SOULMATE ?

good they all fuckin better

“Well,”

“... I’m really glad.”

gently. 

PLEASE I AM BEGGING

Getting comfortable is easy when he can tuck himself into Fauve’s arms. Settling close and listening to the other’s breathing, feeling his heartbeat against his chest. But Fauve’s breathing doesn’t slow like it usually does, lulling Cas to sleep like it has any night that they sleep like this. It’s what keeps Cas awake. He can sense by the way that Fauve is laying, the way he’s breathing, the way his heart beats that there’s something he’s wanting to say. When the blond finally speaks up, Cas shifts, hands rubbing little circles on the other’s back as he moves to look for his lover’s face in the dark.  The statement comes as more of a surprise than Cas expects. He finds his face heating as he jolts a little, but he just as quickly tightens his grip to pull Fauve even closer. “Kids ...” He repeats, his voice soft in the dark. He’d thought about it, sure. He’s thought about being a father. But it kind of ... “... Do you think I’d be a good dad?” He asks, his voice softening further. He’s looked away, now, hiding his face in Fauve’s chest. It scares him. It would be a dream, sure, but ... He can’t help the nagging, burning fear that he’d turn out like his own father. It shakes him to his core. Having a child with Fauve ... Having a family ... That was everything he’d ever want. Everything he could ever ask for. “... I won’t turn out like him, will I?” He hesitates. “I want to. More than anything. We’ll look into it, we’ll find a surrogate, or adopt, or anything ... I just ...” 

“Haha -- well, I was pretty bratty back then ...” It’s hard to look back on, sometimes. He’d been so distraught and upset back then that he’d barely spoken to any of the rest of the Baus after his initial outburst, screaming at them because they’d saved him, but not his mother. He’d refused to speak after that, refused to really even move off the couch or from the bedroom they’d told him was his at Chance’s apartment. “I wouldn’t think anyone would love me like that either, how I was back then.” He laughs a little more, but quiets down, shifting so he can look his partner in the eye. “... But it’s the same for me. I never thought I’d love you like this. This much, this hard, this completely. You mean the world and then some to me.” He shifts again, snaking his arms around Fauve’s neck so he can pull the other in for a kiss. “I’ve always dreamed of starting a family of my own ... I couldn’t dream of anyone better to do it with than you.”

Asmodeus always says things like this with such ease, it catches Sakyo off guard. “I wasn’t gone for that long,” he chides, but his voice is gentle. Far gentler than when he responds to similar comments from the likes of Mammon, where you can nearly hear the eye-roll in his tone. He has little patience for the wasteful demon, but Asmo is a different case entirely. Sakyo had never imagined himself falling for someone like the Demon of Lust, of course -- he’d always thought himself a fairly simple man, beneath his yakuza history. Despite the pink dusting on his cheeks, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and he reaches to tuck a strand of Asmo’s hair behind his ear. “Well, I’m back now.” He’s a little glad Asmo’s brothers aren’t around at the moment -- they always seem to have something to say about the tone Sakyo’s voice takes when he’s speaking with the other. “Now now, don’t pout. What do you want to do now that I’m home?” He doesn’t even catch it himself, referring to the House of Lamentation as home now. If he had, he’d wonder when it started feeling that way, when it became so easy to consider it like that. (The demon before him likely had a lot to do with it, if he were honest. It’s easy to become comfortable in the presence of someone that stirs such feelings).