#(x. asmodeus threads)

Asmodeus gave a wide toothy grin, the smile lighting up his whole face. “Lucky guess, or maybe I’m just really good at reading people.” A small shrug followed as he slid his body onto the stool that had previously been occupied by her reason for needing a drink. “I saw that asshole from over there,” he pointed across the room, toward the other bar area. “It looked like he was giving you a hard time…hence needing a drink.”

The blood was annoying, sticky and reeking of iron. His hands scrubbed against one another, trying in vain to wash the evidence down the drain before Lucas made his way into the bathroom. From the sound of the footsteps, it wasn’t likely that he would succeed. “Before you freak out…” He began speaking even before he laid eyes on his companion. “It’s not my blood.” Rivulets of pink water ran down the drain as Asmodeus scrubbed until he was content with the light stain on his skin. “And yes, he deserved it.”

Months had passed since he told Lucas that he was in danger, and those months had been filled with one angel after another attempting to claim the prestige of ending Lucifer’s life. Protecting him, though? It wasn’t something Asmo had ever dreamed himself doing.

And yet…

His foot hung over one end of the sofa, body angled so that he was lounging and taking up as much space as possible.  Eyes tracked Lucas’ movement across the room, a dreamy smile on his face as he watched the fallen prince of hell’s every step. Still, there was a slight nagging feeling of guilt tickling the back of his mind, the knowledge that there were those that sought to do the Morningstar harm. Once upon a time? Asmodeus might have been one of them, but now? Now, he wanted nothing more than to see that soft, seductive smile and to hear his say his name without the derision or snide sarcasm that it once held.

“I know your secret.”  Sing-song words, barely a whisper flitted out between them, though there was no threat or maliciousness in his tone. It was said with the same scandalous tone that one might accuse someone of having a crush. Fingers toyed with the straw in his glass, the same simple movement he’d been replicating since he sat down at Noah’s table a few minutes before. “You don’t have to be afraid, or run, or say that I’m out of my mind…” Though that last part was likely debatable, given who Asmodeus actually was.

“And who are you to command me?” Asmodeus tsked under his breath as if he were reprimanding the other demon, though the tone remained teasing. “While I do enjoy a good stalking game from time to time, I’m afraid that this is a complete coincidence.” It was – mostly. He had been meaning to check in on Kayl for sometime, but had always found other things that kept him busy. “We’re demons, Kayl…causing trouble is coded into the very nature of who we are.”

Fingertips trailed over cloth-covered furniture, the sensation heightened by the knowledge that people were staring. Asmodeus didn’t stop, didn’t engage anyone in conversation, but there was a small – almost innocent – smile on his face as he passed by. It was as if he were lost in his own thoughts instead of hyper-focused on every movement, every whisper. Only those who knew and recognized him as a prince of hell would understand that the smile was for show, the feigned innocence nothing but a façade that hid something darker and more calloused.

Eyes lit up the second he sensed the other man’s presence. There were a thousand things in the human world that Asmodeus didn’t understand, and this particular creature was the one currently capturing his attention. He smelled different, better, than the humans who sucked every living inch of the earth bone dry. If Asmodeus were a cat, curiosity would have long ago killed him, but it was not in his nature to feel fear. On the contrary, steps quickened, leaving him to drop casually into the seat across from his newly acquired interest.

Elbows rested on the table, hands steepled under his chin as he watched the man with rapt fascination. There was no sense in playing coy, despite the smile on his face. He knew there was something otherworldly going on and would assume the man would be able to guess that he, too, was not as he appeared. “I don’t know what you are,” he said, pointedly – voice low enough that the conversation could be kept between the two of them. “And it’s very rare that I meet something I don’t understand. Angels. Demons. Even those filthy vampires. But you…you are something else.”

His smile was liquid velvet, dark eyes sparkling as he sat down across from his visitor. Fingers slid a glass of red wine across the table, despite the fact that it hadn’t been requested. His own was brought to his lips, curiosity evident in the gaze he directed at them. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” In fact, he hadn’t expected to see that face in a place like this at all. Still, it wasn’t an unwanted visit – on the contrary, Asmodeus was all too pleased to be in their company. “Did you come to place bets on the fight tonight. If I were you,” he leaned in conspiratorially, as if he knew something he shouldn’t. “I wouldn’t bet on the big guy. You know what they say…the bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

Unless, of course..