The steady hiss of hot water filled your ears, drowning out the outside world as steam billowed around you. The heat relaxed every muscle, washing away tension and thought alike. You had the house to yourself—at least, that’s what you thought. You hadn’t heard the soft creak of the door. You didn’t notice the shift in temperature as cooler air slipped in with them.

Beelzebub moved first, soundless despite his size, his strong frame backlit by the haze. His golden eyes were focused, hungry—but not for food this time. Just behind him, Belphegor stifled a yawn, his lazy smirk curling with amusement as he watched your silhouette behind the curtain of steam.

You didn’t sense a thing until the warm space behind you shifted. A presence—no, two. Close. The air around you grew heavier, thicker, but not from the water alone.

Then a low, familiar voice cut through the mist. “You looked too relaxed to be alone.”

Your heart skipped as you turned, finding Beel standing inches away, droplets sliding down his chest, hair damp and tousled, eyes lidded with something deeper than mischief. Behind him, Belphie leaned against the tiled wall, head tilted, his expression unreadable—but his gaze didn’t stray from you.

“Beel wanted a snack,” Belphegor drawled, voice slow and velvet-soft. “But I thought you looked more appetizing.”

Beel’s hand rose to gently brush the water from your shoulder. “You smell sweet when you’re warm.”

The steam made everything more intimate—the way their breath mingled with yours, the way Beel’s body radiated heat even hotter than the water, how Belphegor’s voice sent a shiver down your spine.

You were caught between hunger and lethargy, between fire and haze.

“You should’ve locked the door,” Belphie whispered, stepping in behind you.

“Too late now,” Beel murmured, lips dangerously close.