Somewhat troubled, Belial seeks out Yukimura. Drama, I-3

Belial found Seiichi on the roof of his own house, watching the sky from a
nest of pillows and blankets.

"Here to watch the stars, Hatter-san?" Seiichi asked, after a moment,
not looking around.

When Belial didn’t answer, he looked. "Hatter-san? Come out."

Belial took a few steps out of the shadow, not far enough to show hir face.
Apparently, it was still too many, because Seiichi stood, frowning, and came
to hir. He took hir face between his hands and gave hir a long, searching
look before taking hir hands and leading hir back to his pillow-nest. "You’re
here now; come watch for a while," he said, tugging Belial down.

Se still wasn’t beyond being surprised that someone who fought so fiercely
could be so gentle, and se gazed up at Seiichi’s face as he curled up beside
hir and propped his head on one hand. Belial had no idea what hir face might
be showing, but whatever it was made Seiichi smile. He ran his fingers through
hir hair, dislodging today’s small, round hat.

"You’ve spent a lot of time and energy courting me, working to gain my
willing compliance to go along with my binding signature," he said,
softly. "Is it so hard to believe that you’ve won me?"

The pleasure of hearing Seiichi say it out loud was promptly followed by the
confusion that had set Belial to wandering so restlessly this evening. "Won
you… and yet you haven’t left them," se murmured, trying out the taste
and shape of the words. Just how much room did hir human have in his heart?

"No, I haven’t," Seiichi agreed, brushing hir cheek with the backs
of his fingers. "I don’t leave those I care for. I won’t leave you,
either." He laughed, barely a breath in the night air. "After all,
aren’t souls immortal?"

"They are." To stay with hir, to not leave hir… The idea tugged
at hir even more sharply than the glowing clarity of Seiichi’s soul. Belial
belonged to Lucifer-sama, there was no question about that. But se was having
trouble denying any longer that Seiichi had gained a claim on hir also; at
least he seemed willing to share. Se reached up to thread a hand through
his hair, like ink marking hir fingers in the dark. Se drew him down to hir,
and he smiled, coming willingly, folding the brightness of his presence around
hir like wings.

"Have you ever lost?" se murmured against his lips.

"Very rarely," he replied before opening his mouth to hir kiss.