Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Simeon had no words. They had been staying in the Devildom for a while now and had indeed seen the Demon Lord’s Castle from afar. But standing in front of it? He felt small. 

His eyes trailed up the tall building, all the way to the tip of the tallest tower. It was a dark, intimidating building. Old, obviously, considering that he could see some cracks in the walls. But for a building this run down, he was shocked by how well taken care of it looked. He smiled.

I have a feeling that they have a certain butler to thank for that, Simeon mused, his eyes trailing over to Luke. The two of them had a … Friendship? Agreement? Whatever one may call it, as much as Luke may deny it, Simeon has noticed that the younger had an affinity for the man.

Barbatos … was strange. Mysterious may be a more correct word. Simeon did not understand him in the slightest. He was kind, had a nice smile, was always proper. Those were all qualities of a perfect butler. But not once had Simeon felt like he had seen anything real from him. 

Even so, Simeon enjoyed his company. Lord knew the demon made excellent sponge cake. But there was always something behind his eyes that left Simeon enamoured … curious. In truth, Simeon felt some affection for the man as well. He had really taken to Luke. They shared the same hobby, so it was only natural. Simeon was glad that his charge’s friendship was reciprocated … And it most certainly had nothing to do with the pastries.

He wondered if Barbatos had prepared any for the retreat. Perhaps he could sneak a few.

Simeon, Solomon and Luke seemed to be the last two to arrive.

A small pleased sigh escaped the man as they entered the castle. Three days. They would get to spend three whole days surrounded by this beauty. 

Well, aren’t we just lucky?

Their footsteps echoed throughout the large hall. He could hear each breath, each quiet sound as it rang between these four walls. 

“It’s big,” Simeon heard Luke comment next to him. 

He hummed in response.

“It is, indeed.”

His eyes wandered around the giant building, just taking it all in. He was most likely one of the only angels who would ever get to experience this. Not that many wanted the chance. Simeon had been like them long ago.

Yelling could already be heard down the hall, the voices unmistakable. 

“This way.” There was no need to ask for directions.

The brothers seemed quite thrilled to be there as well—Mammon, specifically. 

Why am I not surprised? 

The demon seemed to be eyeing a vase he most definitely wanted to sell for a quick buck. Mammon had always been sneaky, even in the Celestial Realm, causing trouble left and right. Simeon just never considered that those talents could be used for stealing as well. Unfortunately for him, Lucifer noticed, landing a blow over the back of his head a moment later. 

Simeon could already see the sour expression on his face. He could tell that Lucifer did not want to be there. Or rather, dreaded the fact that he had to watch over his siblings like a hawk.

“Behave yourself!”

“Oi! What the hell?! I didn’t do nothin’ yet!” 

Simeon snickered.

“Emphasis on yet. I know you. I see you. I see your eyes wandering. Keep your hands to yourself, otherwise you will be hanging from the ceiling for the evening.” The threat seemed to reel Mammon in from his fantasies and left the Avatar of Greed quietly grumbling. Lucifer only sighed.

It may have been a strange thing to think but …

I missed their bickering. It felt like home. Simeon’s smile drooped a moment, his eyes going downcast. 

“Good afternoon,” Simeon spoke finally, pulling Luke closer. The younger angel only gave a begrudging wave. He could already see Asmodeus making a beeline for Solomon, practically jumping at the sorcerer and kissing him all over.

“I see you three have made it.” Lucifer rubbed his temples. “Diavolo and Barbatos should be here soon. Till then, I hope we can be civil and— Mammon.”

“Eeep, wasn’t me!” Mammon put down the vase he really wasn’t going to steal Lucifer, he was just looking at it because of how pretty it was and— “Levi did it.”

“HEY! He saw you holding it! What the hell, stupid normie!” Leviathan made himself known, glaring at Mammon from across the room, standing nowhere near the vase. 

“He ain’t seen nothin’!” 

Lucifer was already clutching his head, Simeon noticed. A headache, most likely. He had those often in the Celestial Realm….

Simeon watched the situation unfold. It gave him a feeling of nostalgia.

The war had taken a toll on all of them, Simeon knew. And sometimes he still regretted his choice to not follow the brothers down here but … He glanced over at Luke, gently placing a hand on the small angel’s head. 

Luke looked up at him. 

Simeon smirked. “Love you,” he said, a little teasingly.

Luke’s cheeks went red with embarrassment. He immediately tried to remove the hand from his head, groaning loudly. “Simeon!” 

“Mmm, yes?” His tone grew even more teasing. 

“Stop!”

“Stop? Why, I’m not doing anything.” The smirk was replaced by pure amusement. 

“You’re embarrassing!”

“You wound me,” Simeon said. 

He knew Luke loved him right back. He was just going through a phase. Simeon had been warned that teenagers have difficulties expressing it. He patted Luke’s head once, twice, then let go. He glanced up and saw the group of still-bickering brothers already departing. 

“We should follow them. Otherwise we’ll get left behind.” 

“It’s your fault, you know!” Luke grumbled next to him. 

“Is it now?” The chuckle that left him was quiet.

—

They stopped in the middle of what Simeon assumed was a ballroom. It was large, golden. It shone brightly from every angle and left him in awe. He should have brought his writing supplies. A place like that was bound to have some interesting stories attached to it. Perhaps he could bother Barbatos for some parchment and a pen later. 

Speaking of Barbatos … 

Simeon noticed the man descending the stairs behind the prince. Diavolo was all smiles, like usual. It made Simeon question how a demon could be so optimistic. They reached the bottom and Diavolo gave them a greeting and a small speech. Simeon still recalled his first meeting with the prince. Back then, he saw no reason to trust the man. He was yet to give Simeon a reason to, either.

His eyes snapped to Barbatos—the butler had started speaking. Considering that Simeon’s mind had wandered a little, he had missed the beginning but it was easy enough to tune into what was being said. 

“Before we get on with the tour, which will be led by Lil D no.2 who graciously accepted to do it when I asked … Unlike the others,” the butler mumbled to himself before continuing. “I wish to inform you that, in order to share our respective cultures, Lord Diavolo has decided that for each night during your retreat here, we will have a different culture represented for dinner.” 

That perfect smile never slipped from the butler’s face. Simeon did not know how he managed it, especially with the horror that was being said at that moment. 

“Tonight, we thought we could begin with Celestial cuisine.” 

Simeon let out a small sigh of relief. So he and Luke would be cooking tonight. His eyes briefly flickered to Solomon, a visible shudder passing through his body. 

Human world cuisine will be tomorrow most likely. Simeon sucked in a breath. Luke and I could feign an illness. We can sneak in takeout. 

Perhaps the second human was not a bad cook. One could only hope.

Simeon smiled sweetly. “We are thrilled. We’ll make sure to do our best with dinner. Right, Luke?”

Luke, who was also quite obviously staring at Solomon, seemed startled upon having his name called. He jumped a little, then straightened up, his cheeks going red once more. He nodded.

“Yes.” 

Simeon heard Beelzebub quietly cheer. He always did love his cooking.

“Excellent.” Diavolo seemed satisfied, clapping his hands together with a big grin. “We’ll assign rooms to all of you. You will have to share, I hope that is alright.” Diavolo did not give anyone the chance to respond. Simeon just hoped he was placed with Luke. He didn’t like the idea of leaving the younger angel alone.

After some more chatter, the tour began. They followed the Little D down a hallway

—

The tour went by quickly, at least for them. Who would have known that Asmodeus could screw up that badly? Simeon prayed silently for their poor souls down in the dungeon. They would most likely be down there for a little while. Barbatos had reassured the rest of them that they would be taken care of and safe. Simeon decided to trust him.

With the tour over, there was some free time before he and Luke should get on with the meal. Simeon did not know how they would substitute the ingredients. Neither of them were very well versed in Devildom ingredients. Though if Diavolo and Barbatos expected them to cook, it was reasonable to assume that they had some things imported. 

“So I was thinking …” Simeon’s words trailed off and he turned as he heard laughter. His eyes landed on Diavolo and Lucifer. His heart dropped.

“Do you think they’ll be fine down there?” Diavolo asked, letting a little bit of concern show on his face. He was standing close to Lucifer. Too close for Simeon’s liking.

“Mm, they’ll be alright. My brothers may be idiotic sometimes but they are not incompetent.”

The two were laughing, together, looking at each other like they were everything to each other. The way Lucifer once looked at him. 

Simeon pressed his lips together, averting his gaze before he had to witness anything further. Jealousy was an ugly emotion. Unfortunately, it was one Simeon had been feeling often since arriving in the Devildom. 

One could not work against fate. And, unfortunately for him, Lucifer and Diavolo were destined for one another. 

Soulmates. 

It was a painful thought for him. The world revolved around them. Angels had them, demons had them, and humans did as well. 

But there were some who were left to wander alone. They could find solace in others who were like them. Simeon had once thought that Lucifer was like him. Without a soulmate, without that damned mark.

But no. He fell. And surprise, surprise … He found his own down here. 

Simeon tried to ignore the bitter feeling of misery as he turned his back to the couple. He could feel a pair of eyes on him. He sighed and ran a hand down his face. A voice caught his attention.

“Should we head to the kitchen?” 

“Hm?” 

“The kitchen.” Simeon glanced in the direction of the voice, smiling at Luke. “Should we get started?” 

“We should,” he confirmed, quietly. He already felt tired after today. While he would rather rest, he would not mind a distraction. He needed to not look at the two of them, otherwise his heart would be at risk of breaking. 

“Can I make the dessert?” 

“Of course. You’ve far surpassed my baking skills and we only wish to offer the best, yes?” 

Luke nodded, agreeing. 

The actual meal fell onto Simeon’s shoulders, while Luke got to work on the sweets. Not that Simeon was complaining. He rather liked cooking and Luke truly did make pastries and sweets far better than his own. So it was a good way to split their tasks. 

Quite frankly, he didn’t know how they would get all of the food ready in time … But they had a few hours. It would have to do. 

—

What a headache, Barbatos lamented as he prepared afternoon tea for the Young Master and their guests—specifically the guests who were not running amok in the labyrinth beneath the castle. They were certain to find their way out in time for dinner, despite a certain serpent’s best efforts to eat them. 

In any case, they were not his priority. Luke and Simeon had run of the main kitchen to prepare the evening’s meal of Celestial Realm fare, so Barbatos was assembling the afternoon tea offerings from a nearby kitchenette. As he waited for the kettle to boil, he set out an elegant plate and reached for the tin of Lord Diavolo’s favourite biscuits, only to find it empty. 

“Well that simply will not do,” he tutted.

He headed to the main kitchen without hesitation and knocked just once before admitting himself. 

“Forgive the intrusion,” he greeted the two angels, as they paused in the midst of their cooking. 

He offered them both a fond smile. In truth, Barbatos was disappointed not to be assisting with the dinner preparations, in part because he might have an identity crisis if someone took away his butler responsibilities, but also because, well … It had taken precisely one afternoon of baking alongside Luke for Barbatos to begin growing attached. The little angel was certainly reluctant to befriend a demon, and mistrustful of the butler’s intentions, but they had enough in common that Barbatos felt the youngster was warming up to him at last. It scratched some buried part of himself that longed for a child of his own—something he had never found time for, and doubted he ever would. 

“Pardon me, I am just grabbing some biscuits for afternoon tea and then I shall be out of your hair again.” 

“It’s no problem, Barbatos,” Simeon said. 

Naturally, Barbatos had spent time with the older angel as well, since Luke was Simeon’s ward. He felt he and Simeon had warmed up to each other easily, though they’d only spent time together in the context of baking time with Luke. Simeon’s presence put the child at ease—Barbatos doubted Luke would have been willing to spend an entire afternoon alone with a demon. And Barbatos had not minded Simeon’s company one bit thus far, though he sensed the older angel’s lack of trust for the Young Master. Of course, Barbatos suspected there was a little more to it than a mere lack of trust. 

In any case, Barbatos had begun to think of both the angels as new friends to him. 

Before he could step past Simeon to reach the pantry, Luke drew his attention again. 

“Actually, your timing is perfect! I need your opinion on the cake I made for dessert.”

The butler paused. A knowing smile tugged his lips. 

“Oh? Certainly. What have you made, Luke?”  

“It’s a Celestial Sachertorte! But I’m not sure if it turned out right with the Devildom substitute for the angelic apricot jam in the middle. I can’t tell if it tastes funny because I messed it up, or because the jam is just different to what I’m used to.” 

Barbatos listened patiently, then went to the young angel’s side to inspect the sachertorte. The cake had already been covered in a chocolate glaze. The heavy scent of dark couverture chocolate and the fruity notes of the jam greeted him. Luke cut a small slice for him and offered it on a napkin. The telltale glisten of a moist crumb beckoned.

“One moment,” Barbatos said, then slipped his gloves off and tucked them under one arm. Neither jam nor chocolate would mar them today, thank you very much. 

He could feel how fragile that dainty slice was as soon as he accepted the napkin. It began to crumble even as Luke transferred it to his hands. Barbatos inspected the slice more closely. The cake was certainly moist—almost wet. Though, it did not seem undercooked. The jam between the two layers had become syrupy, mixing with the chocolate glaze. It stuck to his fingers as he brought some to his mouth, and the residue remained on his digits while he chewed. 

“Mm,” he hummed, and ate some more. “The flavour is a touch oversweet. And I suspect the Devildom apricots have a higher moisture content than the Celestial fruits you’re accustomed to, so when the jam is warmed up there is more liquid. Use less than the recipe calls for next time. The cake is still a little warm, as well, so the glaze has melted slightly. You must be patient and let the cake cook completely before glazing.” 

The young angel clutched his hat, as if pulling his hair. 

“Should I remake it?” 

Barbatos checked his pocketwatch. “There is time. Perhaps wait until after dinner to add the jam and glaze. That should give the cake sufficient time to cool.”

Luke visibly sagged with relief. 

“Thanks Barbatos.” Luke nodded, all business. “I’ll do my best.” 

The butler finished the last bite of the cake and balled the crumbs in the napkin. The temptation to lick the stickiness from his fingers reared its head, but that would be quite unbecoming. Instead, he washed his hands at the sink, then patted them dry quite thoroughly with a paper towel. 

He is a good child, the butler considered, crossing back towards the pantry. I hope we will have more opportunities to bake together. He’s made an excellent pupil so far, and is eager to learn from me.

Simeon was already in the pantry, searching for ingredients for the main meal. He was squinting at the label on one of the packets when Barbatos joined him. The demon spotted the tin of biscuits he needed.

“Pardon me, Simeon.” 

“Oh, I’ll get out of your— oops!” Not realising their proximity, Simeon stepped back just as Barbatos made to reach past him. 

And in that split second of motion, Barbatos raised his other hand to steady them both from the gentle collision. The demon’s fingers splayed against the back of the angel’s shoulder, and his palm flattened in place.

“My apologies. I did not mean to sneak up on you,” Barbatos said.

The warmth of Simeon’s skin under Barbatos’s bare hand was a pleasant surprise, courtesy of the cut of the angel’s clothes. The demon’s cheeks flushed with colour from the unexpected intimacy of the touch. It was not the first time Barbatos had admired the other man’s physique perhaps a little too much, but that moment of skin-to-skin contact had his insides somersaulting in a strange new way. 

He pulled the biscuit tin to his chest. 

Ba-dum. 

Simeon gave a kind laugh as he caught his balance. 

“No, no, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have stepped back so suddenly.”

The angel’s body heat radiated through Barbatos’s palm. 

“That’s quite alright.” 

Ba-dum.

Something Barbatos could not explain seemed to hold him in place, just for a moment, as if he had become anchored by the texture of Simeon’s skin. 

Ba-dum.

All at once, a flash of heat seared through the demon’s hand. It was not painful, but it was certainly a surprise. Then he saw it, as he finally snatched his hand away from where his touch had landed; that place on the back of Simeon’s shoulder transformed before his eyes. A mark appeared, inky black against the angel’s dark skin. 

And it turned the butler’s world upside down. 

Without having uttered a word to strike a deal, without any use of his Infernal powers, Barbatos’s sigil had appeared on Simeon’s shoulder. The demon knew of only one reason, one possibility, for such an occurrence. 

“Barbatos? Are you alright?” Simeon asked, peering back at the butler. 

I cannot be certain, Barbatos wanted to say. My soulmark just appeared on your skin and I am holding a biscuit tin as if my life depends on it. 

“Yes,” he forced himself to say instead. 

Did he feel it? Has he realised?

The confused concern on Simeon’s face suggested not. 

Ought I say something? And what if I am mistaken? No, there is no other explanation. 

He floundered for a moment, but he could not muster enough of his usual decorum to string together what he would need to say. 

“Please excuse me. I must finish preparing afternoon tea.” 

Barbatos stepped backwards away from the pantry, then turned on his heel and marched himself out of the kitchen. He did not realise he was holding his breath until his lungs burned with a demand for air, halfway down the corridor. He clutched the biscuit tin to his chest with one arm and fumbled to pull his gloves into place while his hands shook. 

“Oh … Oh …” 

He slumped against the wall, hardly registering the sound of the kitchen door opening and closing again. 

I have found my soulmate. And he is an angel. 

This was not at all how he expected his day would go. 

—

What just happened? 

Luke saw the mark. He wasn’t blind. 

His eyes tailed Barbatos silently, watching the butler retreat from the pantry and then the kitchen with such speed that the only conclusion the young angel could come to was that something was wrong. Extremely wrong. His first impression of Barbatos had been that he was a level-headed man who did not panic. Now he looked like he was panicking and it made Luke panic in turn. Taking a moment to look closer at what was left on Simeon’s shoulder, his brows furrowed. The mark did not look familiar. Was it some sort of sigil? A mark for a spell? Simeon seemed to be unaware of it, the older angel mostly looking concerned for the butler who—

Who just helped him with his cake … Who had been nothing but friendly and good to them. Part of Luke was telling him the butler deserved a little benefit of doubt. He had been kind so far. Obviously, there would be no malicious intent behind whatever that was—

This is a demon. Demons cheat, lie, manipulate.

There was a chance that Barbatos only reacted as he did to throw Luke off. Yes! That must be it! There was no other explanation for it. 

They had been given many warnings from everyone back in the Celestial Realm, told to keep watch and keep each other safe. Demons were not to be trusted, no matter how kind they may seem. 

Luke shook his head, a frown crossing over his lips. Right, he couldn’t get too comfortable. They were not in the Celestial realm. They were not home anymore.

What should he even do? One option was to immediately tell Simeon, share his concern. That probably would have been the best thing to do in that situation … had Luke’s brain not taken the panic route. A lot of thoughts came over Luke at that moment. Was it a curse? A spell? Could it be fixed? Was it permanent? A lot of feelings, as well—concern, fear. The one thing that most everyone alive feared was the unknown. It made his stomach churn in an uncomfortable, completely undesirable way. So in that moment, Luke made a decision. 

He followed after the butler.

He would demand answers. 

And he would try to keep his head held high while he did. Because he wasn’t scared of some demon.

Luke barely registered the fact that he had already left the kitchen and the doors were very loudly closing behind him. He did not slam the doors, no. He was not a barbarian. The way Simeon called out to ask where he was going seemed to escape him too as his gaze set on the demon. 

All that confidence from a moment ago seemed to just vanish.

“Barbatos?” Luke’s voice came out more hesitant than he had intended to when he approached him.

The first thing he noticed was the fact that the butler seemed to be quite out of it. He acknowledged Luke with a blank look, barely even a word. Luke could not believe that he was feeling concerned for the demon. 

“Are you … okay?” 

Luke watched as the butler straightened himself up finally, taking in a deep breath. Then finally, Luke was offered a nod in response. 

“Indeed. I am just fine Luke. Thank you. My apologies if I concerned you.”

Luke’s eyes narrowed.

“As I said, I must finish my tea preparations—”

“And the mark?”

Barbatos seemed to freeze, his eyes widening just slightly. Luke wouldn’t have noticed if he had not been looking closely. The man had a poker face like no one else. His eyes seemed to want to avoid Luke’s, but they remained still, observing the young angel. It was obviously a conversation Barbatos did not wish to have.

Unfortunately for him, it was a conversation that Luke really wanted to have. 

“The mark that you left on Simeon, when you touched him. What is it? Why do you look so uncomf—”

“Luke?”

The young angel froze as he heard the voice behind him.

Simeon.

“What are you doing?” 

“Talking to—”

“Whom? There is no one here but you.” Simeon looked at him strangely, but the expression soon turned to amusement.

What?

Luke was left in disbelief. 

How did he even— Is it even possible?

The second that Luke took to turn around and look at the older angel seemed to be enough time for the butler to make his escape. Flawlessly, he just disappeared.

Gone. 

Luke frowned deeply, an unhappiness settling in his gut. He felt a hand on his back and felt obliged to follow as Simeon led him back to the kitchen. 

“Let us head back, hm? We need to finish making the dinner.” He could tell by the expression on Simeon’s face that he was concerned. And that was the last thing he wanted to do—cause Simeon more concern. 

Since they had come to the Devildom, Simeon had worried for him because of his discomfort around demons. 

“Care to tell me what happened?” Simeon questioned him as they reentered the kitchen. “You looked quite upset, Luke.” 

Luke looked up at Simeon briefly, then disappeared into the pantry to grab what he had meant to earlier. He soon reappeared. 

“Just … worried about Barbatos, I guess. He rushed out of the kitchen so suddenly. You saw it too, right?” Hopefully he could steer the conversation in a different direction. 

Barbatos had seemed scared, or shocked. It left an unpleasant taste in Luke’s mouth. But he’d need to let it go, for now.

Luke sighed in silent resignation. They needed to get back to cooking. He could question Barbatos later.

He also needed to figure out whether or not he should tell Simeon about the mark on his back. The mark that Luke would not be able to take his eyes off of for the rest of the night.

He wondered if he was imagining Simeon sending glances his way.

—

Diavolo was positively delighted at the sight of Celestial Realm fare at the large dining table in the Demon Lord’s Castle. It was still early days for the exchange program in the grand scheme of things, but the prince was confident that it was a sign of the success to come. Seated at the head of the table with Lucifer to his right, he bumped his ankle against the other man’s boot to get his attention. 

“You’ll have to tell me if it’s as good as you remember,” he said. 

Lucifer flashed his own brief smile, eyes alight. Soulmates though they were, Lucifer still tended  towards privacy for displays of affection, though Diavolo had coaxed his guard down more than once since his arrival that morning. 

We are among friends and family here, he had assured the Avatar of Pride earlier in the day. It is not as if they are unaware. 

A flash of the good old puppydog eyes had worked wonders, earning a soft laugh and an even  softer expression from Lucifer. Diavolo had not been able to help himself—he’d stolen a kiss then and there, and with a devious grin had found those ticklish spots below his lover’s ribs and given them a firm poke. The result? Perfection. Lucifer so rarely laughed unguarded, but Diavolo had learned how to slip past his defenses. It had long become one of his favourite sounds. 

Do you think they’ll be fine down there?

Mm, they’ll be alright. My brothers may be idiotic sometimes but they are not incompetent.

It had only been the sudden neutrality of Lucifer’s expression, betrayed only by the twitch of an eyebrow, that made the prince realise they had been seen. Diavolo had looked about in time to spot Simeon’s cloak for a split second, as the angel turned a corner out of sight. 

Ah, the old flame, he’d murmured. Lucifer had said nothing.

Truthfully, there was some part of Diavolo that wanted to flaunt his relationship with Lucifer in front of the other man—an urge to stake his claim, just to be sure Simeon understood that what had been in the past could never be again. But a greater part of the prince—the same part that had seen the exchange program come to fruition—also felt for the angel, and did not wish to be unkind to him. Besides, it was not as if Diavolo needed to fear that Lucifer might return to the angel if Simeon ever tried to reignite that spark. Diavolo’s faith in Lucifer was as rock-hard as his—

“Barbatos, are you feeling better?” the prince asked, interrupting his own thoughts as the butler took the seat to his left. 

Diavolo had noticed when served afternoon tea that the demon seemed out of sorts and, assuming he was agitated by certain members of the castle tour group (all of whom seemed to have survived the incident with the disgruntled portrait), the prince had suggested that Barbatos should take the afternoon for himself to rest. 

In a very un-Barbatos fashion, the butler had agreed. 

“Yes, Young Master.” 

Unconvinced, Diavolo considered pressing the matter, but the doors opened at that moment, admitting both Luke and Simeon with more food for the Celestial spread. 

“You have outdone yourselves!” the prince declared, met with a chorus of agreement from several of Lucifer’s brothers. 

Diavolo surveyed the food laid out before him. The sound of Beelzebub’s stomach and the complaints from several of the brothers that he was drooling made the prince laugh. His own stomach gave a hungry growl, too. Diavolo was extremely excited to dig in. The food looked delicious, heavenly even (pun intended).

“There’s one more dish I need to plate up, but we ran out of hands,” Simeon said, setting down the platters he was carrying. 

“How about I help?” Solomon piped up. 

“No need, no need!” Simeon said, perhaps a little too quickly. “Luke, take a seat. I’ll be back with the last dish in a moment.”

Barbatos busied himself with topping up Diavolo and Lucifer’s wine glasses before pouring a small measure for himself. If it weren’t for his strange behaviour, the prince might have thought his butler was letting loose for the special occasion. But the other demon seemed quite preoccupied with his glass as he took a gulp. Frowning, Diavolo looked around the table. Luke had taken a seat further along and seemed to be watching Barbatos with an expression somewhere between reproach and concern. Diavolo sipped his wine and glanced at the butler again. 

Is he avoiding Luke’s eye? What could have happened to—?

That was when he felt Lucifer tense up beside him. With a blink, he turned to look at the man, just as Lucifer spat out the wine he was drinking. 

What the— 

“Shit.” Lucifer stood. “I apologise, just—” 

Diavolo was bewildered. He had never seen Lucifer so frazzled. 

What could even— 

Diavolo’s gaze followed Lucifer’s. Then, for the second time that day, he caught sight of Simeon’s retreating back. His eyes widened. He grasped Lucifer’s hand, the spat wine forgotten. 

“Was that a—”

“Sh!” Lucifer hissed, planting his rear firmly back in his chair. He snatched up his cloth napkin with his free hand and dabbed up the wine.  

They had drawn attention from around the table. The prince schooled his expression and cleared his throat. 

“You’re supposed to drink it, not inhale it, Lucifer.” 

The Avatar of Pride glared at him, but squeezed his hand beneath the table. A few of the brothers snickered, then Beelzebub caved in and started heaping food onto his plate. Bedlam ensued as the others raced to load their own plates, lest the Avatar of Gluttony eat everything.

“Settle down!” Lucifer called them to order, and the chaos reduced to a simmer. 

With the attention on the food, Diavolo kept his voice low. 

“Whose soulmark is it? I only caught a glimpse.”

The prince was equal parts relieved and surprised. A soulmate would no doubt take Simeon’s attention well away from Lucifer. But the angel certainly did not have that mark this morning. 

How? When? 

Who?

Lucifer didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned forwards enough to look past Diavolo. The prince turned his head in time to see Barbatos swallow the last mouthful of his small glass of wine. 

“You?” Diavolo grasped the butler’s forearm. Barbatos seemed to pale, but the prince could not contain his excitement. “Barbatos?” 

Without another word, Lucifer grabbed the bottle and refilled the butler’s glass. 

Diavolo remained elated throughout the meal. It seemed that Barbatos was rather in shock over the whole development, and Lucifer was adamant that the prince should stop pestering the man while he was in such a state. 

But he and Lucifer were not the only ones to spot the inky soulmark on Simeon’s shoulder. The angel took a seat between Luke and Solomon when he returned with the last plate of food. Asmodeus's legs were draped over the sorcerer's lap, perched on his other side. Solomon noticed first. Subtle amusement filled the sorcerer's eyes, and he looked along the table to where Barbatos was seated. The butler's entire demeanour paired with his refusal to look anywhere beyond his plate and wine glass were confirmation enough. Diavolo watched as Solomon drew Asmo's attention, holding a finger over his own lips for a moment before casting a pointed glance to Simeon's back. Despite the indication for subtly, Asmodeus gasped with all the dramatic flair one could expect from the Avatar of Lust.

“Asmo? Is something wrong?” Simeon asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

The demon’s face was alight with glee. He grinned like a fox. Beside the prince, Lucifer cleared his throat and Asmodeus acknowledged the unspoken warning with a pout. 

“I just realised that we get to do my bedtime skincare routine together!” he bluffed with ease. “Or did you forget that we were roommates?”

Levi chuckled to himself. “Oh my god they were roommates.” 

MC choked on a laugh, but the others just gave Leviathan confused looks and resumed eating. All except Luke, who looked pleadingly from Simeon to Barbatos without either of their notice. It was clear to Diavolo that Luke had seen the soulmark too … but that Simeon himself was oblivious. A few minutes later, the younger angel pushed his plate away and stood. 

“I need to finish putting together dessert.” 

Beelzebub made a noise of excitement, still shovelling food into his mouth. 

“Would you like some help with the cake, Luke?” Simeon asked. 

“N-no, that's fine.” His voice trembled. 

Diavolo and Lucifer exchanged a look, just as Simeon did with Solomon. 

“Sounds like he's nervous about walking through the castle alone,” Solomon suggested, once Luke was gone. 

“I should really go with him so he knows he's safe …” 

“I think he's got this, Simeon. He'll get embarrassed if you coddle him.” 

“Well … I suppose.”

The prince could not be certain if Solomon really thought that, or if he had drawn the same conclusion—that Luke was perhaps not sure how to feel about his guardian's soulmate being a demon. To his right, Lucifer was holding his D.D.D. under the table while he typed out a message to Asmodeus—Do not interfere, it is not our business—while on his left Barbatos was focusing every bit of his attention on cutting a piece of meat into smaller morsels, despite barely having eaten anything.

Shaking his head, Diavolo stood and stretched, casual as could be.

“Just going to stretch my legs,” he said. 

He passed behind Simeon on his way out of the dining room, and got a better look at the soulmark. Barbatos’s sigil was unmistakable. The prince found a spring in his step as he walked to the kitchens.

Not only will Simeon finally move on from Lucifer; Barbatos might let someone close at last! 

The butler had always expressed contentment with his lot in life. He worked tirelessly, and performed every task and duty to perfection. Yet, he had remained detached, never seeming to seek close companionship beyond Diavolo and Lucifer, and even then keeping the veil of duty firmly in place, as if he needed that degree of separation. 

But that has changed recently, too. Since the exchange program began. He'd never shared his hobbies with another before Luke began baking with him. And Simeon is always there with Luke. Ha! It was meant to be! 

Diavolo’s grin widened. 

If this is not a sign of the exchange program's success, then I don't know what is.  

Arriving at the kitchen, he toned down his exuberance before opening the door. Inside, the smell of chocolate and apricots greeted him. He spotted Luke standing on a stool, spreading warm jam over two halves of a cake. His small shoulders seemed to tremble. 

“Young Luke?” Diavolo called. “I wanted to see your cake!” 

Luke gasped at the unexpected company and almost dropped his jam spoon. 

“L-Lord Diavolo!”

The prince chuckled, joining the child at the bench as Luke dashed his sleeves beneath his eyes. The warm jam was too tempting. Diavolo dipped a fingertip in the small saucepan and stole a small taste. 

“Mm! This dessert will be delightful.” 

Luke opened his mouth as if to deliver a scolding, then seemed to remember that he was talking to the Devildom's crown prince and promptly closed his mouth again. Diavolo could only smirk—Barbatos and Lucifer were the only people in the world who would scold him. He could get away with almost anything as long as neither of them found out.

“It must have come as a shock to you, no? Seeing that mark on Simeon.”

Luke's face pinched into an accusatory scowl.

“What did Barbatos do?”

Diavolo blinked. “What do you mean, Luke?” 

“I mean what did he do? I saw him touch Simeon and then that thing appeared!” He balled his fists and stood at his full height atop the step stool, though he still had to look up at the prince. “Is it some sort of curse? He wouldn't tell me, but he looked worried too, like he must have done it by accident. And I p-promise not to be too mad if he didn't do it on purpose, but if Simeon has been cursed then we have to help him. He doesn't even know yet! I want to tell him but I don't want him to be s-scared.” He teared up then, his little face going blotchy with the strain to hold it all back. “I'm scared …” he admitted, hanging his head. 

Diavolo clutched at his chest. 

“There's no need to be afraid. Now, now, don't cry,” he tried to soothe. He placed a large hand on Luke's shoulder. “You have misunderstood, Luke! It's no curse at all, and certainly nothing nefarious.”

Luke sniffed a few times and took a steadying breath. “Promise?”

“I promise! It's actually a truly wonderful thing that's happened.”

Pouting, Luke gave him an expectant look. “Then what is that mark on his back?” 

“It’s a soulmark, of course!” He beamed at the child. “I understand how you may have mistaken it for a curse though, since it's a demonic sigil. But I promise you, Simeon is in no danger.”

Luke blinked. “A soulmark?” he repeated, with what Diavolo thought sounded like incredulity. 

“Precisely!” He patted Luke’s shoulder. “So now you understand, and there's nothing to worry about.” 

Pleased to have expelled the young angel’s worries, Diavolo excused himself back to the dining room. 

Now, we just need Simeon to realise and Barbatos to recover from his shock.

What a successful exchange program indeed.