Work Text:
There was a special event scheduled today.
Diavolo had already woken up earlier than the rest of the attendants, as he always did. Unfortunately, the nerves were getting to him a bit more than usual. He kept adjusting the cuffs around his wrists, and as he walked around the planned destination of the event, the swaying melt of the flowers caught his eye. Diavolo smiled at the lovely sight and he kneeled down to cup the petals gently.
Barbatos would love them.
After a silent promise of planting more of them for the future to embrace, he picked up the ethereal wisps of deathly blue and kept the ghost-like threads gingerly in a handkerchief stitched with starry designs. It would fit well with the ceremony later. Diavolo liked to wake up and turn up early; the peaceful serenity of a place that would eventually be filled later never failed to bring a sense of humming tranquility in him. Every footstep of his echoed in the thrumming halls, and the stained windows revealed a colorful curtain of muted merry on the floor of the aging building.
Diavolo smiled and gazed at the tireless preparations he and the others made. He couldn't hold back a laugh when he recalled Mammon and Asmodeus arguing over the placement of the flowers on the arch of the structure, and when Lucifer struggled not to kick a Little D into their demise. It was a stressful week of meetings and compromises, and Diavolo, for all the energy he had, admitted that he also fell prey to exhaustion from time to time during the planning. He was thankful for Lucifer's presence and patience during all the moments of panic.
But seeing the pleasant smile on Barbatos yesterday made every second of sleeplessness worth it.
He held the handkerchief to his heart. Diavolo knew the butler all too well, and if he was correct, he'd see him just outside the doors at this time. He whistled a tune, a playful tone with a twisting tale to each note, and by the time he reached the last drop of the song, he put a foot behind the other and twirled around to welcome a beloved he never learned to let go.
"Lord Diavolo, you're up early." In his life, he always tried on the most fascinating and gorgeous suits and dresses—Barbatos would take his measurements, assist him, and there were times when the butler compared him to a precious jewel to be treasured or kept well. Diavolo loved the high shoot of praise he'd got from his words, and he'd thank the butler endlessly. He stored those memories in a silent locket.
As petals forlornly fell through the open door, Diavolo could only stare as Barbatos entered in a well-fitted mold of a flowing formal suit adorned with black curtailed drapes where its ends were imbued by gentle cyan hues. Diavolo ran involuntarily to open the door wide, and he held out a hand for Barbatos to reach and grab. The butler looked down, but he graciously accepted the offer with a strained smile. Then, Diavolo closed the door, and he pushed it all the way in when he couldn't avoid the creaking noise, no matter how soft he shifted it.
"Young master, how have you been doing?" The oceanic strand of hair that usually framed his face was pulled back and pinned down by priceless leaves from an ancient tree. Instead of answering to dive into a conversation that would only strap their nervousness down temporarily for the incoming event, Diavolo stepped up and fixed one of the leaves on his hair. Barbatos deserved to look beautiful for the special day.
The butler kindly touched his hand, and a curious confused look appeared on his face. "My Lord, you're not supposed to serve me. If my hair was a mess, you could've just told me."
"I.." Diavolo forgot how to use his words as he fully registered in Barbatos' face and appearance. His eyes glowed like bright green seas under the watchful guidance of twinkling nights. The suit tailored just for him framed his neck and shoulders quite well, and the folds that started at his waist made a gorgeous display of intersecting shadows.
"My Lord?"
Ah. Diavolo's vision snapped back to Barbatos' voice, and he internally arranged his thoughts in a hurry as he struggled to formulate a reply. "I'm quite fine, Barbatos. And this is a special day; can't you let me serve you this time? Just today, please?"
The butler's eyes blinked rapidly in thoughtful motions and he stepped back, an action that drove Diavolo into dreadful thoughts, but thankfully he moved forward and Barbatos slowly nodded. "If that's what makes you happy, then I suppose I'll give in for now."
Diavolo held back a high-pitched cheer in his throat and resorted to laughter instead, one that repeated and bounced at the walls of the building. Barbatos laughed along with him, although his was lower and quieter. It still flew pleasantly along with Diavolo's voice, and the metaphorical birds disappeared in the wind as they both settled into a more comfortable bond.
Diavolo then held out his elbow and cocked his head towards the posed arm. "We'll have to start practicing for later." Barbatos shied away initially, but he relented eventually and hooked his hand around Diavolo's crook of his elbow. Diavolo cleared his throat and together, they both walked on the magnificent tiles of the gleaming gloom of the gothic building. He never stepped too long, too big, or too slow, and Diavolo watched Barbatos' strides subtly to match his pace. This was the only time they got to practice the process for later, and Diavolo wanted the best for Barbatos.
"My Lord, please, you're too stiff." Two hands grabbed at the crook of his elbow and he felt embarrassed as Barbatos lowered and patted his arm. "I appreciate the gesture, but if you're not comfortable—"
"No!" Too loud. Too desperate. Diavolo turned to Barbatos and continued upon seeing a worried frown. "I mean, no. I want to do this for you, Barbatos. Apologies, I just.. feel queasy."
"I see." Another pat and Diavolo's heart yearned for the warm, soft touch. "If it helps, I'll hum a song as we walk. But just know that you're not obligated to do this for me." Barbatos smoothed over a wrinkle on his suit, and tears prickled the corners of Diavolo's eyes as the tinkling tune he slept to began. His feet were still moving, and the walls still registered in his mind, but now he vividly saw the melting abyss of the night as he laid on the grass, and as the butler caressed his broken head on an empty field of loneliness.
Barbatos always sang to him in his fallen moments of despair; it was the time when he couldn't handle the stress of work suddenly poured on him in his role as the Devildom Prince. His father never cared enough to be present or to be someone he could lean on, someone he could tell how his day went, or someone he could talk to about stones he could never release to the winds. But Barbatos appeared, and the lake became still. He laid his head on his lap and sang to him. Birds nor crickets were nowhere to be found or to be picked up, and stars blinked out of sight, but Barbatos was there.
He came to Diavolo, and he stayed with him. He sang to him, and he carried him when nothing lifted him up.
And in the present time, as Barbatos gazed at the decorated arch in the front section of the building with a warm sweet smile, Diavolo wanted to be the pillar he could lean on this time. He gently came to a stop and Barbatos looked at him with a proud expression on his face. "You did well. We reached our destination."
"I did." But gods, after all those memories, after all the deep conversations they had—Diavolo couldn't deny the plant of pain inside. After nights when he confided in the moons, he managed to trick himself by telling himself that it'll be fine. It's not like the butler would drown alongside dead ichor. It's not like he'll forget Diavolo and never return forevermore. But right now, that might as well have been the situation based on how tight the feeling in his chest became. Barbatos let go of his arm and murmured a small farewell before stepping away. Could he do it? Could he let him go? Could he really give way for Barbatos?
It was now or never.
He grabbed the butler by instinct before he could fully leave, before he ran to a distance where Diavolo couldn't reach him anymore. This wasn't part of the plan—this wasn't a stained glass shard that was supposed to be in the future window weaved by the fates. Diavolo knew that Barbatos knew that, but regret and shame ran too slowly to catch and tie down his yearning love. It was now or never; and cruel Cupid gave him such a tiny, disastrous sliver of opportunity to confess before everything came to an end. They had millennia—why didn't Diavolo ever think of opening up before it was too late, before it hurt too much?
His soul is damned.
"Barbatos, I—" Why? Why couldn't he say it, even now? Why couldn't he say it to the person who loved and held him in the past centuries? His words ran dry as expecting eyes waited for him, and a fraction of impatience was never present in his gaze. Heavens stole his ability to speak, so Diavolo decided to give into the deep end.
He held the cloth that was handsomely wrapped around Barbatos' waist, and for a seed of a second, he could pretend. He could pretend. Diavolo could pretend that he lived in a timeline where he was the one who courted him first, the one who proposed to him, and the one who'd marry him. He could pretend as he embraced Barbatos' jaw, and as he leaned in to dare feel the touch of lips that spoke words that hugged his soul. He closed his eyes and memories he spent with him flashed through his mind.
Strings of tears sang, and regret finally caught up, but not guilt for kissing Barbatos before his wedding. But for being too late, being too doubtful, being too avoidant—this would be the only star he'd have, and after this, he could never have him. The sand ran, and time left him no grain to have.
Diavolo wished things could last longer—he pulled away, and even if he knew the price was too painful to pay, he still chose to steal his first and last kiss. Barbatos looked at him with so much shock and surprise that, even when he expected it, hurt him, and he couldn't blame him—this wasn't fantasy where Barbatos would run with him, no, it was likely for the butler to leave him wholly. But rather than run like a coward in the past, he stayed and waited for his reaction.
It was the least he could do.
And for a moment, he saw Barbatos' eyes dilate—love that he kept in for so long reflected back at him, and it only crushed his soul. His butler loved him back. Somehow, it was worse than being rejected, being slapped, being isolated—the knowledge that it could've worked broke him. Strings turned to streams, and all his emotions joined the pitiful mess of yearning love he had for him. The butler looked away with knitted eyebrows and resorted to caressing Diavolo's hair. He knocked his forehead against Diavolo's, a gesture he did when he comforted the young Lord since he met him.
Diavolo dove in and fully wrapped his arms around Barbatos' figure, wholeheartedly feeling his scent, his skin, and his soul. He carried him slightly, raising him up from the floor to the point where his shoes didn't touch the ground. Seeing the river-like cloth cascading from Barbatos' set-up get lifted up injected a dot of happiness in him, and gods, he really wished he was the one who got to marry him.
He closed his eyes and drank in every tick that went by. And for a hellish warm moment, he felt at home with Barbatos.
---
"Love of my life!" Beelzebub ran and hugged Barbatos, who waited for him with open arms and returned the tight embrace back as much as he could. The two looked absolutely adorable and endearing as a couple. Beelzebub squeezed him in so much love and Barbatos laughed freely as he rubbed and patted his back. His feet swung a bit in the air as Beelzebub showered him with physical affection.
Diavolo was glad. He sat silently on a chair as guests slowly poured in one by one. And by guests, he meant the brothers and others they knew well enough to invite to the wedding. Barbatos and Beelzebub weren't comfortable with strangers and mere acquaintances attending the ceremony. Earlier, Lucifer came seconds after they separated, and Diavolo felt a strange burst of relief that he didn't witness what they just did. And his relief was only reinforced by the jump of nerves he felt at Beelzebub's arrival.
He immediately greeted the two while Barbatos traversed the aisle in slow, measured steps. And that's when Beelzebub ran towards his lover while Lucifer followed after, warning him not to suffocate Barbatos. Diavolo chose to stay behind and sit at a table near the south end. He watched the three talk in animated motions, particularly Beelzebub, who kept cuddling Barbatos. Lucifer sighed at the display and led them towards the altar.
As they did their business, Diavolo stood guard and monitored each person that came in. He held conversations with every individual who came in, notably Leviathan, Satan, and Mephistopheles, but all words and exchanges felt like blurred water in his mind. He felt well enough to interact with them, and he could stand just fine while breathing, but his mind never moved away from the butler, who was currently busy with someone else.
He stood, sat, shook hands, and chatted, but none felt deep enough to shake him out of the numb condition he had adapted for the ceremony. Before he had the opportunity to mentally ready himself for that part of the event, he saw himself next to Barbatos, and his heart dropped when he felt his hand wrap around his crook.
The butler looked at him with eyes that spoke, and the voice from earlier, when the chairs were still unbothered and tables still undisturbed, filled his mind.
"I appreciate the gesture, but if you're not comfortable—"
He couldn't lie. Diavolo felt his mental fortitude break glass by glass, and coldness swam in his hands and feet. He could hear whispers as he stayed in his spot, and gods, he couldn't do it. He could ruin this day, and he just kept destroying things for Barbatos, and of course, that's who he was, someone who only inconvenienced everyone around them and
"Diavolo."
Barbatos leaned in and hummed a tune. A melody that never gave up on him. He nodded, took a deep breath, and even with the unstable stone he stepped on, he could walk. And before he could dwell on it, he escorted Barbatos down the aisle as music aired and flowed through the air.
With each step, the weight in his chest felt heavier and heavier. All eyes studied them, and in all the official meetings and occurrences he led as a prince, this was the first time he felt weak and vulnerable to loss. A light squeeze on his elbow and he flinched, only to see Barbatos on his side smile sweetly at him. He couldn't afford to lose Barbatos at all.
But with the expression on the butler's face.. and with the intimate look he gave him as they came to an end, he knew that his fear was irrational. Barbatos would still be next to his side, but this time, he'd only be with a husband. Diavolo finally came to accept that as he let go of Barbatos and he watched him join Beelzebub on the altar.
Diavolo couldn't stop the tears that ran down once again, and he felt genuine happiness bless his heart as Barbatos recited his vows with Beelzebub. He clapped with the others as the two kissed and officiated their bond as husbands. He was glad for them, and he'd do everything for them in the far future.
In another life, it could've been him and Barbatos. But as Beelzebub carefully arranged the leaves on his hair, he knew that he'd take care of him, and Diavolo could rest easy knowing, that they would share a life of love in the near future.
He kept the handkerchief inside; he’d have to gift them to the newlyweds later as congratulations.