Understanding Us
AO3
Ship: Solomon/Asmo
Word Count: 2952
Warnings: Mildly referenced implied homophobia/misogyny. The undertones are very light but it is there.
A/N:
Another installment of the Next Gen! AU that I made with @leviathanswingman. Solomon and Asmo integrating into the human world is definitely something that is worth exploring in this AU because it does come with a few challenges, especially in terms of socializing. They find their niche eventually, but there will always be challenges.
(Solomon is touch starved and no one can change my mind about this.)
I hope you enjoy!
Solomon forced a smile, swirling his cup in his hands as he watched his partner from across the backyard. He fit in well here, much better than Solomon did. Of course they both had their moments of bouts of odd behavior, and yet Asmo slipped into the neighborhood as a socialite with near flawlessness and perfection. He laughed like windchimes as he sipped his cocktail, gossiping and chittering away with a few of their neighbor's on the host's deck next to the grill. He looked stunning too, as he always did. The spring air appeared so much sweeter as it carried Asmo's essence.
What made it sweeter still was their child on his lap. Asmodeus was the perfect image of a parental socialite. Solomon had already heard him fantasizing about joining a future PTA meeting after speaking to a few of their neighbors who had older children. An entire bake sale had practically already been organized in the entirety of his mind for when Lilith started attending classes, and of course Asmodeus would be chaperoning field trips! Perhaps he could still make a post or two as well, after all, Asmodeus was still an influencer.
Tilting the cup in his hand again, he wondered if there was another cocktail floating out there for him somewhere. Perhaps one with blueberries or pomegranate.
“Solomon! That's not going to do you any good stayin still in your cup.”
A man clapped him on his back. Solomon had heard his name once or twice, his wife had brought over cookies when he and Asmo moved in. It had been a rough introduction, Asmo had still been a bit bristly around strangers so Solomon had done most of the talking. It went about as well as it could have with an unhappy demon in the background. Despite that, this man still seemed to hone in on Solomon at every social event. No matter how hard he tried to hide himself, he always seemed to find him and drag him out to groups which discussed subjects that Solomon cared little for. Still, Solomon forced a smile and stood a little straighter, “I'm more of a whisky man if I'm honest. I like my liquor a bit… smoother.”
“You get used to it, it's an acquired taste.”
Solomon would beg to differ.
“You're partner up there, he get you whisky? It's always nice to have your own little treats.”
Solomon had seen Asmo put back stronger drinks than whisky on a Saturday night. Solomon liked whisky, the best way to taste it was the remnants from Asmo's lips.
“We drink together, although he does know how to pick out rather divine blends,” Solomon continued to stare straight ahead, not offering the man a glance, “Sometimes we drink together later in the night after we put Lilith down.”
The man elbowed him, making the drink in his hands slosh onto his skin. It felt as disgusting and horrendous as it tasted.
There was a way this man talked about Asmodeus, a few of them talked about Asmodeus in a similar fashion. Solomon hated it. They projected their own ideas onto their relationship in a fashion that often made Solomon uncomfortable, and they liked to pry. Asmodeus confused them all, whether it be his mixture of pronouns or presentation of gender or how he fit in with Solomon and Lilith. They were much more concerned about Asmodeus’ role that Solomon thought they ought to be. Asmodeus was Asmodeus, and that should be enough.
“He get cuddly with you drunk? Scooch in real close?” it was a joke, but not one Solomon enjoyed in the slightest. It was shallow, superficial, and the implications left bile in his mouth, “Bet he's the type to get scared during horror movies too. You ever watch those and drink your whiskey?”
The man next to him was laughing as the plastic crickled beneath Solomon's finger tips.
***
“More, please.”
It was far from erotic, and Solomon craved it all the same. Asmo's caress did something to him, lit a fire deep within his cold soul. If it was taken from him, he wasn't sure how he would ever survive. Asmo's hand caressed the side of his face and moved upward to ruffle his hair.
“My Darling is so needy tonight,” the arm around his waist tightened, pulling him closer, and Solomon reveled in it. He knew his face was flushed, his body contorted to distort himself into some smaller form perfect to fit in Asmodeus' grasp. His legs tangled, arms struggling with whether to stay pressed close to his chest or to wrap around and capture the source of undying affection and attention before him.
“But that is okay,” Asmo cooed in his ear, “Because I am here for whatever he needs, whenever he wants it.”
It was like this frequently in the beginning once they started more openly expressing wants and desires. Solomon would fluctuate between a kind of aloofness and the cold void inside him that demanded to be filled. Before all of this it was easy to ignore. After all, how could you miss an experience that was forgotten to you? But once he had the tiniest taste, the switch inside of him was flipped. Nowadays the void was quiet more often than not but every now and again that craving for intimacy and affection overtook him to a point that was almost painful. Twisting his head to the side, Solomon looked up at Asmo through his lashes.
“I love you.”
The words fell short in so many ways, if only there was something more he could say, some word that fit better. One day he would find one, but for now, this would do.
Asmo's fingers continued to card through his hair, his eyes soft. His lips pressed against Solomon's forehead, “I love you too. How do you feel?”
Solomon shifted, adjusting his position and making himself feel more comfortable in Asmo's arms. The ache in his chest had lessened to a dull thud as Asmo's warmth took its place.
“Better,” Solomon said, “Luckily I have you and your love for this poor heart of mine.”
“Careful Handsome, you might have another baby if you're not careful with your words.”
Solomon laughed, “You say that like it isn't something I would like.” Asmo had passed on so much to their child. She looked so much like him and Solomon didn't doubt that what else he had passed on to her would be revealed with age. Solomon had passed on his talent with magic, that he knew, but he swore that she would never know what the void within him felt like. He would shower her in all the love and affection he could muster and assure that her days were filled with brightness and laughter.
“I know you would,” Asmo purred. God, Solomon loved that purr. The only thing better than the purrs were the chirps and chitters he made. It was all music to Solomon's ears. “You're such a good Daddy, there isn't a better man I could have accidentally had a child with.”
He punctuated each word by walking his fingers up Solomon's shoulder and tapping his nose.
All Solomon could do was smile. He kissed Asmo once. Then again. And again. He lost himself in his partner's laughter as they continued their exchange of soft kisses, completely and utterly enveloped in each other.
It was the best whiskey Solomon could ever chase, and he would gladly get drunk on it any time of day.
***
“I love what they do with the gore,” Asmo moved closer against his shoulder and it made his heart lurch, “It's so… artistic. Like a pretty little metaphor.”
“It does look like a flower if you pause it right.”
“Yes! See you get it! It's about blooming into her true potential and truths being revealed! Also I just think it was done in a very pretty fashion.” With the way Asmo squealed and kicked his feet, one might think they were watching a very different genre of film, certainly not a psychological thriller. But Solomon loved how excited Asmodeus became. It was lovely being able to discuss in depth literary analyses with his partner.
“What about you Solomon? What do you think?”
“What do I think?”
“That is what I asked.”
Solomon glanced back at the screen, intertwining his fingers with Asmo's as he thought. “I think it's about an acknowledgement of all parts of yourself, the good and the bad of human nature, that sometimes the more horrendous things can be masked with beauty and that escaping it in itself can be brutally terrifying, but there is beauty in escaping and gaining your freedom.”
Asmo used the tips of his fingers to turn Solomon's face towards him, his feather light touch on his skin sending shivers up Solomon's spine. “Beautifully put.”
Her finger tips traveled down Solomon's neck, tracing along his carotid artery, “Most people forget about the horrors often faced in order to reach that pretty little ending. When perfection is mistaken for beauty, some tend to turn volatile in their blindness.”
“You would know that.”
“So would you.”
“It's not easy to forget.”
“Would we want to?”
A few minutes of silence lingered between them, Asmodeus’ fingers dancing over his heart before gripping the fabric of his shirt and pulling him in.
“I wanted to go back to the Celestial Realm more than anything,” Asmodeus whispered, “I'd almost forgotten why I left.”
His fingers ran throughSolomon's hair and down his back, lulling him into a security. He let out a sigh and wrapped his arms around his lover. Asmo's scent filled his lungs as he inhaled, and a sense of completeness watched over him.
Asmo's eyes were once again fixed on the television, his grip on Solomon tightening.
“I'm glad she got her freedom.”
***
Solomon hummed, his eyelids lowering.
“Well? Do you?”
Another jab came at him from the side. It was taking all Solomon had not to let his agitation show. For the first time since their interaction began Solomon turned to him, a wide smile spread across his face.
“You don't know anything about my partner nor myself, and I think I like having our little mysteries,” If he were a worse man, he'd curse him now, “It keeps a certain spice to life, wouldn't you agree?”
Solomon didn't allow him to say another word. He dumped the vile liquid on the ground, stepping out of the way of playing children, and made his way up the deck steps. That man could speculate as much as he wanted, as could the rest of them, but unless they treated Asmo with dignity and respect when they thought he was out of earshot they wouldn't get a word out of him.
Asmo hadn't seen him approaching, in fact, he was still enraptured in conversation when Solomon approached him. A soft noise of surprise left him, a chirp. Solomon kissed where his jaw met his neck and then allowed himself to settle.
“Oh hello Darling! Coming by to say hi?” Asmo asked, leaning into Solomon. His warmth radiated to Solomon’s core and his hair smelled dizzyingly of the sweetest roses.
“How could I ever stay away?”
He took one of Asmo’s hands and placed kisses from his wrist to the tips of his fingers. A soft flurry of noises rose up and fell just as quickly as they appeared.
“What did I tell you?” Asmo chirped, looking around the table, “He’s a perfect model of a gentleman.”
“He is,” a woman crooned, “All you’re missin is a ring honey.”
“You’re gonna get me a pretty ring right Sol?” Asmo asked, batting his lashes. His voice was overperforming. Words dragged out in an exaggeratingly sweet manner as he cozied up to him. If only they knew how Lilith had come into the world.
“The prettiest, if I can have a sip of your cocktail.”
WIthout a word, Asmo lifted the pretty drink to his lips. Solomon could have groaned. Finally, something that didn’t taste like piss. Why take the enjoyment out of life by taking the pleasure of consumption away? Why ingest something horrible when perfection was a few yards away? Asmo set the glass back down onto the table and relaxed once again into their previous position.
“Thank you my Darling.”
Asmo hummed in response, content to let Solomon recharge his dwindling social battery. This was a game they often played at gatherings. For some reason or another, the same group of men would find themselves flocking towards Solomon, trying to get him to engage in one draining activity or another. Eventually Solomon would escape towards Asmodeus and allow himself to relax. He was more interested in the conversations Asmodeus was a part of anyways. If there was one thing his demon excelled at (well… one of many) it was honing in on interesting gossip or picking up key information that others let slip past their lips.
His fingers toyed with Lilith’s hair, it was soft and wavy, and Asmo had placed a little pink bow in it. Asmodeus loved toying with their daughter's hair. He absolutely delighted in it, seeing all of the different stylings that could be accomplished. She always looked so cute too, Asmodeus made sure she was the pinnacle of cuteness.
“How about I take her for a while?”
“I’ve got her.”
“I can take her inside and reapply her sunscreen, it’s getting hot,” Solomon continued, “Besides I want to make myself a drink.”
It didn’t take anymore convincing for Solomon to have their daughter in his arms as he walked into the house, a deep sigh left his lips. “Oh Lilith, what am I to do?”
Lilith babbled in response, blowing bubbles out of her mouth and grabbing for Solomon’s hair. “Ah, wise words from a wise young lady,” he shifted her weight to his hip as he looked at the counter full of mixing ingredients, “Now, let's make a good drink.”
Fortunately he spent the rest of the time in the kitchen talking to Lilith about everything and nothing. She was delightful company, always was. They could have a much better social event than whatever was happening outside, and when temperatures would eventually continue to rise they wouldn't be the ones melting. In every possible way, this was a much more favorable outcome in his books. Fortunately for him, no one else came in for however long he had decided to wander around. That was, until familiar heels clicked on the linoleum. Solomon had started making his second drink, explaining the elegancies of a wyvern’s bone structure to an enthused Lilith, when Asmo entered the room.
“You ready to head home?” he asked, hip cocked against the doorway.
“Are you done socializing?”
“They all started fixating on how I have a year old baby and no ring, so yeah I think I’m done,” Asmo said, “It’s a shame, they can’t seem to understand why I trust you to not leave me.”
Solomon snorted as he lifted the newly mixed drink to his lips. Asmo seemed to be matching his annoyance. It was concealed just enough, if Solomon hadn’t known Asmo for as long as he had or as intimately as he did, he might have missed it, “It seems to be challenging for some of them to understand us doesn’t it?”
“You mean your new friends don’t understand you?” Asmo teased.
Solomon choked, “God, I don’t know why they flock to me.”
“You’re an intriguing man Darling,” Asmo tilted his chin and pecked his lips, “And the cost is exhausting.”
It wasn't just that. They both knew it. They knew it was Asmo's perceived femininity. The fact that he enjoyed it when Solomon referred to him as “his girl” or “his princess” and that sometimes she preferred she. The fact that his makeup and nails were constantly well maintained. That Asmodeus enjoyed skirts and heels just as much as slacks and flats. It was easier to digest Solomon for them because in their eyes he fit their definition of masculinity more closely even when his nails were occasionally done. It didn't matter what Solomon felt about his own identity, what mattered to them was how they viewed him, and the way they viewed both of them was in strict little boxes.
Asmodeus was masculine and feminine and everything in between and every point in the spectrum. They would never know how safe and comfortable Solomon felt in his arms, or how his lower registers would send shudders up his spine just as his higher ones would inspire a similar yearning desire. No matter what form or what presentation, Asmodeus was Asmodeus his love and his muse.
He who inspired him and filled up the aching void in his chest.
She who held him until the loneliness once again drifted away into nothing.
They were his comfort, his everything, his dearest love.
“So, what do you say? Let’s go home, put Lilith down for a nap and we can cuddle up and watch a movie on the couch? We can even make a lil charcuterie board.”
“You know exactly how to entice me, Dear One.”
“And that’s why I’m yours.”
His.
The word made his heart lurch and ache in the best of ways. How it made him yearn for his partner in the deepest recesses of his very soul.
Oh Solomon could not wait to be home and have those pretty fingers tracing shapes on his skin and his voice whispering such sweet things in his ear. The comfort and familiarity of his lover’s embrace was worth more to him than anything else this world had to offer.