Chapter Text
People watching, it became an exceedingly intriguing hobby since you arrived in the land of demons. One you hadn’t had as many chances to partake in as of late. Watching as they simply go about their lives, how familiar and distant their actions were, holding hands when crossing the street, sneaking up behind someone to surprise bite their shoulder, tall demons patting the head of shorter ones and shorter one giving a kick to the shin in return merrily, a pat to the shoulder, hugs.
Were those simply natural inclinations, or was there history, and meaning that went over a human’s head.
And unfortunately it seemed, you’d never get too.
Despite those brothers being ‘rulers’ of this place, they always kept a distance from the people, knowing the culture, setting trends, but to bathe in it? Live it? BE IT
…
They refused too. Or perhaps, Lucifer, refused too.
To keep them safe.
Even all these years later.
The moment Satan sat beside you on the bench, a book in one hand, the other leaning on the seat-
“Oi! The hell you think you’re doin’!”
“PDA Police! Get your hand away from MC!”
A veritable riot broke out, first Mammon and Leviathan soon dragging in their other brothers, for the fourth had done such an atrocious crime. His fingers bumped into yours that were also placed on the seat.
As affectionate as any of them tried to be with you, someone else would always appear and throw a fuss over it.
Even when Beelzebub sat beside you and placed a hand on your shoulder. So terrible. “But they’re starving!”
Or when Belphie tried using your lap as a pillow. “Go away.” Diabolical, he should be thrown and locked away in the attic again.
…
It could surprisingly be cold in that house at times.
There was also a surprising lack of cultural exchange in this ‘exchange program’. But perhaps you were too presumptuous, that letter that started it all never called this a ‘cultural exchange program’. But wasn’t that the point of these things? Especially THIS ONE, for the three worlds to build connections, to better understand each other?
As much as you loved the brothers, you couldn’t help but mourn that ‘what if’, if you were assigned to live in Purgatory Hall or with Mephistopheles instead, to get a chance to actually learn of THIS PLACE, not just your isolated roommates.
“Hmm.” Diavolo’s smile faltered. Eyes closed, arms crossed, he leaned back in his seat.
“Something wrong?” Odd just moments ago you two were having your usual chats, him asking how your day was, laughing over the brothers antics and such, yet there he was, looking… not disappointed, but definitely not happy or content.
“But what’s gotten you upset? Is that something you don’t deem worthy of mentioning?”
“Huh?” Upset?
You rather enjoyed these weekly visits to the Demon Lord’s gardens for tea. It was your suggestion actually, kind of, a chance to directly talk to Diavolo about what humans would need here like artificial sunlight, after Lucifer threatened you shut up and not tell the prince a thing about how to actually improve the program. So early on when you had hopes of not being a family therapist and getting to experience the Devildom.
“I… I’m not?” How could you be in that moment? A break from yelling for quiet. Tea, biscuits, and all sorts of other delights prepared by the greatest butler there was. Holding a conversation that wasn’t interrupted every five seconds. Even great company.
It was Diavolo’s idea to have these meetings in the gardens over tea. Much better than the stuffy office you expected or even the brief handing over of a report. No. Barbatos would lead you through the maze of shrubbery, always noticing any plants that caught your attention and gifting you factoids about them, sometimes even incorporating them into the tasty delights you had for next weeks meet up.
“Why? How would I be?” This was too homely, like taking a day trip to a botanical garden with the kindest guides.
The prince didn’t seem to care for your query, a pitiful half-hearted laugh, or rather a huff was your response. Yet, he smiled, leaning in forward some. “Well then. I guess we can only get to business then.”
He beamed, that delightful sparkle in his eye. He truly loved his people. So much. “What do you want to know?”
“What I wanna know…” You took a sip, you forgot what Barbatos called it, but it was mellow with a kick on the back of the tongue. The butler set about pouring you some more; it was mesmerizing watching that pale pink liquid ripple in the cup as it flowed in.
…
“MC?” You were so mesmerized by the tea you missed the quick glance the prince and butler shared, and the faintest of frowns too. Or even your name being called.
“… I guess, what dose touch mean.”
“… What?”
How were you to word this? “You see… Back in the human world, there are many cultures that see touch or any display of affection publicly as strictly romantic. To do otherwise is wrong, disgusting. You’d be treated oddly if you asked to hold a friend’s hand. In other places, even just a stone’s throw away, people kiss one another on the cheek or even hug for greetings. I…”
You couldn’t help your gaze shifting away to the side, seeing the warped reflection of the stars on that great lake. “what dose it mean to you? Do you see people across the street holding hands and assume they’re a couple, or is that allowed if you’re not? Do demons need touch, are you smarter than some places that make such a basic form of communication practically a social tabu? Do you understand that humans NEED touch, that it helps the brain, keeps you healthy, PHYSICALLY, not just emotionally? That humans need one hug a day to stay healthy?
Do you understand how it rots? Do you rot?
Dose that make any sen-…”
Your words faltered the moment you focused on what was caught from the corner of the eye. He was reaching for you across the table, palm up. Was there enough room for him to rest his arm across the table or did Barbatos just like, instantly move stuff out of the way for him?
It was strange, such an open invitation yet still, your hand hesitated.
He dwarfed you. His callouses from writing so much, about or bigger than the pad of your thumb. If he closed his hand, your’s would be completely hidden and none would be the wiser if there was anything in his palm.
So warm, probably from his teacup.
…
Odd, he didn’t speak right away, instead his thumb idly rubbed against the back of your hand.
Studying. That’s what this was.
“What do demons eat?”
Asked the prince of demons.
“Uh, human souls?”
He just stared at you.
Then burst out into howling laughter. If he didn’t have such great control over himself, he probably would have knocked over the table on accident.
Dewy tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he settled down.
Okay, fine. Time for your real answer, not that you were incorrect before. “Energy, emotions. That kind of thing.”
“Lifeforce.” Of course, Barbatos swooped in with the correct terminology.
And you continued. “You can get it from things that require effort to make, like art, dancing, cooking.”
Diavolo nodded. “But, isn’t this emotional too? Touch?”
What an odd thing, that question truly grabbing your attention, dragging you out of that fog.
Gently his thumb pressed into the bones of your hand, tracing down them, massaging the muscles and ligaments that kept it all together.
“… I guess so?” Certain actions that involve touch yes, but just… touch itself?
Of course, the prince could read even the smallest of your expressions like an open book, was that just him, or something he learned as being prince?
“While alive, this is the closest we can get. Isn’t that special?” His eyes seemed to shimmer. “I think food is a common language among all people. We give it when hosting, we give it when others are grieving or hurt, when you don’t know what to gift someone, we always go back to food. Everyone needs it. We need connections, we need trust. And the best way to give food, is directly!”
“So, what. You’re nibbling on my emotions right now?” There was a light laughter in your tone-
“Yes!”
“…”
“And you get a bit of mine in turn.
Human lifeforce is so vibrant and bright, and you’re always making so much of it, leaving it in anything you touch. My people… after living so long, we lose that flicker, that spark to keep going, that energy, we have so little. People care for their own, even when you have little, you share with people you care for. Friends, family, neighbors, even strangers. If we didn’t have this little physicality that we do, touch… I’m not sure there’d even be a Devildom or demons.”
He gently squeezed your hand, something tender in his gaze as he did so. “And you need it too. I felt it, that shift! Just a little, but you feel a little better than before. Or worse. I… well, I haven’t felt a human’s touch enough to know that difference.”
…
At times, it felt odd to be so open like this. But for Diavolo, you tried. It was difficult to ignore one who wanted to connect as much as yourself.
You sighed. “Sometimes you don’t realize you’re missing something till you get a glimpse of it. But then when you do know…” Only now could you notice how something felt hollow. Deep and shallow. Overflowing, that warmth too much to bear that it burned but so empty you kept pretending he had an iron grip, desperately trying to not acknowledge how easily you could slip your hand away.
Almost… lonely feeling.
How it dared to squeeze at the back of your throat
…
“I suppose…” You turned to the butler, a hand on his chin. “they’re so wrapped up in competition, they haven’t realized how little nourishment you’ve actually gotten.”
“OH!” That sudden shift, a pop. You couldn’t help but to think back! “I thought the brothers were always more touchy with Beel and Belphie because they’re, y’know, the babies of the family! But it’s because Beel’s always starving! And that’s why they’re the most affectionate! Belphie and Beel are always feeding each other! And they… Beel’s said I’m starving before when I’ve just eaten or didn’t feel hungry. Maybe… THIS is what he meant.”
Diavolo hummed. “Of all of them, he would be the most sensitive to that. And Belphie certainly would have noticed too.”
“Heh, so maybe this is finally the way to get Belphie to stop trying to use me as his personal heated mattress. Just be at bit more… touchy”
huh
… how’d you even go about that. They’d always cause trouble if you dared tried.
A soft chuckle rumbled in Barbatos’ throat. “I, personally, would not place too much hope in that.”
“Then… what about you two? I haven’t exactly seen anyone be too touchy-feely with you.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
From the sounds of it, touch is a mutual exchange. It wouldn’t be wise for royalty to make themselves so open and vulnerable like this so often, would it.
And he offered his hand anyway.
“I devote my everything to my lord. It comes through in all my work.” All those sweets before you, the tea prepared in Diavolo’s favorite way. Could it be felt, pulsing like a heartbeat through the whole castle, cleaned day in and day out by Barbatos’ hand?
And now that you thought about it, Barbatos was never shy with the Little D.s, picking them up, lightly nudging them away to their work and such things. So they feed each other.
“Hmm?”
You couldn’t look to or answer the prince. But… Did it matter?
Could he feel it?
That you wanted?
You needed to get going.
It seemed, they may have began to see you differently after that. Dug a pit through the bottom of your stomach. Initially something in you just cowered. Wanting to hide. But how could you, when they were being more open themselves. The two people who should be the most guarded… and they tried for…
For you.
You wanted to throw up.
“It’s rather chilly out.” Barbatos held out an arm for you to hold on to as you traversed the winding paths of the gardens.
“Hmm, mind if I take a look?” Diavolo leaned over your chair during a student council meeting to see the notes before you, a hand on your shoulder, for balance would probably have been the excuse but none was needed when Lucifer swiftly crushed any protest about to be made… Although he hovered right behind you as if trying to push the prince out of your space.
And… perhaps you could…
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Just
Normal human, things.
“Hey, Diavolo. Wanna learn some human handshakes?”
“My! Yes!”
Perfectly. Average. Interactions.
“Barbatos, you know how to apply make-up right? Think you could teach me? I don’t think I should be asking Asmo to always do it for me, and… I’m kinda intimidated to ask him how. You know how… particular he gets about this stuff.”
“Certainly. But you know by now I can be rather ‘particular’ myself.”
“… Never mind!”
“We’ll begin tomorrow.”