Chapter Text
Barbatos stood atop an elevated platform in the entrance area of the beach house. A palette of paint was balanced expertly on his wrist as he took care restoring the wall murals. Time and repeated cleaning had stolen the vibrancy of the colours and left the once-bright artworks bereft of life. When he and Diavolo had arrived at the beach house a week earlier, the butler had voiced his desire to bring the intricate and elegant visuals back to their former glory. The prince had not needed convincing, entrusting the task to Barbatos without a second thought.
The demon smiled to himself, recalling what the Young Master's next words had been.
"I'm so pleased that you want to do something outside of your usual duties while we're here. But make sure you still have plenty of time to relax. This is your vacation, too!"
But this was relaxing to Barbatos. Each brush stroke was perfectly measured, unhurried as he hummed quietly. The deep notes of his voice filled the entrance area, even at a low volume, as he allowed himself to be swept into the peaceful motions of the restoration. He had finished restoring the mural in the main sitting room yesterday, and gotten started on the entrance hall immediately. He did not intend to finish the entrance hall quite so quickly; the quiet week of just himself and the prince would give way to a week filled with friendship and fun, with guests due to arrive shortly. He would finish the mural in the entrance hall next time he visited the beach house with Lord Diavolo, but the rhythm of the process urged him not to put down his paintbrush until he must.
A few rooms away, in a small office, Lord Diavolo took comfort in the faint hum that carried down the hallway, assuring him of his butler's steady presence. They'd chosen to come to Devil's Coast during the reprieve of RAD-related paperwork and duties offered by the summer months. While there was still work to be done to keep the Devildom in order, the prince had worked hard to earn his holiday. He had promised Barbatos that he would not fall behind on important matters of the realm during this time off. He was close to completing the work that required his attention today, just in time for the due arrival of Lucifer and his brothers, and the trio from Purgatory Hall.
The double sliding doors that led from the entrance area to the verandah that encompassed the beach house stood open while Barbatos worked with steady hands. The day was forecast to grow warmer, but the ocean breeze was soft as it carried the unmistakable crunch of gravel under tyres to the butler's ears, announcing the arrival of the first carload of guests. A forlorn sigh escaped him as he accepted that the time had come to set down his paintbrush. Without turning from his work, he recognised Solomon's footsteps sounding on the verandah first, with Simeon and Luke's following shortly after.
"The restoration looks fantastic," Solomon declared in greeting.
He came to a standstill in the entrance hall. The demon could feel the sorcerer's eyes on his back, watching with his ever-curious gaze.
"You should see the next room over," Barbatos said.
A smile spread his thin lips as pride bloomed quietly inside him. He finished another stroke before finally resting his brush and palette on the railing that surrounded the elevated platform that allowed him to reach the parts of the mural closer to the ceiling with ease. He turned at last to face the new arrivals, only to catch them assessing his appearance with surprise. Between mural restorations and Diavolo's insistence that he takes advantage of the downtime, Barbatos had opted to wear something less formal than his usual attire. Although he would never shirk his duties, indeed, he did not look like a butler and it had brought the Young Lord pleasure to see the usually so formally presented demon dressed down.
Today, Barbatos wore charcoal grey culottes, cut at a three-quarter length, leaving his shins and ankles exposed. The hems swished around his slender legs as he moved. A cropped blouse in a dark green hugged at his ribs, leaving his midriff exposed. He had been self-conscious of displaying so much skin, but who was he to refuse the prince's encouragement that such an outfit suited his elegance so well? The sleeves were loose and flowy all the way down to his wrists, where they bunched together to hold themselves in place around his forearms; it was easy enough to push them back if he needed to wash dishes or prepare food. Today, he had even opted for a small touch of eyeliner and a subtle but defining purple eyeshadow, paired with sheer matte lip gloss to complete the look. It was no secret that he was skilled in makeup artistry, but he often felt it too extravagant to apply to himself. His job as Diavolo's servant was to stand quietly at his master's side until needed, and anticipate his needs; passively drawing attention to himself was unnecessary. Asmodeus would no doubt make a fuss about how he should wear it more often once he saw it.
"I'm sure the other room looks marvellous, but it couldn't be as stunning as you," Solomon replied, offering a hand to help Barbatos step down from the platform.
From atop the platform, Barbatos scowled down at the sorcerer. The way his cheeks reddened did not go unnoticed. Solomon smirked, patiently waiting for the butler to take his hand. Barbatos rolled his eyes and placed his hand in Solomon's palm. The sorcerer stepped closer to the platform, keeping eye contact with his pact-bound demon as he placed a hand on his hip. Barbatos braced a hand against the sorcerer's shoulder and allowed the human to lift him down with more flair than necessary. His feet met the floor with a dainty click thanks to the small heel of his sandals, but Solomon's hand did not retract. His fingers briefly glided against the butler's waist, at which point a sharp look from the demon convinced him to step back. The smirk did not leave his face.
"You have been spending too much time with Asmodeus," Barbatos said flatly.
An impish laugh was Solomon's only response, his hand cupping his chin thoughtfully as he continued to appraise the demon. Dismissing the sorcerer's clear interest, Barbatos turned to the angels. He greeted them with a small bow.
"Simeon, Luke, how are you both?"
"Waaaaaa Barbatos! You look so pretty today!" Luke yelled, his excitement evident in the way his small fists ball up as he held them up in front of his chest.
The innocent compliment caused the butler's shoulders to relax. He inclined his head towards the little angel, quietly adoring the stars in his big blue eyes.
"Thank you, Luke. I suppose you have not seen me dressed so casually before."
"You look really lovely," Simeon said, his cheeks pinching in an effort not to smile too widely.
Barbatos turned his sights on the older angel, eyebrows raised in a small gesture of surprise. The compliment itself was flattering, though not completely unexpected. However, the quiet shyness in Simeon's voice and the gentle darkening of his cheeks caught the butler off-guard. As if realising his own words, Simeon glanced away and cleared his throat, adjusting a bag over his shoulder.
"That shade of green really suits you," he added.
The demon gave a soft, low laugh.
"You are too kind." He stepped back to better address them all at once. "I've prepared separate rooms for everyone. Come this way."
Ignoring Solomon's proximity and the flutter in his own chest that had been spurred by Simeon's words, he led the trio down a hallway in the opposite direction to Diavolo's small office.
With any luck, the Young Master will complete his work before he realises anyone has arrived.
He indicated to three rooms beside each other.
"Leave your things in here and then come to the casual dining room, just off the entrance area where you came in. I'll make tea and bring out some fruit to graze on. The brothers will be arriving shortly and then we will all have lunch."
Solomon lingered in the hallway as the angels disappeared into their rooms. Barbatos turned to face him, and they regarded each other in a tense silence, which Solomon broke first.
"You always did look good dressed down a little," he said, leaning against the wall. "I don't think I've seen you outside of a RAD uniform or formalwear since . . ."
The sentence hung between them, unfinished. Barbatos trained a frown from his face and drew his shoulders back to stand taller. Even with the small heel of his sandals, he was slightly shorter than the sorcerer, but that had never stopped him from putting the other man in his place.
"I did not dress this way for you to ogle at me," he said, stepping past Solomon. "If you'll excuse me, I have work to do."
"Do you ever think about us?" Solomon blurted, turning to follow Barbatos's retreating form down the corridor. "What if we try again?"
Barbatos paused in his stride, keeping his expression and voice in check despite the dangerous Infernal aura that began to flicker around him. He turned back to Solomon with an icy smile.
"If I may speak frankly, it has been more than three centuries, Solomon. My decision to end our relationship still stands. I was under the impression that you had moved on at this point. Am I mistaken?"
The sorcerer bristled for a moment before forcing the tension away with a deep inhale and exhale. He closed his eyes for a moment, waiting for the crease of his brow to smooth out, then met the butler's eyes again.
"I'm sorry. I became nostalgic, seeing you dressed down like this. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with my lingering feelings."
Barbatos bid the dark aura gathered around him to dissipate. He gave the sorcerer a single nod in acceptance of his apology.
"The last three centuries have made it abundantly clear that we work better as friends. I would like to continue as we are now, as we have been since then."
Solomon nodded his own acknowledgement. A smirk returned to his face.
"Of course. I'll see you in the casual dining room soon," he said, turning to disappear into what would be his room for the coming week.
Barbatos waited a few seconds before retracing his steps to the entrance area and making his way to the kitchen.