Polyamory is so much fun to write.

Why court only one Horseman?

Real talk, this is totally an excuse to use my favorite kissing headcanons and mess around with time jumps/ perspective. I think it turned out pretty good for a first attempt! But, hey.

Plus I just really love writing queer / LGBT characters. It makes me happy.

This is not in the same universe of DDCT but if you wanna imagine it is, go right ahead!

And as always, Have a fantastic day! !

After the Revival you settled down in an itty bitty apartment on the east coast, one with a view of the ocean and enough room for yourself and a dog you named Dean. He's a tiny little thing, and his fur gets everywhere, but it takes the edge off of knowing you'll never see your family again.

You do, however, get to see them fairly regularly. It started as just War, which makes sense given the (horrible) journey to two of you went on. He came just to check on you, but ended up staying most of the weekend.

You relished in the opportunity to befriend him without the constant threat of being murdered, and his expressions when introduced to human things are just great. A lot of stuff you consider mundane render War speechless. Not that he talks much anyway.

You've noticed that he's... Different since the Revival. Quieter. It's not a bad thing though, because you think he's happier now. He smiles more, that's for sure, and sometimes he'll even pet Dean (who annoys him something fierce despite the pup's unwavering affection).

You've ended up with a job as a bookkeeper for one of the local businesses, thankfully something that allows you to choose your clothing and therefore hide the scars marring your frame. No one said surviving was easy, after all. Sometimes when War visits he'll trace the marks, a look on his face that says I'm sorry. You make sure to be extra cheerful those days; sometimes it works and other times you'll resort to snuggling.

It wasn't more than a year before he went AWOL though, and after another month crawled by without a visit you were lowkey freaking the fuck out.

And then Fury showed up at your door, in full armor and eyes glowing brightly. "Hello." She said, a slow smile appearing. "So you're the human."

You ushered her in without another word, glancing down the hallway anxiously. It had taken quite a while to explain to her that your name is not, in fact, The Human, and no, she can't walk around like that in the middle of the day, and an even longer to retell your side of the journey.

By the end of the night, she seemed convinced you're what's got War 'in such a state' and then proceeded to thank you. You laughed it off, but she seemed to honestly believe it.

Who knew Horsemen were so... idealistic?

Death was the next to pay you a visit, with War was at his heels. That set you a little on edge, if you're honest. The only reasons you could find were either that War wanted to keep you in line, or to keep his brother in line.

It went pretty well though, and the next time Death payed you a visit you spent most of the day sassing each other and baking. At one point he had asked rather accusingly, "Is this what the third Kingdom does all day? Make saccharine pastries?" And you stopped frosting mid circle to shove a cupcake in his face.

He was almost too startled to be angry. Almost.

Thankfully both Dust and Dean decided to intervene before he could start making treats on your life, and upon hearing Dean's name, Death asked if you kept the pattern purposely. Apparently your flustered state was enough to let you off the hook.

He comes by less than the others, although he usually stays longer too. While the others will stay between two or three days, he'll hang around for a week most of the time. You think he considers visiting you his 'vacation time' from being a big bad now leader of the Horseman. He's got a lot of work after the mess that came with the premature EndWar and the Council's betrayal.

Strife appeared shortly after Death, and by 'appeared' you mean quite literally. One minute you were struggling to unlock your door while balancing a ridiculous amount of bags on each arm, and the next Strife was opening your door and asking, "Can you be any slower?"

It really shouldn't have shocked you as much as it did that a Horseman could break into your home. It also shouldn't have shocked you when that particular Horseman was the one to bring up your lack of dates, a few years after you began having 'sleepovers' with them on a regular basis.

"Ha!" You cheer, watching your shared character fall to their death onscreen. "My turn, ya fricken loser."

He snorts in amusement, and passes you the controller. "Rude. Is that why nobody else is ever here? You shove them away with your harsh words?"

"Yes, because 'loser' is such a bad word. Not a curse has ever left that mouth of yours." You roll your eyes. "And I do have friends. I went to a Halloween party just a few weeks ago."

"You don't have a lover." He prompts, his voice becoming oddly serious.

"I've got you guys." You respond simply, keeping your eyes on the screen. "...Plus, how would I explain you to my hypothetical romantic partner? 'Oh, don't worry, babe, the Horsemen of the fricken Apocalypse basically live with me. It's all good'?"

This makes Strife crack up, his arms wrapping around you as he laughs. "Don't worry, they're sorta friendly." He badly imitates your voice, struggling to catch his breath. "Fuck, that'd be hilarious."

"Not to mention explaining how we met. 'Sorry I didn't mention this before, but I sorta helped save the world, and I'm also from a parallel universe not even the Tree Of Life connects to.'" You continue.

"By the way, I'm a fuckin demon slayer." Strife adds through his laughter.

It's rare to see even Strife like this (who is arguably the most cheerful of the Horseman), all carefree. Your game ends up being completely forgotten as you laugh along with him, pressing your face into his shoulder. His grip is nearly crushing, but you don't think much of it.

You do think a lot of things when he tilts your face up and kisses you right then and there, but most of them are just okay, you can do that again. He kisses you brashly, one hand cupping your cheek affectionately. The angle is pretty awkward, you'll admit, but neither of you care enough to move. He's careful at first, like he isn't quite sure how to properly kiss a human.

You're, of course, the first to run out of air, and in pulling away you see Strife's brilliant smile. He's so fucking smug and for some convoluted reason you love it.

Strife seems to like your deer-in-the-headlights expression even more than your joke, and it sends him into a another peal of laughter.

Oh, goodness gracious. That was unexpected.

The telltale noise of your character dying is what brings you back, and you hiss indignantly when Strife reclaims the controller. "Hey! It's your fault I died!"

"I didn't hear any complaints." He chuckles, shifting until you're more or less in his lap.

"I'm complaining right now!" You shoot back. You will admit its pretty hard to sound absolutely furious when you're really not. You're mostly just mildly annoyed. The kiss seems almost insignificant really, now that you're not reeling. Its just a kiss, and it's not as if that changes anything. Like you said: you've got them.

This becomes even more obvious when you admit to War that Strife kissed you, and his eyes do that brightening thing they do. You've seen it with the other Horseman of course, but it seems more pronounced with War. Maybe it's the color.

"...are you okay with that?" He finally asks, and you struggle not to laugh at his purposefully casual language. He's trying, he really is.

"Yeah. As long as you are, I mean. And Fury and Death, although I haven't talked with them yet. They've been busy." This really isn't now you expected this visit to go, but its preferable, honestly.

"Angel negotiation. Death is intimidating and Fury is clever." He says flippantly. You recognize the look on his face as his 'I'm thinking' expression, and turn your attention to your phone. You've got two more lives in Pokemon shuffle to use up.

"I..." Your head snaps up as he begins again, watching him expectantly. Thankfully War is comfortable enough with you not to be perturbed by this. "I am fine with sharing." He says the word cautiously, as if that's not quite what he's searching for but it's close enough to suffice. "As long as I do not learn the details." His lips pull back and you laugh. Oh.

"Oh, god, you might wanna mention that to your siblings, honestly. I wouldn't have the nerve." You assure him.

War nods without a smidgen on humor, his serious face back in place.

Deciding that's not really the expression you'd like, you tease, "Are you gonna start kissing me too then, or what?"

He rewards you with a smirk, one hand (the metal one, of course) reaching over the table to brush your hair back. "I take pride in being marginally more patient than my brother."

"As if I met the two of you at the same time," You respond with a snort, leaning into his palm. "You're a nerd."

He doesn't respond, and exactly three weeks later he greets you with a fierce kiss that you are more than happy to receive. His kisses aren't like anything you've ever experienced, all raw emotion and bruising force. Granted, he's probably being very gentle compared to what he could do, but still.

Dean barks irritably when you don't immediately part and you're grinning as you pull away to assure your dog, "Yes, it's War, I know, thank you." Dean fancies himself the protecter of the home.

War's eyes are brighter than you've ever seen when you turn back to him. "So. Movie night?"

He just laughs, and you know without a doubt everything will be okay.

Fury is even quicker to agree with the whole polyamory thing, and immediately pulls you into a sugary sweet kiss that melts into surprised laughter. "Anxious much?" You tease. "Have you been planning this?"

Her claws dig little pinpricks into your hips and she smiles radiantly. "Of course. I was simply waiting for encouragement. You do realize Strife would not cease bragging about how starstruck you appeared?" She says something in the nephilim language in what you recognize as her 'Strife voice', obviously mocking him.

"Hey, there. Don't be rude while you can be kissing me." You scold lightly.

Fury only responds with more snark, going as far as to make finger guns to make her imitation more accurate (which is so un-Fury-like you choke on your laughter). You even recognize a few words, although they're mostly nicknames the Horsemen sometimes use. So she's making fun of you and Strife.

You can't handle it when she switches back into english, and end up leaning heavily against her as you laugh. Goodness gracious, do you love these Horsemen.

Fury presses another kiss to the crown of your head before informing you, "Death will be here within the next few days. I wish you the best of luck with him."

You raise an eyebrow, "I assume he already knows the score?"

"Of course. What did you say when Strife asked about a lover? 'I've already got you guys'?" She asks, kissing your nose this time.

"...Close enough." You say slowly, waiting.

Fury doesn't disappoint, and reclaims your lips with a pleased hum. Her lips are, unsurprisingly, softer than her brothers' but no less unyielding. She kisses you slowly, and all attempts to be impatient are met with her claws pricking your waist.

Which totally does not send shivers down your spine. Because you definitely don't like it.

Who the hell are you kidding, you love it. You're dating the Horsemen. Or, three out of four, so far.

It doesn't take long for that number to change.

Death arrives two days after Fury departs, although it's Dust and Dean who greets you as you drag yourself home from work. The payroll program had glitched out for some reason (which is a total bummer, because you designed the thing) and your hands are aching from doing everything by hand.

"Yes, hello." You laugh, letting Dust perch on your shoulder as you yank your shoes off. Which is quite the challenge given how big he is. You assume Dean returns to trying to win Death over when he makes a break for it, and you snort in amusement.

"What a fuckin traitor, right, Dust? Didn't even wait for pets." You raise your voice as if Dean will hear.

The crow squawks in agreement, nudging at your cheek insistently. Thankfully he knows better by now than to try pecking at you. You give him scritches as you make your way to the kitchen and put the kettle on.

You barely pop into the living room to ask Death, "Can you make sure the kitchen doesn't burn down while I take a shower?"

"Hello to you too." He says dryly.

"I'm taking that as a yes." You run back to your room and shoo Dust off your shoulder before jumping into the shower. You take a fair amount of time to get all clean and just relaxing, but Death is still where you left him when you return. The only difference is the cups on the coffee table in front of him, and your pets curled up in one of the blankets. They've got it all twisted up like a nest, but you can't find it within yourself to complain.

About the bird, anyway.

"You'd think the savior of the waking world would be ridiculously wealthy or something." You huff, collapsing half on the couch and half on Death. "I mean, I fought heaven and hell for these people."

The Horseman, at least, doesn't protest as you lean heavily against him, only lifting his arm so you can get comfier. After you're all settled he puts it back down, heavy on your shoulders but not unwelcome. "You'd think you would treat the Eldest Horseman with more formality."

You just snort. "Yeah, okay. I had to write all the checks by hand today."

"Why?" He responds, reaching for his coffee. Black, of course. You scrunch your nose up.

"Because my program decided to fuck me over. I don't know what's wrong with it either! It's been fine for what? Three years now? Unless one of the others messed with the code, which would be super annoying." You growl.

Death nearly chokes on his coffee, unable to keep a straight face throughout your little temper tantrum. He's actually much more expressive than you would've assume, but you theorize that's because after wearing his mask so long he forgets people can actually see his expressions now.

"It's been closer to four years since the Revival." He finally says, glancing down at you.

"Huh. I've known War for almost five years then, right? Holy crow." Your eyes to wide.

"I suppose it seems like much longer for a human than we Horsemen." He notes, returning his attention to his coffee.

You shrug. "I'm like ninety percent sure I'm not aging anymore anyway, so it doesn't matter. It's just... Weird, you know? We still don't know what brought me here and... Sometimes I miss my Earth." You had started noticing the lack of changes a few months ago, when one of your semi-sober friends was introducing you at a party, claiming 'I've known 'em for years, right? Hasn't changed a bit!'

After noticing it though, you've been forced to admit it is sorta weird. You're just... Frozen. Although you can scar, as the demons were so eager to reveal for you. Assuming that it started as soon as you arrived.

Death taps your shoulder to get your attention again, apparently noticing your spaced out expression. You raise your eyebrows.

"I can... Sympathize, although the nephilim never had a permanent location." He says it hesitantly, like he always does when you talk about the nephilim. He never talks about them when the other Horsemen around, and you're not sure why he trusts you enough to share, but you figure the reason doesn't really matter.

"Home ain't a place, Death. It's like... A feeling." You grab your own cup, finding it made just the way you like. Death is anything but unobservant. "But speaking of feelings..." You cast Death a self-satisfied glance as you sip your drink.

"Ahhh, yes." He snorts. "You've monopolized the conversation between my siblings lately."

"Scandalous." You laugh.

"Indeed. Strife won't stop reminding the others he was the first and how startled you were." He seems amused, honestly. Better than the alternative. "And Fury claims she 'did the best job kissing you senseless'."

You blink. "She's only been gone two days. And I was not senseless!"

"News travels fast." He smirks.

"Oh, great." You respond sarcastically. "Whatever. You wanna watch Untold Stories of the ER or what?"

"I suppose," He says, as if he doesn't love that show.

You roll your eyes and click on the TV. Horsemen.

You spend most of the night like that, until you fall asleep and Death drags you (quite literally) off the couch and carries you to your bed. He sets you down carefully, only pausing when you stubbornly grip his shirt.

"'M cold." You mumble, shivering for dramatic effect.

"Of course you are." He chuckles.

Thankfully he crawls in next to you anyway, and you relish in both Death, in your bed, and his unnatural warmth. You think it's a nephilim thing. They're all very warm, and that makes for good cuddling in the colder months.

His eyes are closed when you wake up, and you languidly stretch. Reaching for your water bottle, you take a sip of leftover lemonade and glance at the clock. Seven eighteen. Pretty good for a Friday. "Death." You chirp, leaning close.

He cracks one eye open, one hand spiderwebbing on your hip. "Too early, human." He rumbles. Oh, please, nephilim don't even need sleep.

"It's never too early for hashbrowns." You respond, twisting a chunk of his hair around your finger. That's usually enough to get him irritated enough to get up.

Sure enough, he opens both his eyes to glare at your hand.

Rather than shoving you away, he tangles his own hand in your hair and kisses you. He's gentle, as if he's scared you'll break if he presses to hard but you kiss back fiercely.

You're both smiling when you pull away, leaning into his hand. "Well, good morning to you too." You laugh.

Four out of four really isn't anything to scoff at.