one still busy yanking at the human’s hair, Yuuta managed to reach around his thrashing head and unclasp the mask. It slipped off without a sound.
Almost immediately, Satan seemed to have lost consciousness. Before Yuuta could check him for any injuries, he turned around to see how Solomon was faring.
Unlike Yuuta, Solomon apparently hadn’t managed to catch Asmodeus off guard quickly enough to tackle him to the ground. Perhaps this was one of the disadvantages of having been in a pact for as long as they had. Although Amodeus certainly wasn’t acting like himself right now, his subconscious still remembered all of Solomon’s little tricks and habits by heart. Which was perhaps the reason as to why they were currently playing their own little game of cat and mouse.
Asmodeus had apparently ran back around the table that had gotten pushed away from the couch during Yuuta and Satan’s little scuffle, and was now standing at the end of it, one hand on his hip, the other raised in a taunting manner.
“Now, now, Solomon. That wasn’t very nice of you. To trick me like that-” He tipped his head from one side to the other. “Naughty boy.”
Solomon, standing at the other side of the table, was watching Asmodeus with calculating eyes. There was something else behind them, a certain kind of gleam, perhaps it was worry, maybe it was a certain kind of reluctance and apprehension, that was and always had been reserved for no one but Asmo.
He took one step forward, passing by the edge of the table. Asmodeus mirrored his steps, refusing to let the distance between them grow smaller.
Solomon was watching the masked demon with serious eyes. “It seems there’s something both of us want. You want my soul, I want your mask. Don’t you feel like compromising?” In spite of it all, the words came out easy and relaxed.
Asmodeus let out a scoff. “So that you can overrun me like the brute you are? Absolutely not.” His gaze rested on Solomon’s chest for a moment or two. “Your soul however… I’ll gladly take it.”
“Right under the mark I placed on you, I can feel it throbbing, pulsating. In fact, I always can. Flapping its wings like a little birdie desperate to take flight. Tempting me,” he purred, “begging me to come and make it mine.”
Solomon stood uncharacteristically still, his jaw tight and his brows pulled together. Yet still, he refused to move one bit and waited for Asmodeus to come to him. There was no way for him to bargain his way out of this situation. All he could do at the moment was hold out, stay calm and wait until an opportunity to strike would arise.
He threw a quick glance to Yuuta, who was busy checking up on Satan, now all nervous energy and unwavering concern.
“Leave Asmodeus to me. Take Satan and bring him back to the others. Then help SImeon and Luke. We’ll be fine here.”
Yuuta turned towards Solomon and for a moment, it looked like he wanted to argue. “Fine. Don’t get hurt though, either of you.” He struggled to hoist Satan over his shoulder and threw Solomon, whose attention was already back on the sneakily approaching Asmodeus, one last glance.
“He won’t. I’ll make sure of that.” Solomon’s words rang clearly in his head.
“I said I don’t want either of-”
Solomon cut off their internal communication.
Yuuta cursed not so quietly and threw Solomon a dirty look. A couple of colourful words for the sorcerer quickly came to mind, but for once, Yuuta showed restraint and focused on the demon on his shoulder instead. He repositioned Satan so that he wouldn’t fall off his shoulder and with one last look behind, he made his way towards the others, back to safety.
Asmodeus’ head turned towards the heavy thumping of Yuuta’s boots becoming fainter and fainter by the second, but remained silent on the matter. Instead, he took another step forward so that he was not much more than two arm lengths away from Solomon and fixed him with those dead, dead eye holes of his.
“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this? A soul so decadent, so savory.” He took multiple steps at once, coming to a halt right in front of Solomon. He raised one finger to Solomon’s chin, tipping it upwards a bit. “And it’s about to be all mine. I don’t even have to share with Satan now.”
In spite of the mask covering most of Asmodeus’ features, it was more than abundantly clear that behind that mask he was, without any doubt, sporting a smile that was so wide and foul, it felt like an insult to Asmo’s perfectly poised way of being.
Solomon tutted his teeth. He hated to see his pact partner like this, misled and misguided, steered by this other power.
It was time for him to get the ball rolling. After all, he was Asmo’s partner, they were sworn to each other through the sigil resting right above Solomon’s heart. And as Asmo’s partner, he felt it was his duty to keep the demon safe and sound, just as he would do the same for him.
Perhaps, it was time for Solomon to admit that he’d always felt a strange sort of favoritism towards Asmodeus, which had inevitably evolved and turned into something else entirely. This was a fact Solomon had been aware of for years now. And for years now, he had ignored these certain desires and emotions, until recently, quite unasked for, they had started to bleed into his behavior towards Asmo more and more, becoming a red, tangled up mess of a thing.
It was his duty -both as master and friend- to make sure that Asmodeus was safe and sound. Because in the end, that was the only thing that really mattered.
“So quiet all of a sudden, huh?” Asmodeus muttered as he took hold of Solomon’s chin with one hand, squeezing in his cheeks a little. “I really don’t like them quiet. Won’t you keep me entertained while I take your soul, Solomon?” The mask stepped closer. “I promise it won’t hurt. Perhaps only a little.”
“And sometimes…” Asmodeus turned Solomon’s face to one side, his nails digging harshly into soft skin, etching harsh scratches into frangible skin. “Sometimes a little pain goes a loooong way, don’t you think so too, Solomon dear-”
Swiftly, Solomon grabbed Asmo by the wrist, took a hold of his neck and, using his own body weight, threw Asmo to the ground face first, pinning the hand he had previously used to grab onto Solomon’s face behind his back. Now Solomon was on Asmodeus’ back, his knee’s digging into the ground as he tried to keep the now struggling demon still.
The masked demon was thrashing, all curses and teeth and ruthless limbs, struggling to push Solomon away and regain the upper hand of the situation.
“You little- !” he spat out, jaw clenched as his shoulders trembled under the pressure of trying to get the tall sorcerer off his back. “Get off me right now you bastard, how dare you!”
Solomon was struggling to stay on top, but put more pressure onto Asmo’s body instead of letting loose. With his hand still locked tight on the back of Asmo’s neck, keeping him securely in place, he refused to stray from his goal. His legs were shaking from the exhaustion, but he persevered.
He tried to reach the maks’s clasp with one hand, but Asmodeus’ tossing and turning forced him to change positions. Leaning even further forward and using his forearm, he pressed Asmo’s face sideways into the ground and the cursed demon let out a nasty growl. His hand was now pressed to the top of Asmo’s head, partially buried in his loose curls. And in spite of the severity of the situation, Solomon couldn’t stop thinking about how much his Asmo would yell at him for this. For the roughhousing, the harsh marks left on skin that bruised way too easily, for these unkind hands of his disturbing the sanctuary that was Asmo’s flawless body.
Once all of this was over, he would have to make it up to him somehow. Right now however, ridding him of that vile mask was Solomon’s one and only priority, no matter what.
He pressed Asmo’s cheek harder into the old wooden floors, pulling his hand back a bit right in time before the masked demon could take a bite at one of his fingers. You should never catch yourself messing with a decent demon bite, especially when you’re a -although a bit odd and arguably slightly immortal- human being.
Solomon put the majority of his body weight onto his arm, pressing Asmo so hard into the ground he knew there’d be bruises and cuts later on.
The demon had somehow managed to reach around and sink one claw into Solomon’s thigh, but the sorcerer decidedly ignored the nauseating sensation in favor of finally getting the mask off Asmodeus. With two fingers hooked under the strap and his thumb working on the clasp, the band snapped open just as Asmodeus’ claws buried themselves deeper into the soft flesh of Solomon’s thigh. Blood was dripping down his leg, seeping into the cracks of the wooden floorboards and he took in a sharp breath. However, there more pressing things on his mind at the moment.
As soon as the clasp jumped open, Solomon wedged his fingertips between the mask and Asmo’s forehead. Once he could feel the mask coming off, he released his grip on Asmo, who had gone eerily still, like a marionette whose strings had been cut with the sharpest pair of scissors.
Solomon supported Asmo’s head with one hand, cradling it as carefully as the situation allowed to so the demon wouldn’t get hurt any further. He turned his partner’s body around so he was now lying on his back. Softly, he pulled his hand away from Asmo’s head. Solomon’s leg was now throbbing painfully, but he ignored the pain in favor of looking after Asmo. After all, it was nothing more than a scratch, at least to him. Admittedly, a very painful and heavily bleeding scratch, but in the grand scheme of things, it would presumably cause him barely any harm.
Finally, Solomon pulled the mask off of Asmodeus’ face. For a moment, he simply looked at his partner, took in his delicate features, the way his nose scrunched up a bit as he regained his senses, the way his eyes fluttered open and started to gleam dimly with recognition.
“Solomon?” he asked, voice still drowsy and not quite there yet.
“Yes, I’m here,” he reassured, his voice sturdy and unshaking. Before he could stop himself from doing so, he brushed a stray strand of hair out of Amodeus’s eyes, who finally seemed to return to his usual self, groaning as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. Solomon leaned back a bit to give Asmodeus more space. He winced ever so slightly as he pulled back, unwilling to pay his leg wound any more attention than it required.
Asmodeus’s eyes darted from Solomon’s face down to the mask in his hands, putting two and two together. “I didn’t… Did I-? I thought it was all a ghastly dream, but…” His gaze trailed down to Solomon’s leg. Only then did he notice the blood on his own hands, shimmering crimson red in the dimly lit room. “Solomon? That wasn’t a dream now, was it? Tell me I didn’t-”
Solomon covered the wound with one hand as Asmodeus reached out to touch it. And just like that, the demon turned uncharacteristically quiet. His eyes were darting back and forth as memories evidently came flashing back to him, memories that he hadn’t seen firsthand, but experienced as a spectator, simply watching from behind the closed curtains of his mind.
“You should see the other guy,” Solomon joked before Asmo could really start spiralling.
“Hey! I’m the other guy!”
Solomon let out a dry laugh. “That, you certainly are.”
“This is no laughing matter, you are bleeding! Hey… Solomon,” Asmodeus started, his voice quiet and reluctant.
“It’s alright,” Solomon cut in before Asmo could even start thinking about apologizing. None of this was his fault. There was no way he would allow Asmo to think otherwise for even a second too long. He moved closer and put one hand on Asmo’s shoulder. “All good, Asmodeus. Nothing major happened. You’re okay.”
Slowly, Asmodeus lifted his hand to Solomon’s cheek and traced the fresh wounds with trembling fingertips. “But what about you? I did this to you, Solomon. I hurt you. I almost ate your soul for crying out loud! How could I let-”
Solomon gently took Asmo’s hands into his and slowly pulled them away from his face, down against his chest and kept them there until he was certain Asmo could feel the rapid beating of his heart. “See? No harm done. I am still very much kicking and breathing. There was nothing you could’ve done to change what happened today. Besides, you can't get rid of me that easily. I’m surprisingly persistent when I have to be. How did Lucifer put it again?”
Asmodeus laughed a little bit. “A cockroach. He called you a cockroach.” He sniffled once and then mumbled a string of incoherent words after. Just as Solomon was about to ask him to repeat what he’d just said, Asmo slid his arms around Solomon’s back and pulled him close, burying his head in his partner’s chest.
“Sorry, just for a second, let me-”
Without any hesitation, Solomon hugged Asmodeus back gently. He let his chin rest on top of Asmo’s matted curls, finally allowing himself to take in the first moments of peace and quiet of the day. Before pulling back again, he pressed his nose into Asmo’s curls, waiting for his heart to finally calm again. For a moment, they stayed like this, with Asmo staining Solomon’s shirt with tears and Solomon getting blood glued to Asmo’s hair.
Eventually, they let go again. Asmo wiped the underside of his eye with the palm of his hand. Solomon straightened his jacket.
Asmodeus peered up at Solomon out of red-lined eyes. His gaze wandered across his face, taking in all the damage he had caused when cursed.
His bottom lip started to quiver again. “Solomon, what should I do? What if you’re going to get scars because of me? Your poor handsome face...”
A chuckle left Solomon’s lips. “Then that’s just how it is. Scars do make pretty good stories, don’t they?”
With crossed arms and a quizzical side glance, Asmo let out a shaky huff of air. “You especially aren’t in need of any more good stories to tell. Aside from that, I haven’t ever seen a single scar on your body. Can you even still get them?”
Solomon raised one eyebrow teasingly. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
Asmodeus raised his eyebrows in retaliation. “ Oh? Wait, no- Solomon, this is no time to be joking! You did this on purpose, didn’t you? You’re trying to distract me!”
“Am I now?” Crouching down, Solomon picked up the mask and turned it over in his hands, his smirk quickly replaced by an unreadable expression. “Let’s get this to the others. They must be waiting already.”
As he attempted to get up again, Solomon pushed himself up only to falter back to the ground, suddenly filled with a sharp pain coming from the throbbing wound on his thigh. He let out an old ancient curse that’d make even the most seasoned of sailors blush and gritted his teeth. That was the wicked thing about adrenaline. Once it wore off, the exhaustion and pain felt almost twice as bad as originally assumed.
Asmodeus was immediately by his side, wrapping one arm around his waist and pulling Solomon up. “Put your arm around my shoulder, come on.”
And Solomon did as he was told and laughed a little. “To have you of all people carry me like this, Asmodeus. I thought I’d never see the day again.” He tightened his grip on Asmo’s shoulder and took an experimental first step.
“Have you already forgotten you made me build a temple that one time? A whole temple, Solomon! And a big one at that! I think I deserve a little rest from your brutish demands from time to time.” He pursed his lips. “My hands were all rough and rugged for weeks after.”
Solomon leaned against Asmo a bit more heavily as they made their way out of the room, the mask stored away safely and Asmodeus right next to him where he belonged.
The kimono he was wearing was looking slightly disheveled, coming apart and exposing one of Asmo’s shoulders. On his fair skin, Solomon could already see an abundance of bruises forming. And although it had been unavoidable in the moment, Solomon couldn’t help but feel a nauseating guilt swirling around his gut at the sight of them.
“Allow me to make it up to you then,” he said earnestly.
“You already did. You pulled that fugly mask off my precious face, didn’t you? “
They walked a few more steps until Asmodeus suddenly halted in his steps.
“Actually,” he started, putting one hand to Solomon’s cheek, cradling it ever so carefully. For a moment, there was heistation in Asmo’s eyes, the smallest moment of consideration, before he quickly leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Solomon’s cheek.
Solomon could feel his ears heat up. Embarrassingly enough, he’d always been one to blush easily and violently.
He could feel a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and kept his gaze set on the wooden floor as he tried to fight it.
“What was that for?” he eventually brought out, skillfully ignoring the way the sigil right above his heart seemed to pulsate with satisfaction.
“A thank you kiss. For being my knight in shining armor.”
Their eyes met and they just looked at each other curiously for a moment before Asmo pulled back a little. “Not that you should get used to it,” he quickly added. “I’m a luxury few can afford. And I still haven’t forgiven you for making me build that damn-”
Asmodeus kept babbling on, jumping from topic to topic as they continued their way to Asmo’s brothers. Solomon, exhausted from the eventful day, was more than satisfied just listening to Asmo’s countless tirades while they slowly approached their destination.
Not that I should get used to it, huh? He caught himself replaying their last conversation in his mind.
And in that moment, in pain and held up by Asmo’s gentle yet strong hands, taking clumsy step after clumsy step together, Solomon realized the one thing he had been trying to keep off his mind for decades now.
Perhaps, he wouldn’t mind getting used to it after all. Perhaps, that was what he’d wanted for a while now.
Out of the corner of his eye, Solomon watched Asmodeus and smiled ever so slightly. In spite of it all, he knew that no matter what, they’d somehow turn out alright in the end. They always did.