"You had plenty money, nineteen-twenty-two…
You let other women make a fool of you…
Why don't you do right…? Like some other men do?"
Michael offered a dry smile in Lilith's direction from across the bar, sighing as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back. It was their first weekend on Earth, away from Hell. Admittedly, the Devil was aching to return to his demons, to his spot on his throne. How glorious it was, having all of those little… anomalies follow his every command. It must be how God felt with all of the angels. But, unlike them, his demons had Free Will. They could come and go as they pleased; it wasn't rare for a demon to tell him they didn't want to work for him anymore, that they wanted something more than just torturing souls down in Hell. So Michael let them go. Why force someone to stay somewhere they didn't want to be? It wasn't right, not to him. Even demons deserved to choose where they went, what they did. Michael wasn't their warden.
But Lilith liked Earth. She liked performing. She was one of his best, down in Hell… Michael would hate to see her go. He sighed, tilting his head and watching as she danced her way across the stage slowly, the dress she wore hitching up on occasion and making the crowd roar. He rolled his eyes at that, and casually resisted the urge to destroy everyone in the bar. The emotions radiating from the men were indescribable, disgusting. Sure, it wasn't like Michael had never had a sexual urge in his life, and these poor creatures were only human, but either way; he hadn't come here to watch them fawn over Lilith. Though he could understand why they did.
He breathed in and sighed as the song continued, the whistles and murmurs from the crowd briefly drowning out Lilith's voice. He could obliterate these humans if he wanted to - God's 'no harming humans' rule didn't quite apply to him anymore, and honestly it wouldn't be the first time Michael killed a mortal. Adam and Eve were the first humans, but they weren't the only humans back then. They were just the ones he took an interest in. The ones he decided weren't worth the time and effort were used to fuel his twisted game of chess against his Father. Yes, he liked humans - he liked how easy they were to manipulate and control and use to his advantage. But if he couldn't do that, then he could at least have a little bit of fun with them in another way. And he considered it, flicking his gaze silently around the room. Counting the seconds, listening to the song play on, watching the men with their jaws slack and eyes open wide as they gazed up at Lilith. Practically drooling, the pitiful things. Lust. A very special sin.
Michael rolled his eyes and stood, turning to leave the bar. Lilith was great, and he loved watching her perform, but he needed to step outside and think for a bit; he caught her gaze as he left, offering her a nod and slipping outside before he could see her reaction. She'd sung for him before. He wasn't missing anything now. The Devil stretched his arms over his head and stepped outside, heaving out a gentle sigh and letting the door swing shut behind him, cutting off the music and the cheers from the crowd inside. Earth was overwhelming, he mused as he walked forward, making his way across the parking lot and fixing his gaze on the sky. Nighttime; the stars glistened brightly against the pitch black sky. There were a few new ones, he noted. Samael was busy tonight. The Devil sighed, tilting his head back and gazing upwards.
He sighed, but didn't turn, when he felt the air shift behind him, heard the familiar rustle of beating wings. He didn't even say anything, no - no matter which one of his siblings this must be, he didn't really have anything to say to any of the other angels. So he kept his eyes on the sky, thinking; they probably intended to usher him right back down to Hell, now, didn't they? Likely on his dear Father's orders, one would assume. Only natural, of course; he had been banished to Hell, not to Earth. Though he didn't quite see why he couldn't take a little break every now and again - Hell was fine, he was certain of it. The demons didn't need supervision twenty-four seven and Michael certainly wasn't worried about the souls in Hell, for that matter. He'd left Hitler in charge! What could go wrong? He was probably doing better at torturing those diabolical little pests than Michael. At the very least, he was making them suffer, anyway.
But that just wasn't enough, was it? It couldn't possibly be enough, not for his Father. He sighed again, and tried to feign a surprised expression when he finally turned around, face to face with his oldest brother. Amenadiel had… changed since the last time Michael had seen him. Wardrobe wise, anyway. He couldn't help but grin, studying the angel's dress-like outfit, but he cleared his throat and smoothed his expression out again when Amenadiel finally spoke up. "Michael, what are you doing?" His oldest brother demanded, walking forward. "You should be in Hell, not up here with humans- and you certainly shouldn't be bringing a demon with you," Amenadiel hissed, looking disgusted at the very thought. Michael arched an eyebrow.
"Demons are people, too," he mocked, running his fingers through his hair as his brother advanced. When it came down to him and Amenadiel, nobody won. Michael wasn't going to waste his energy fighting with his brother - not physically, not when he could manipulate him emotionally, mentally… the archangel heaved out a sigh and tilted his head, unconcerned. "Let me guess! Father Almighty sent you. 'Amenadiel, go put your little brother back in time out'." Amenadiel paused, and he watched his eyes flicker rapidly, trying to make sense of what Michael had said, to determine if a thinly-veiled insult toward God rested underneath the archangel's calm, almost civilized demeanor. As he expected, Amenadiel didn't even crack a smile at his little joke; he just frowned, eyebrows furrowing as his lips puckered in that familiar, irritated pout he so often wore. The thing with his brother was that he tried too hard to please their Father - whereas when it came to Michael, he had made it seem damn near effortless right up until the time Samael had been created. Speaking of Samael… "So, how is the family, bro?"
He watched the walls rush back up, his brother's guard rise once again as Amenadiel's expression shifted, hardening slightly in response to the question. Michael sighed, lightly rolling his head to the side and cracking his neck in the process. "You need to go back to Hell." Amenadiel growled, stepping forward again, and Michael made a show of sizing him up, finding amusement in the way his brother tensed, and his wings recoiled, and his stomach twisted. "Earth is no place for a celestial being, Michael," his brother warned. "Not angels or demons."
Michael rolled his shoulders back, shrugging. "Okay. Go tell Lilith that," he retorted, cracking a lazy smile. "But just between you and me, she doesn't take kindly to being told where to go."
Amenadiel curled his lips back, looking a little put-off. "I don't care about your little demon, brother," he snapped, and this time, when he walked forward, he didn't stop until he was only inches away. Michael paused and looked up at him, eyes narrowing slightly as he tilted his head back to glare up at his older brother. He might just be the second-born, but he was much more advanced when it came to fighting. His brother had strategy on his side, for sure, and Michael knew that was part of the reason he was often so good in taking the Devil down, but if he really wanted to, right there and right then, he had an opening. Amenadiel should watch himself better; he was practically opening himself up to an attack. The only thing was, Michael wasn't really keen on hurting him, on risking the declaration of yet another war against Heaven. One was certainly enough. And what would Father do to him this time? Throw him into Purgatory?
"Amenadiel," Michael sighed, pinching his eyebrows together. He leaned back on his heels after a moment, flashing his older brother a cruel smile. "I'm just having some fun, y'know. Even Hell tends to get a little dull every now and again, whether you can believe it or not." He paused, sliding a step back, and he ignored the way Amenadiel's wings puffed up, ignored the burst of pride that rushed through his brother. No, Michael wasn't intimidated, but he was sure Amenadiel assumed he had to be. He just wasn't interested in a fight. "Earth is exciting, though, isn't it? And humans are such interesting creatures," he admitted. "Father did right with them."
His brother paused and blinked at him, confusion briefly replacing his frustrated expression. The compliment was vague, but it was there, and it was noticeable enough to give Amenadiel pause. So Michael pressed on, thoughtfully, "it does make me wonder, though, why aren't we allowed to interact with them? I mean, I certainly understand the whole 'not exposing Divinity to humans thing'. If anything, you're more at risk of that…" He flicked his gaze toward Amenadiel's wings, and bit back a smirk when his brother immediately withdrew them and folded them away, looking more than flustered. "But I have no interest in shattering their world views or whatever. If anything, they're a lot better as clueless little ants. And as long as Hell is being watched over - which it is - then I really don't see a problem with my being here aside from the fact that Father wants me here, and let's face it, Amenadiel, don't you think he might just be a little biased?"
Amenadiel shook his head furiously, panic igniting in his chest. Michael watched, grinning, as he struggled with the poison that the Devil had injected into his mind, the little bit of doubt that would get the gears in his head spinning just the way Michael liked them. "Enough. Enough," his oldest brother snarled, and Michael arched an eyebrow, tilting his head and leaning back. Amenadiel took a moment to recover, to calm the emotions raging through his chest, and Michael just watched him with a smirk until his brother glanced back up at him, with a scowl. "Alright. I'll allow this little escapade of yours for now, Michael. And I'll let Father know you've refused to return to Hell for the time being. So you go ahead. Test your limits. And if you haven't satisfied your curiosity and guided yourself back by the time I decide to check in again, then I will gladly see to it that you return to your rightful place in Hell." Amenadiel stepped back.
Michael smiled slightly. "I look forward to it, big brother."
He sighed to himself as Amenadiel left, lightly cracking his neck again and flicking his gaze up to the sky. It didn't surprise him that his older brother wanted him to return to Hell; without him down there to oversee the demons and the souls, someone else clearly had to take charge. Amenadiel was next on the list. As long as Michael didn't return, someone had to take over Hell, and nobody but Michael wanted that job. Nobody but Michael could command the demons the way he did, nobody but Michael had the same influence over Hell. The Devil was brilliant in his commands, in his reign. The demons wouldn't obey anybody else, because the demons understood that obedience wasn't a requirement or an expectation when it came to Michael. No, when it came to Michael, he didn't have any expectations. And Hell had no expectations for him.
"And that's just the way I like it…" Michael grinned, reaching up to pop the collar of his suit up. He turned back to the bar silently, looking up at the brilliant neon lights flickering on the front. Flashy - which he wasn't really into, in all honesty, but he knew Lilith was. She loved the sparkling lights, the glamour, the performance. She liked being the star of the show - not because she had anything to prove, but because she had everything to show off and flaunt. She was magnificent. And she knew it, too. Michael didn't need to tell her how amazing she was, he didn't need to feed into her pride and boost her ego - but he did anyway. Time and time again, he found himself having to remind her how special she was, how fascinating, how inspirational she had been. In the beginning, she had been what inspired him to really start disobeying his Father. She was, inevitably, the only one who could rival him - but she didn't rival him at all. They were equals. He cherished her and admired her and liked her as much as he could.
And she wanted to stay on Earth. With the humans. With the spotlight. Where she was the star. She was his right hand in Hell, ruling over the souls with an iron fist at his side. But here, she broke free of that. She did her own thing, something that didn't quite connect her to him, really. Something that was just all her. It had only been a few days, but the improvement was significant. She was different. They were certainly different. A few days on Earth, with the humans and the Free Will and no responsibilities or expectations. They were free, finally. Michael didn't like to think of Hell as a prison… not for him, at least. But maybe it had never really been his home. Just somewhere God had sent him, and somewhere God was trying to push him back into. And Michael didn't like that, no - he didn't want his favorite place to be tarnished by being forced back into it. He'd go back when he was ready, when he wanted.
The Devil grinned and shoved his hands into his pockets, lazily walking toward the bar. Well, then, it was settled in his eyes. They would stay as long as they wanted. He'd give Lilith whatever she asked, allow her to build her own life on Earth. And, hey, maybe he'd join her; maybe he'd find something to do among the humans. After all, they were his favorites.
And whenever Amenadiel decided it had been long enough… well, he'd be ready. He'd be ready to bury his brother's face into the dirt and make him regret not joining him during the War.
He headed back to the bar, listening to the new song Lilith was singing.
"Welcome back," the bartender greeted as Michael stopped at his usual stool, sliding into place and lacing his fingers over the counter with a grin. "That girl of yours sure is doing some job here," the bartender noted, and Michael let out a hum and jerked his head toward the white wine on one of the shelves, turning briefly to track his gaze to where Lilith stood. She caught his gaze as she sang, slow and soft; the corners of her lips tugged upwards, eyes sparkling knowingly. And he smiled back sweetly, turning away briefly when the bartender slid a glass in front of him. "So, I don't think I caught your name, lad," he commented. "You new to the area?"
"Yep," Michael replied cheerfully, reaching out to pick the glass up and studying the liquid inside. Alcohol - another reason to adore the humans. Of course, the Devil wasn't a big drinker. He didn't quite care for getting intoxicated - not that it was possible for someone like him regardless. Not unless he drank in large amounts, and a sip of wine here and there was hardly enough to even get him buzzed. No, he drank... to participate. He'd always known humans were capable of creating beautiful things, and they had! They had built cities, empires, they'd created foods and drinks. So if Michael decided to enjoy these creations every now and again, what was wrong with that? He grinned, holding the glass up to his lips and glancing up at the human. "My name is Michael, by the way," he added calmly, and smirked as his expression shifted. "Prince."
"Like the Devil." It wasn't a question; Michael nodded, grin widening. "S'at a stage name?"
"Do I look like a performer?" Michael retorted, tilting his head back a little to down half of the glass. When he had swallowed, setting the glass down, the other man was looking at him with more intrigue than anything. He wouldn't have been the first human to be somewhat unnerved by his presence; Michael had tried speaking to a few others, but, goodness, his favorite species had become ever-so paranoid. Some of them regarded him with interest, though. Some with disgust, some with contempt. Non-believers… or maybe ones that believed too much. But those who were caught in the middle seemed to give him the benefit of the doubt, and yet their belief was still tainted by their own curiosity. They wanted to believe, but at the same time, they didn't. Humans were so contradictory… so complex, so interesting. "Actually, I guess you could say…" The Devil grinned, glancing upwards briefly. "My name is… God-given."
"Well, let me tell you something, Michael," the bartender began, crossing his arms over the counter. "I've worked here for a good ten years now, going on eleven, and I've never seen this place so busy. If anything, the past few years, our business has been spiraling a little bit."
"Lili has a way of attracting a crowd," Michael conceded, circling the rim of his glass calmly with a finger. The bartender nodded, flicking his gaze to where Lilith stood on the stage.
"How'd you like a job?"
Michael grinned, following his gaze. "Isn't that something you should ask her, pal?"
"Anyone that lays eyes on you two can see you're a package deal," the bartender replied smoothly, turning his gaze back to Michael. The Devil tilted his head and smiled, intrigued. A very intuitive human, for sure - one with a desire he couldn't quite figure out yet. He assumed it had something to do with the bar, wanting to save it, wanting more people to come. Which likely meant that he was not only just a bartender, but probably the owner of the bar itself, as well. Whatever deal he was about to strike intrigued him. "So, again - how would you like a job?"
"Oh, I don't know…" Michael sighed, tilting his head further with a grin. If he played his cards right, this guy was a cat and he had the string. "Depends on what kinda job I'd be getting."
"How 'bout bartending?" The man smirked, and Michael blinked. "I can tell you're the kinda guy who likes to stay behind the scenes. Observe," he added, looking back toward Lilith. "'Sides, bartending isn't too hard. All you gotta know is how to pour a drink and tell whiskey from wine." Michael puffed his cheeks out, looking down at the glass in his hand curiously. "Besides. You're new. Which means you probably don't have a job, and you probably don't have a place to stay."
"You've got no idea," Michael mused. "Just left a home and a job I've had for… mm, eons."
"So you help me get this bar up on its feet and I help you get up on yours."
Michael huffed out a laugh, lifting the glass to his lips to take another sip. The bartender watched him, silent, waiting for his answer, as the Devil contemplated. It was an interesting deal - one it seemed this man was certainly going to get more out of than he was. Not that he particularly minded; he knew Lilith would do anything to have the spotlight whenever he wanted it, so he wasn't really worried about whether or not she would agree. And as for him, this was just taking participation to a whole new level. He wasn't just testing out things the humans created, no, by getting a human job, he'd be living a human life. Something he'd admittedly never thought of before. Rebelling and exercising his own Free Will was one thing - but humans had that on a whole different level. And as long as he was here, why shouldn't he experiment…
"I'll talk to her about it," Michael finally spoke, looking up and setting the now empty glass down on the counter. The bartender grinned, eyes lighting up at once, and Michael smirked slightly. "Who knows, a whole new job experience… definitely not what I'm used to, for sure, but maybe it'll be fun." He rolled his shoulders back, grinning. Not only that, but now he was actively interfering in humans' lives, too. He wasn't just existing among them, he was weaving his way into their society. Oh, he could just see Amenadiel's face now. "I don't think I caught your name."
The bartender studied him for a moment, looking thoughtful, then grinned and straightened up. "Catch me once you talk to your girl, lad. We'll sort things out officially then." He tapped the counter, slid the bottle of white wine toward Michael, and turned to head over to another man. "Welcome to the City of Angels," he called over his shoulder.
Michael watched him, catching the bottle before it could slide off of the counter.
He was just about to pour himself another glass when he felt two arms wrap around him from behind, lips pressing against the back of his neck; the Devil shuddered, initially, taken by surprise at first. But he melted into the touch rather quickly, and smiled to himself as he leaned his head back into the familiar touch, letting out a quiet hum as a pair of sharp, filed nails ran through his blonde hair. "My brother visited me a minute ago," he murmured, turning his head slightly to the side as the lips trailed down the side of his neck. Lilith paused, and Michael allowed her to press her nails under his chin instead, turning his head completely to look at her. "Apparently he wants us back in Hell."
"I assume you told him off and sent him back with his tail between his legs?" Lilith murmured, pressing her forehead against his and lightly brushing their lips together. Michael grinned.
"Something like that." Michael turned in the stool to face her, and she settled herself on his lap, wrapping her arms around him. He let his hands fall onto her hips silently, curling his fingers into her dress and cracking a smile. "I basically told him I'm here because you're here and I'm certainly not going to force you into Hell - we know I'm not that kind of boss," he murmured, and Lilith laughed, leaning forward to press her lips to his neck again. The Devil hummed, leaning his head back slightly. "So he said he'd return to destroy me, blah blah blah… so dramatic…"
Lilith chuckled against his neck. "Amenadiel, I presume."
"Mm." Michael shut his eyes, his smile widening slightly. "He hasn't changed. But unfortunately for him, I have- and I'm so sick of being told what to do and where to go…" He sighed through his teeth and Lilith pulled back a little, trailing kisses up his jaw. "So, do you wanna stay?"
Lilith paused and pulled back completely to stare at him - and, while he was disappointed that the kisses had stopped, Michael couldn't help but find amusement in her startled reaction. "Stay?" She repeated, and he hummed again and nodded, arching an eyebrow. "Seriously? Here? On Earth?" Lilith pressed, and Michael nodded again. "And how long are we talking?"
"As long as you like, baby." Michael studied her, searching her gaze. "Of course, if you don't-" He cut off when she kissed him again, a somewhat startled gasp breaking through his lips as she pressed a kiss to the front of his neck. He leaned his head back slightly, breathing in slowly and letting it out in a sharp huff, almost a laugh. "I'm gonna assume you're expressing enthusiasm and not trying to tear out my jugular or something," he breathed, curling his fingers into her dress a little tighter and pulling her closer to him. "So you wanna stay, then."
Lilith groaned, trailing her lips up to his instead. "Hell yes."
"Ooh." Michael grinned. "Say it again."
"Hell yes," Lilith chuckled.
Michael opened his eyes, looking up at her for a moment. Then, just as calmly, he pushed himself to sit up a little more and pulled his face away from hers, pressing his hand to her forehead when she tried to follow after him and offering her a chiding look.
"Let's go somewhere else," he suggested, trailing his fingers down the side of her face. She smiled slightly at him in response, leaning into the touch with a mischievous look sparkling through her eyes, and he huffed out a laugh as she slid off of his lap so that he could stand. "And… discuss our futures here." The Devil smiled, pulling his hand away to wrap it around her waist instead, and he felt her arm curl around him, lightly settling a hand on his shoulder.
"Whatever it is you desire, my Lord," she murmured in his ear as he swept her toward the door, and, honestly, it was a shame he planned on returning to the bar, because with the way things were going he felt like he just couldn't get her out fast enough without using his wings.