Work Text:
Azazel turns off the lights of the bathroom and quickly makes his way to his room, swinging its door open as if his life depends on it.
It does, he thinks.
He's got a towel wrapped around his body, his wings folded beneath it, and another one around his hair, but what he also has is an unimaginably annoying headache and levels of tiredness that are threatening to make him pass out at any moment.
God, why can’t demons just hibernate for, like, 4 months?
He sits down on a chair near his wardrobe, fighting to keep his eyes open while turning on his air conditioner, before taking a glance at his phone and noticing a message notification from half an hour earlier.
Cain: hey, we’re gonna play some games in a bit, wanna join?
Azazel groans at the notion of even having to respond, even if he just has to type one message or two. A part of his brain is begging him to just go to sleep, while another is telling him ‘you’ve already opened it, you can’t leave him on read.’
That’s the part that always wins in these sorts of situations; he basically never fails to reply to a message, even if late.
Az: Sorry, I was taking my 3rd shower of the day
Az: I’m too tired anyway, can barely do anything RN
Cain: wait, 3rd? how hot is it over there?
That first part of his brain sighs, realising what’s coming.
Az: There’s, like, a 20° difference between my room and the outside
Az: I feel like one of these times I’m gonna leave my room and just instantly collapse
Cain: lol
Cain: i mean, sorry you’re going through that dude
Az: Don’t worry, I’ll live through this damn hellfire!
Az: Or at least you and everyone better hope I do.
Az: Given that if I die I’m taking all of you with me
Az: My pride will not allow me to be the first to go
Az: And, has that game session finished already?
Cain: i mean, technically
Cain: we’re not playing games anymore but we are on call
Cain: just kinda talking about shit
Az: Cool, unlike the temperature
Az: Me over here, I’m in Dante’s ninth circle
Cain: I think you might be exaggerating just a little bit
Az: .
Az: The entire back side of my shirt is a darker shade
Az: My mattress basically turned dark grey from white
Az: Couldn’t get around to washing it so it smells like shit even if I flip it and use the other side
Az: Definitely not sleeping in my room now
Az: I might just have to sleep on the kitchen floor
Cain: did you not have your AC on last night?
Az: It was literally 21° yesterday
Az: So I didn’t feel the need to
Az: Then I woke up to my bed being a fucking makeshift summer pool of sweat
Az: And my hair is just sticking to my shoulders and UGH
Az: Now I’m gonna have to keep my AC on all the time
Az: And the electricity and water bills are gonna cost more than Samson and Maggy’s surgeries combined
Cain: damn
Cain: you did choose to keep your long hair in the summer though
Az: I LIKE IT AND I DON’T CARE IF YOU DON’T
Az: END OF DISCUSSION
Cain: wow okay geez
Cain: i was just pointing that out
Cain: but i mean i do hope you endure this
Cain: it’s snowing over here so i don't have much advice
Az: I’m jealous
Az: Can we swap bodies?
Cain: if body swapping was possible then Samson and Maggy wouldn't have needed those surgeries don’t you think?
Az: Well yeah
Az: Life is unfair
Az: Cause you and Judas do whatever in the snow
Az: Kiss probably
Cain: okay
Az: While I have to withstand all this heat AND humidity
Cain: dude
Cain: you know what, scratch those prayers
Cain: i hope you die
Cain: i hope you die of heatstroke
Cain: and then i'll have your body flown to fucking Ushuaia or something
Cain: and then dumped into a river
Cain: so your spirit in heaven gets hypothermia
Az: Wait no, not that
Az: Anything but heaven
Cain: ha
Cain: anyway, we should stop talking now
Cain: i should probably be focusing more on this call and you should probably be getting some sleep
Az: Spot on actually
Az: Good night, Cain
Cain: good night, sweet prince
Az: What the fuck
Az: I’m not dead yet
Cain: i never said you were
Az: Yeah but
Az: That's something that's said when someone dies
Cain: i mean it more literally though
Cain: like, good night, sweet prince, right?
Cain: cuz, you know, you?
Az: Well I’m not a prince
Az: Also not exactly sure where you got “sweet” from
Cain: well you’re quite special
Az: Yeah, I get told that a lot
Cain: no i mean you’re not like normal people
Az: Well gee, Cain
Cain: no
Az: You know, you’re a lot like my parents
Cain: STOP
Cain: stop
Cain: sorry
Cain: i just mean like
Az: Like?
Az: Cain you’ve been typing for like 3 minutes
Cain: yourea de,on oayk
Az: Mhm
Cain: almost everyone else is a human
Cain: and youre really elegant
Cain: and a lot of people think youre pretty ahd handsome an beautiful
Cain: so youre like aprince in that regad
Cain: also Laz and Beth and Isaac all have descriibewd you as “sweet” before
Az: Well Cain I’m very flattered
Az: But I feel like all of you guys’ perception of me would crumble if you were to look at how I’m doing in school
Az: Also, you need to work on your quick typing skills
Cain: no i’m good at it
Cain: i was just under pressure trying to deal with both you and the call
Az: Sure
Cain: anyhow, go to sleep
Az: Okay
Cain: ciao
Az: Chau
Azazel puts his phone down and sighs. Text messaging has definitely helped to keep him awake and he can now actually keep his eyes open. That will be good in the short-term—also known as ‘now’—but will be bad in the long-term (also known as ‘in a couple of minutes’).
He’s really not looking forward to having to wash his bed, and everything that that entails; to having to sleep somewhere other than on his bed; and to these upcoming months in general.
Get me out of here but also don’t because I love it but also please get me out of here.
I’m gonna have to either never leave my room or have to take at least 3 showers every day, which also includes washing my hair.
Tying my hair is annoying but having it untied sucks.
There’s gonna be so many fucking insects.
Instead of continuing to think about the misery that awaits him, Azazel just lets it all out in a massive groan, though he abruptly cuts it off and covers his mouth with his hands when he feels Brimstone making its way up his throat.
He then realises that that was stupid and he very well could have blasted his own hands off and groans again.
Dumb, stupid fucking sleepy brain. These months will be hell on Earth.
He’s glad he was at least able to vent out his frustrations to a friend.