Chapter TenSummary:Alastor thinks too much.
Notes:Alright, Chapter Ten! It took forever, it's shorter than the last chapter, but it's entirely Alastor's POV???
Also, I've been asked if I'm planning to drop this fic, and I assure you I am NOT going to drop it. I've definitely been having a block for it, and work has been beating my ass which has made getting the words to flow well a difficult process. Having said that, it's looking like about three more chapters will be enough to end this fic how I want to, so we're getting close to seeing these goobers get some semblance of an understanding for each other!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Alastor relishes in the bliss of a clear mind as the sound of Ella Fitzgerald's voice replaces the thoughts that have plagued him through the night and into his broadcast. He flips his mic off, allowing the listeners to hear only the soothing jazz of Dream a Little Dream of Me, before resting the back of his head against his chair. Briefly, Alastor wonders if anyone has ever caught on to the fact that the same week every year his broadcast is filled with only Ella's music, but he brushes the thought away when it starts to lead him to acknowledging what this week is, knowing that that is not a safe place for his mind to wander when he's scheduled to meet with Lucifer in just a half hour.
Lucifer.
Alastor inhales deeply as the name invades his mind. He closes his eyes as images of their encounter yesterday begin playing out like an unwanted movie screening. Memories of Lucifer laying on the couch looking far too comfortable and unguarded, of Alastor trying in vain to ignore the exposed strip of skin on Lucifer's abdomen from his shirt riding up, of Alastor summoning a blanket to cover Lucifer's body as he desperately works to overcome the temptation to press his fingers against that pristine ivory skin to feel the power running beneath. He remembers the way Lucifer's body had curled around the red fabric almost instantly, the way the king had pressed his face into it, the treacherous way Alastor's body had shivered upon realizing Lucifer was seeking out his scent, and the way the king had repeated the display later that day while not only awake but knowingly in Alastor's presence. Alastor feels his jaw clench as that particular memory strikes a new, raw nerve inside himself that seems to have been created solely for the king of Hell.
He's such a fool. Seeking my scent for comfort as if we haven't threatened each other's lives a million times over.
Though, I suppose that makes me a fool as well.
The truth that he has been seeking out Lucifer's scent is something he had refused to acknowledge until yesterday. The way Lucifer had been able to fully walk into Alastor's room and come within touching distance of him without Alastor or his shadows noticing is a blow to Alastor's ego that he spent a ludicrous amount of time mulling over last night. He had tried to convince himself that it was because the candles he had lit masked Lucifer's scent, but the lie sounded too much like an insult. No, the king's scent was something no candle or tea could perfectly replicate, and the implication that they could only made the near lack of an ability for Alastor to resist Lucifer's scent look pathetic. Alastor had then tried to tell himself that thoughts of his mother had so fully encompassed his being that he had simply gone blind to his surroundings, and while more believable, he knows it would be a lie as well. No, his body has continued to view Lucifer as a source of safety despite the long hours he has put into trying to change that reality. This change in perception has also brought with it an admiration for Lucifer that comes from some place other than Alastor's hunger for power. He can't peg exactly what this new appreciation is, but he knows he does not like how his body reacts upon seeing the king now. Being in the presence of Lucifer and his power now comes with an unfamiliar need to be closer, to touch, to feed. It's a need Alastor is quickly learning is hard to resist, and it elevates to levels of feeling near impossible to disobey when Lucifer flaunts his powers. Alastor considers the fact that he had kept his hands from reaching out to touch Lucifer yesterday a feat; though it had felt torturous to have his hands pinned while the king was poised on top of him, entire abdomen exposed with those bare hands pressed against his burning cheeks. The way Alastor had wanted to reach out to feel the power running through the veins underneath all that exposed skin, to sink his teeth into that tantalizing neck and taste the angelic essence flowing inside. Alastor's mouth starts watering, and he whines at the missed opportunity before rapidly snapping back to the present.
He looks to ensure his mic is still off, and lets out a sigh of relief when he confirms no one heard him make that pathetic sound. He grips a handful of his hair and sucks in a deep inhale as he realizes the song has switch to another one of Ella Fitzgerald's beautiful hits. Alastor checks the time and realizes it's just about time for his broadcast to end, so he waits for the song to end before flipping his mic back on to send the listeners his final remarks.
"Tune on in tomorrow as we continue on in our Era of Ella week. Ta-ta for now, my dears." Alastor conjures up his best bravado as he speaks, and he's delighted by how steady his voice comes out, something he has been pitifully struggling with nowadays.
The split second after Alastor flips the "On Air" sign off, the scent of green apples and spicy cinnamon fills the space just outside his door, and Alastor can't stop the small smile that forms on his lips. He has no doubt that Lucifer spent the last hour anxiously waiting for the clock to hit twelve, but at least the king stayed in his room rather than sitting outside his door as he's done before. Alastor wipes the drool that has embarrassingly slipped past his lips onto his sleeve; he's not sure how he got to this place, drooling over the king of Hell, but he despises the way his body betrays him when Lucifer is involved. Alastor checks himself in his full-body mirror, making sure he looks presentable and put together before walking to open the door to expose himself to the cause of all his current ailments.
Oh my.
Alastor feels stunned the moment he sees Lucifer. Gone are both the tacky suit and childish pajamas Lucifer usually adorns, and in their place is an outfit consisting of a white cotton button up shirt paired with a red sweater vest that appears to match the exact color of Alastor's suit and khaki slacks that spill over the top of the king's heeled boots perfectly. Lucifer appears to have once again slicked his hair back with all the grace of the first time Alastor had laid eyes upon him, and his lips, currently pulled into an obviously nervous smile, appear to be coated with a bit of gloss. Wide, expectant eyes stare up at Alastor, and he just barely contains the twitch of his hands as they try to reach out towards Lucifer's gloveless hands without permission. The near loss of composure is enough to pull Alastor back to his senses and remind him that he needs to stay in the present rather than getting lost in fantasies. He still needs to determine what exactly Lucifer's reasons for seeking out this doomed friendship are because Alastor does not believe this is all about Charlie. Her request may have been the catalyst, but there is obviously some other factor motivating Lucifer's advances; Alastor just can't figure it out. Clearly it's not for power as Lucifer has shown many times now he has an undeniable advantage in fights, but if not power and not Charlie then why?
Surely, the king of Hell has better options for friends than me. He and the effeminate spider have been looking quite close lately.
Alastor internally bristles at the pang of jealously that burns through him with the reminder that Lucifer and Angel Dust have been getting chummy, and as he brushes off the embarrassment of realizing he's jealous of someone, Alastor pointedly reminds himself that whomever Lucifer decides to become acquainted with is not his business. What is his business is why Lucifer seems to have set his sights on adding Alastor to his list of friends, and that is something Alastor knows he will only find out if he plays along with this little lunch soiree they've planned.
Come now, Alastor, let's focus on the task at hand.
"Hello, Ducky." Alastor takes an immense amount of pleasure in the deep blush that spreads across the king's face as the nickname catches him off guard.
"Hello, Alley Cat." Lucifer sounds, and looks, far too amused with himself as he grins up at Alastor with a blush still layered upon his cheeks, and Alastor has to physically work to keep his body from outwardly reacting to the nickname.
That name again. Of all the names he could have chosen, of course he would pick the absolute worst one.
"So, 'Ducky', huh?" Lucifer begins speaking, skepticism coating his words. "Took you all night to come up with that?" Lucifer cocks and eyebrow up, and Alastor fights to control his expression at the condescending display.
"It's not as simple as you think. You see, there's quite a lot of thought behind the name." Alastor keeps his voice lively, looking unbothered as he waves his hands flippantly while he speaks. "In my time on Earth, being 'ducky' was a good thing. It meant everything was great."
"Y-you think I'm great?" Lucifer gets that stupid smile on his face, the crooked one that looks too honest to be fake, and it infuriates Alastor how hard it is to meet the king's face when that smile is directed at him so openly.
"I think you," Alastor makes a show of looking that lithe frame up and down, relishing in the way Lucifer's blush reddens further. "Are well below average." Alastor has to bite back a chuckle when Lucifer's expression falls dramatically. "But considering your obsession with those rubber ducks you're always crafting, I thought the word could be appropriate for you in a different context." Lucifer suddenly gets a mischievous look on his face, and Alastor feels like he's walked into an unknown trap.
"So, what I'm hearing is: you stayed up thinking of a nickname for me, and you eventually picked one based on lingo that is sentimental to you as well as takes my special interest into consideration?" Lucifer starts giggling, and Alastor feels himself go pale because that is exactly what he had done. His ears fall back against his head in embarrassment when he realizes how sappy the entire thing sounds.
"Tell me, King, how long did you spend impatiently sitting on your bed watching the clock count down to twelve?" Alastor pushes condescending venom into his voice as he leans down closer to Lucifer's face, attempting to gain control back of the conversation by crowding him.
"I actually just listened to your broadcast." Lucifer shrugs, meeting Alastor's eyes in a clear challenge that says he knows Alastor is trying to throw him off and is ready to fight back. It works because Alastor didn't stand a chance at hiding the way his body tensed up at Lucifer's confession, and he doesn't miss the triumphant smirk that spreads across the king's lips.
"What?" Alastor hadn't even meant to say the word, but it slipped out. His ears press further against his head, and he feels a damning heat start building in his cheeks.
It's not that Alastor is embarrassed by the idea of Lucifer listening to his broadcast, but after yesterday's encounter, he's afraid Lucifer may somehow put together certain pieces of information that Alastor most certainly doesn't want him to. The truth of what this week means to Alastor is something he doesn't want anyone, let alone the king of Hell, to figure out.
"Yeah, I heard all those sappy little love songs you played." Lucifer's tone is full of dangerous curiosity and accusations as he takes a step forward. Alastor has a split second of relief upon realizing that Lucifer has not deciphered the true reasons behind his choice in music; however, that relief is quickly lost as the weight of Lucifer's words and actions sink in. Lucifer assuming Alastor was playing love songs for him is embarrassing, but it's an angle Alastor can work with if he plays his cards right.
"You look so prideful, Your Majesty. I wonder-" Alastor practically purrs out, leaning further down where his face is mere inches from Lucifer's face, and it takes every ounce of constraint he can conjure up to keep his hands planted at his sides. "Don't tell me you think it had anything to do with you?"
"Of course not." Lucifer smirks wickedly as he rises to the challenge presented to him. "But a heartless overlord like you doesn't seem the type to enjoy silly love songs."
"Heartless? You wound me, Ducky." Alastor mocks offense. A chuckle begins to bubble in his chest until Lucifer brings one bare hand up to cup his cheek, making Alastor's body freeze, and heat seems to radiate into his skin from the point of contact.
"Maybe if you showed me that heart I'd believe you have one." Lucifer's voice is a shy whisper, the timid tone not matching the confidence of the words he speaks, but Alastor feels like a fish caught on a hook.
Alastor desperately wants to look away, but his eyes feel glued in place, staring back into Lucifer's wide eyes filled with nothing but genuine honesty and a fondness so great that Alastor is almost tempted to call it love.
Fuck.
The thought of putting space between himself and the king to crosses Alastor's mind, but he finds himself unwilling to comply with what is, no doubt, his common sense screaming from within. Instead, he leans his face further into the hand pressed against his cheek, closing his eyes as he does so, and he's amused by the way Lucfier's hand tenses ever so slightly at the gesture before relaxing once again. Not having his eyes on Lucifer makes is easier to concentrate on the way the king's breathing has quickened, as well as his heart rate that Alastor can hear practically pounding like a drum. He's reacting almost like a prey backed into a corner. The similarities prod at Alastor's need to hunt, and Alastor does love to play with his food so much. Egged on by the urge to see how far he can push Lucifer before he cracks, Alastor finally gives in to the temptation to touch the king and lifts one hand to gently rest it on Lucifer's slim waist, and he's rewarded with an obvious hitch in the king's breath that sounds almost like music to Alastor's ears.
Music. Now there's a thought.
The beautiful sound of the trumpet intro for Dream a Little Dream of Me fills the air around Alastor and Lucifer, and Alastor's smile morphs into something that feels more real than any of the smiles he's adorned since he expired. He opens his eyes to look at Lucifer's face, and his breath is nearly knocked completely out of him. The expression Lucifer has trained on him is impossible to read as anything other than downright smitten, and Alastor feels victorious, as if he'd been fighting for the heart to the king of Hell all along.
"I'll assume you know where to put your hands, Your Majesty?" Alastor asks, his voice not coming out nearly as condescending as he'd intended.
"What?" Lucifer's eyes go wide with shock, and he stiffens, pulling his hand away from Alastor, as a blush floods his face. Alastor pretends not to be bothered by the loss of contact, but his skin suddenly feels quite cold.
"To dance, of course." Alastor clarifies, chuckles to himself as he realizes the king's mind is obviously in the gutter.
"Uh, right, yeah. To dance." Lucifer giggles nervously but makes no move to get close to Alastor again.
Annoyed, Alastor rolls his eyes before taking Lucifer's hands in his own, trying to ignore the shudder that runs up his spine upon touching those hands, and places them on his shoulders. He has to crowd deep into Lucifer's space to do so because of how short the king is, but oddly enough, Alastor is unbothered by the aggressively close proximity. In fact, he finds he almost enjoys it, enjoys the way his hunger feels satiated by the closeness of Lucifer's body, and when he places his own hands around Lucifer's tiny waist, Alastor finds that he most definitely enjoys the way Lucifer's pupils are dilated when their eyes meet again. He takes a deep breath, watching as Lucifer mimics the motion, and then Alastor begins slowly swaying their bodies back and forth on beat with the music still playing around them. Lucifer keeps his eyes on Alastor, and rather than feeling on edge or the need to hide behind a tight smile, Alastor feels relaxation spread through his body down to his bones under the intense gaze, that same small and unfamiliarly real smile playing on his lips.
Never in the span of his entire existence has Alastor imagined that he would share a dance with a man, let alone the big boss of Hell himself, yet here he is, in the hall outside his bedroom dancing with Lucifer while he looks up at Alastor with genuine emotion filling his eyes. The moment is almost surreal enough to make Alastor forget the reason for all of this, that he's working to uncover Lucifer's motivations for pursuing him. Real emotions or not, Alastor needs to know why Lucifer has opened himself up to even having feelings for Alastor. It's a stupid decision for sure, and Alastor feels like quite the fool himself for wanting to reciprocate the idiotic notion.
Now, now, Alastor, let's not forget who we are. We can't succumb to frivolous feelings, not when it would put so much at risk.
As the song comes to an end, Alastor prepares to play another; however, a the sound of grumbling coming from Lucifer's stomach causes them both to pause. Obvious embarrassment floods Lucifer's face before he quickly covers it with his hands, groaning in frustration. Alastor laughs before pulling Lucifer's hands back away from his face and forcing Lucifer to look at him.
"Hungry, Ducky?" Alastor jokes mockingly. He's shocked when, instead of answering, Lucifer's head falls against Alastor's chest before he lets out another groan. "Come now, there's no need for the dramatics." Alastor starts to pet Lucifer's head, but he immediately stops when he realizes what he's doing, ears falling back in annoyance with himself.
"But we were dancing, and I ruined the moment." Lucifer whines, face still pressed into Alastor's chest.
"You've ruined many moments, and I'm sure you'll ruin many more. I'm afraid it's just your nature." Lucifer swiftly pulls his face back to glare at Alastor, and the radio demon chuckles at the display. Just as Lucifer opens his mouth to speak, his stomach growls again, and his cheeks turn a deeper shade of red. "Look at you, even ruining your own moment to speak."
"Yeah, well, we did meet to have lunch together, but we just got distracted. It makes perfect sense that I-"
"Yes, yes, you're absolutely correct." Alastor waves his hand at Lucifer flippantly. "Lunch it is then. I'll show you how jambalaya is supposed to be made." Lucifer's expression morphs into an odd mixture of embarrassment and aggravation at the jab, but Alastor merely chuckles at him again.
Alastor catches the smile twitching at the corners of Lucifer's lips as he tries to fight it, and Alastor shoots him a quick grin before turning to walk towards the kitchen, waving for Lucifer to hurry up when he doesn't hear footsteps following behind him.
Notes:So, uh, remember how I mentioned I'm having a block for this fic?? You can blame AdamsApple as it has COMPLETELY taken over my mind. I have a fic idea for Adam and Luci which would be heavy angst and actually include smut, sooo would you guys be up for jumping ship with me once this fic is complete??
Chapter 11: Chapter ElevenSummary:Lucifer and Alastor try to have lunch together.
Notes:Well, this chapter went WAY differently than I had expected, but I like how it turned out!
It's longer than the last one but is also mostly from Alastor's POV!
TW for panic attacks and self-harm
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Cooking with Alastor is not going how Lucifer imagined it would. In the hour since they started they've argued twice, Lucifer has managed to burn himself, and Alastor has raw rice in his hair from where Lucifer chucked a handful at him by accident when the radio demon had gotten too close to him without warning which made Lucifer panic. That little incident had actually led to their first argument, with their second argument revolving around Lucifer cutting the sausage chunks too large. At this point, Lucifer is just sitting on the counter uselessly as he watches Alastor work. The radio demon has his hair pulled back while he cooks, and Lucifer cannot stop staring at his strong jawline, watching it tense and release as he moves between thinking and just moving on instinct.
He looks beautiful like this.
After their dance outside of Alastor's room, Lucifer has given up any pretense of downplaying his feelings for Alastor. He's not sure exactly what happened up there or why the radio demon had suddenly been okay with Lucifer touching him, but he's also not willing to question it, not when the shift in their dynamic is so welcome. As if sensing his thoughts, Alastor looks up at Lucifer and cocks an eyebrow.
"The food must look quite appetizing since you can't seem to look away." Alastor smirks to accentuate the mocking lilt in is voice, and Lucifer feels heat burn at his cheeks in response to being caught staring, again.
"Yeah, it, uh, it looks great!" Lucifer laughs nervously and tries to hop off the counter, but his hand slips, making him fall. For a moment, Lucifer contemplates staying on the floor forever just so that he never has to see the expression on Alastor's face right now, but he knows he can't. He tentatively looks up, and he is shocked when, instead of an expression of mockery or judgement, he sees something he can only describe as fond amusement coating Alastor's features.
"Ducky, I'm not certain the phrase 'falling for someone' is meant to be taken quite so literally." Alastor speaks around a smirk, but the jab doesn't have any of the bite Lucifer expected. He feels fresh heat burn down his cheeks to his neck at the nickname; a nickname he's quickly becoming too attached to just like the one who gave it to him.
"I, uh, slipped." Lucifer tries to steady his voice but fails to keep his hand from shaking as he reaches out to take the one Alastor offers him.
"Hmm, I'm sure it was just gravity trying to remind you that you're not meant to be that high up." Alastor chuckles at him, and Lucifer's face falls dramatically.
"Haha, you're so funny." Lucifer deadpans.
"Nice of you to acknowledge my comedic chops." Alastor quips, holding up a finger to silence Lucifer when he opens his mouth to rebuttal. "No time for your pathetic attempts at out witting me. Go sit at the table."
Lucifer frowns in fake frustration before shooting a playful glare at the radio demon. As he walks towards the table, Lucifer can feel excitement bubbling in his chest because they are actually getting along. Something about Alastor is different today, and Lucifer, while internally freaking out over the suddenness of it all, can feel his hopes that they can be something more than bitter rivals rapidly building.
Once at the table, Lucifer finds himself knowingly overthinking where to sit because he's worried that if he sits in his usual spot at the head of the table it will encourage Alastor to sit in his usual spot which is at the complete opposite end, way too far for Lucifer's liking. He knows Alastor is a creature of habit though which means he will likely sit in his usual spot regardless. Banking on this line of thought, Lucifer sits in the chair to the left of Alastor's usual spot. He sits there nervously playing with the hem of his sweater vest while his foot fidgets against the legs tables' legs. When Alastor rounds the corner from the kitchen with their bowls in his hands, he cocks an eyebrow in Lucifer's direction clearly questioning the change in his usual seating choices, and Lucifer shoots him a wobbly, too-wide grin that even he knows highlights how nervous he is. The radio demon chuckles at him, a small genuine smile resting on his lips, and Lucifer has to look away as heat rises embarrassingly fast in his cheeks.
"Should I expect this new seating arrangement to be permanent?" Alastor ask is a mischievous tone as he sets their bowls down.
"No, I just, well, it can be? I just, fuck, I wanted to sit next to you." Lucifer wants to crawl in a hole and lay there forever as he stumbles unceremoniously through his words, unable to look Alastor in the eyes which prompts yet another chuckle from the radio demon.
"If I had known dancing with you one time would result in this much of a mess, I may have considered the consequences a bit longer." Lucifer feels a fresh wave of embarrassment crash over him as Alastor teases him.
"It's not that. I'm just, uh, I'm excited." Lucifer fights to try to meet Alastor's eyes.
"Excited to spend time with me? My, my, Ducky, how things have changed." Lucifer's eyes finally meet Alastor's, and seeing an honest happiness shining in the corners of Alastor's eyes as he smiles pulls up a bout of courage from deep within Lucifer.
"They have haven't they?" Lucifer's voice finally comes out a bit calmer, but he still runs his hand through his hair nervously. "I, uh, I've liked today so far." Lucifer watches Alastor's smile tighten slightly, letting him know he's giving the radio demon at least a taste of the nerves Alastor gives him, and Lucifer feels a toothy grin spreading across his lips in response.
"It's been acceptable." Alastor quips, and Lucifer fights the urge to roll his eyes as the radio demon backtracks from his previous teasing tone into his more familiar tone laced with condescension. "Eat your food. I've spent the last almost two hours dutifully crafting this feast while fending off your attempts at sabotage, so you better enjoy it." Alastor narrows his eyes accusingly at Lucifer, but all Lucifer can do is laugh gently in response which prompts a playfully aggravated sigh from Alastor.
Eager to try the food, Lucifer does as told and picks up his spoon to take the first bite he's ever had of jambalaya. It taste just as amazing as it smells, and Lucifer lets out a pleased moan as the flavors of the spices, vegetables, sausage, and rice burst across his tongue. As he takes another bite, he closes his eyes to allow himself to fully focus on just the aroma and taste, and he's hit with the realization that this dish smells almost exactly like Alastor himself. Lucifer has the epiphany that not only is jambalaya Alsastor's favorite dish like Husk had said, but it must also have a deep rooted sentimentality attached to it for Hell to have crafted his bodily scent to resemble it. Tears pool up in Lucifer's eyes as the pieces fall into place of how meaningful the act of Alastor cooking this dish for him truly is.
Lucifer opens his eyes, and they immediately meet Alastor's radio dial eyes. He swallows down his bite slowly and watches as Alastor's stare intensely follows the bite as it slides down his throat. When the radio demon looks back up at Lucifer's eyes, he looks almost entranced. It's as if he's looking through Lucifer rather than at him. Lucifer feels like, logically, he should be afraid of the sudden animalistic way Alastor is eyeing him; however the only sensation thrumming through Lucifer's body is anticipation. He's not sure what he is waiting on, but Lucifer knows full well he would be willing to go along with almost anything Alastor may offer at this moment. Even so, Lucifer's body still stiffens when Alastor lifts a hand towards his face, and he stares at Alastor's unfocused eyes when that hand cups Lucifer's cheek. The radio demon runs his thumb across Lucifer's cheekbone, feeling as if he's trying to wipe away the tears lingering there. Lucifer feels his cheeks burn and heart start racing under the attention, but when Alastor begins to lean in closer, radio dial eyes still clearly glazed over, Lucifer feels alarm bells start sounding off in his mind.
"Alley Cat?" The nickname comes out as a barely-there whisper, but it's enough to pull Alastor back to the present, his eyes quickly changing back to normal. Alastor jerks his hand away before clearing his throat.
"Sorry, Ducky." Alastor's tone stunted, and the radio filter is almost gone. "I'm afraid I didn't anticipate you hating the dish so much you'd cry. I didn't realize you have such bad taste." The jab is missing all of Alastor's usual flair.
"Hate it? Fuck, no. I love it!" Lucifer reassures him quickly. "I, well, I realized it smells like you. It must have an important meaning to you if Hell used its scent when giving you a sinner form, and I just got a bit overwhelmed by the idea of you cooking something like that for me."
"It's my mother's recipe." Alastor's eyes go wide after he speaks, as if he hadn't expected to say it, and Lucifer feels his own eyes widen in response.
"You made me something from when you were alive?" Fresh tears build up in Lucifer's eyes as the full weight of how important this dish is to Alastor dawns on him.
"This is the week she died." The words seem to claw themselves out of Alastor's throat without permission, and Alastor looks terrified when he realizes what's just slipped out his mouth. The filter is gone, and Alastor's chest is visibly starting to heave with uneven breaths. "She's dead. She died, and I wasn't there. She's dead. She's dead. She's-" Alastor cuts himself off when he starts retching, bloody drool dribbling down his chin.
Alastor knocks over the chair as he suddenly stands, one hand moving to clutch tightly in his hair, and Lucifer reaches out to grasp the other hand before Alastor can tangle them both in his hair. For a second, everything goes still. Alastor stares at the hand holding his. Lucifer stares at Alastor's face. After what feels like minutes but is really just a few seconds, Alastor looks up to meet Lucifer's eyes, and Lucifer feels a rush of relief when he doesn't see radio dial eyes. Alastor slowly moves to pick the chair back up and sit back down, keeping his hand in Lucifer's. When he looks back down at his bowl, Alastor outright frowns, and Lucifer feels panic pulse through his body before looks down at the bowl, realizing that Alastor had gotten blood in it when he'd started panicking. Lucifer hands Alastor a napkin so that the radio demon can wipe his mouth and then Lucifer pushes the soiled bowl away from him, replacing it by sliding his own bowl between the two of them. Alastor looks at him with a near blank expression that has just hints of confusion twitching the corners of his eyes and frown. Without letting himself overthink it, Lucifer lifts a spoonful of jambalaya up to Alastor's lips. Alastor hesitates, but when he eventually opens his mouth to let Lucifer feed him, Lucifer can't stop the wide smile that grows on his face; a smile that Alastor slowly starts mirroring as he gives their held hands a small squeeze. Lucifer takes a bite of his own, trying not to focus on the fact that they are using the same spoon which means he's just swallowed some of the radio demon's spit. Alastor watches the process as if he's thinking the same thing, and Lucifer feels an indescribably amazing feeling start bubbling in his chest when he spots the faint blush dusting the top of Alastor's cheeks. Lucifer pointedly ignores the heat flaming up on his own cheeks as he brings another bite to Alastor's lips, and the radio demon doesn't hesitate to take the bite this time. Lucifer continues feeding them bites back and forth until the entire bowl is gone, and Alastor keeps squeezing Lucifer's hand after each bite as if in thanks. They don't speak words, but the small smiles they share along with the glimmer in Alastor's eyes tells Lucifer he's doing the right thing.
Fuck, he looks so endearing like this.
I'm definitely gaining major Alastor points right now.
~*~
Alastor feels humiliated. The shadows inside him are screaming for him to lash out, to distance himself from Lucifer, to just do something other than eat another bite, but there's another part of Alastor that is begging him to not ruin this moment. The part of him that still remembers how it feels to be human, to be alive, is practically singing at the attention and affectionate smile trained on him, and that hand gently holding his own feels comforting in a way Alastor never knew could exist in Hell. His insides feel like they've been fully engulfed in flames, and he's certain the heat of embarrassment is showing on his face. He desperately wants to look away, but his gaze feels transfixed on the king before him, on the genuine kindness being presented to him with every bite Lucifer brings to his lips.
Alastor chest feels scraped raw. His heart is clenching painfully at the knowledge that Lucifer is the only person to witness Alastor on the brink of panic since he's spawned in Hell, and he chose not to exploit an obvious weakness. No, Lucifer had done the opposite. Lucifer had seen the effect accidentally blurting out such intimate secrets had had on Alastor, and rather than attacking him while distracted, Lucifer had chosen to, quite literally, reach out a helping hand. The emotions Alastor had seen reflected in the king's eyes at that moment had stopped his building panic before it could climax. Concern, fear, his own panic, and maybe even a bit of love had been on full display in Lucifer's wide eyes and trembling mouth, and somehow, Alastor knows it was all real. Only his mother had ever looked at him with such honesty, without the usual notes of trepidation everyone has upon seeing the radio demon lurking behind any positivity, and she, too, had always offered her hand when she could see the monstrous panic taking hold of her son. The striking realization of how much Lucifer truly does remind him of his mother when he sees the king interact with Charlie hits Alastor like a ton of bricks.
I suppose he was once an angel, so it only seems fitting he and Mother would share similar qualities.
But what if it really is just an elaborate scheme? What if he does have ulterior motives?
Can I risk it just because I, because I miss her? Miss companionship?
A frown starts tugging at the corners of Alastor's smile down, and he sees Lucifer's smile morph into something akin to endearment.
"I can fix another bowl for us if you're still hungry?" Lucifer's voice is loaded with a level of open affection Alastor is certain no man has ever given him, and the tone itself confuses him enough that it takes a second for him to process that the words are confusing too. The confusion must show on his face because Lucifer begins to elaborate. "You looked like you may frown after that last bite. Do you want me to make us another bowl?"
Alastor stares at him for a moment, trying to process the shock pulsing through his chest at how genuinely concerned for him Lucifer is. The king is overly observant of every move, every change in expression, every twitch of his smile that Alastor makes to the point where it honestly frightens him that anyone would care enough to study his behavior for a seemingly non-threatening reason. Even Charlie has ulterior motives behind her observations of Alastor since they are business partners, and she has to know who she's working with; she also clearly doesn't fully trust him. This though, Lucifer apparently just wants to know the man he's trying to befriend, and friendship can hardly be considered an ulterior motive. Still, Alastor can't help but to be skeptical.
"Why do you call me Alley Cat?" Alastor's voice is void of his radio filter, which doesn't surprise him considering his shadows have gone silent inside him. It's Lucifer's turn to look confused, and Alastor feels a small wave of satisfaction wash through him as he realizes he's caught the king off-guard. He needs to know how Lucifer picked this name though, and now while the king is being so open and calm is the perfect opportunity.
"Well, you kinda act like one." Lucifer starts before pausing, seeming to be trying to find his train of thought. "You make it seem like you want attention but then attack anyone who gets too close."
"So you think strays are manipulative then?" Curiosity peaks through Alastor's voice as he raises one eyebrow at the king.
"No, I think pushing people away is their defense mechanism. It's kept them safe their whole lives, and it can be difficult to take down that safety net around strangers." The candid way Lucifer is speaking while he pointedly maintains eye contact lets Alastor know that he is, in fact, picking up on the underlying meaning behind Alastor's question.
"Your goal would be to tame the stray then, yes? To change it?" Alastor hopes he can goad the king into saying the wrong thing, into admitting any hidden motives.
"Ah, no." Lucifer shakes his head, his face scrunching as if to accentuate his discomfort at the idea of 'taming' a stray. "The alley cat's behavior isn't what needs to be focused on; it's the person approaching them that needs to be looked at. They should be sincere, and above all else, patient. Once they earn the cat's trust, then the need for the safety net disappears, and all the hot and cold behavior will stop on its own." Lucifer speaks fervently as his eyes bore deep inside Alastor in a way that makes the radio demon feel uncomfortably seen.
"What about you then? Do you have the patience to earn a common alley cat's trust?" Alastor once again tries to bait the king.
"I earned Keekee's trust, and now look at her! She not only trusts me and Charlie, but she has also learned how to determine whether or not others around her are trustworthy." Lucifer beams a large smile at Alastor, and when Alastor hums back unimpressed, Lucifer's goofy smile falls back into a serious expression. "But to answer your question more directly, yes." The low tone Lucifer's voice takes on sounds dangerously inviting on Alastor's ears, and he feels them twitch in response. A sudden squeezing pressure on Alastor's left hand reminds him that their hands are still clasped together, and Lucifer uses the leverage of their entwined hands to pull their bodies closer together. "I have the patience it takes to earn your trust." Lucifer looks at Alastor with an expression full of unfiltered confidence, and the moment a tremor works its way up Alastor's spine, he knows he's losing this game and will need to think quick if he wants to earn the upper-hand.
"Tell me, Ducky, why should I trust you? You've only recently decided you can tolerate my existence." Alastor's voice comes out blessedly steady even as he leans further into Lucifer's space, watching as a blush blooms on the king's face that most definitely mirrors the own flush Alastor can feel heating on his own cheeks.
"Because, Alley Cat, I've realized sharing an existence with you would be endlessly entertaining." Lucifer practically purrs in Alastor's face, and Alastor feels his brain short circuit at the outright flirtation aimed his way.
"Fuck."
Radio static crackles in the air between Alastor and Lucifer, and Alastor hears his shadows start desperately screaming for space once again. He refuses to back down first though, so he and Lucifer stay poised awkwardly around the table leaning far too closely into each other's personal space. They're both breathing heavily, and Alastor can taste Lucifer's breath on his lips. The tantalizing combination of Lucifer's green apples and cinnamon mixed with the spices of the jambalaya that Alastor had cooked himself wafts dangerously passed Alastor's lips, resting upon his tongue in a teasing way that begs him to dive in for the full flavor undiluted by space. He can feel his resolve crumbling, can feel his body down to his bones demanding he make a choice: lean in or back away because this moment of stasis is torturous. Lucifer's other hand reaches up to cup Alastor's cheek, and the fresh contact causes the radio demon's breath to hitch loudly, prompting a smug smirk from Lucifer before he starts to slowly close the space between them. Every second seems to tick on for an hour as the king moves devastatingly slowly towards Alastor. Just when Alastor's eyes begin to go cross as he tries to keep them on the king before him, Lucifer pauses, and an embarrassingly needy whine escapes Alastor's lips as his promise of finally tasting that delectable skin and power is seemingly ripped away from him.
"Alastor, do you want me to keep going?" Lucifer's voice is ragged, and the knowledge that he has driven the king of Hell to such a disheveled state without so much as lifting a finger shoots a burst of pride through Alastor. That is, until he realizes what Lucifer just asked, and the panic begins to set in again.
Alastor rapidly jerks away from Lucifer. The motion causes the chair, along with Alastor himself, to fall harshly to the ground. His shadows lurch out behind him to break the fall as the cracking of his growing antlers echos through the dining room. Alastor's entire body feels like it's been ignited by Hellfire as a fierce fury and raging embarrassment burn through to his core. He starts hyperventilating, the breaths catching in his throat making him dry heave until bloody spit starts dribbling down his chin. His vision is blurred, unfocused by tears building in his eyes, and an animalistic sob chokes its way out of Alastor's throat between bouts of retching. Alastor's mind is racing with thoughts of what he'd almost allowed, what he wanted, what he still disgustingly craves. He tightly squeezes his eyes shut as shame crashes down on him like an avalanche of icy snow cascading down a mountain. Alastor's hands find purchase in his hair, and his claws begin digging into his scalp, clumps of hair falling as the sharp talons sever the strands. Blood begins to trickle down his face from the fresh wounds on his head, and Alastor feels his smile widening painfully as green stitches pull it too taut.
A sudden calmness washes over Alastor as something soft and plush encloses his body. He can hear someone whispering softly to him. They appear to be singing, but Alastor can't make out the words. Nonetheless, the melody combined with the gentle pressure of whatever is wrapped around him slowly begins to pull him back to a level state, and once his breathing has become more regulated and his smile no longer hurts, Alastor finds the strength to open his eyes. His gaze immediately locks on Lucifer's face in front of him. The king's expression is that same one from before; the honest one that Alastor finds a bit too much comfort in. As Alastor begins to take in his surroundings he realizes his shadows have receded, even though he had not told them to nor does Lucifer have his Hellfire out to have demanded them to leave. Pressed against Alastor's back in their place is the soft white and red feathers of all six of Lucifer's wings, which Lucifer has wrapped around them both encasing them in a cocoon of sorts. Alastor stares at Lucifer. He has no clue what his expression may be revealing, but he knows he needs to look at Lucifer right now, needs to see the open concern and kindness in those eyes. Alastor finally starts to register the words Lucifer is singing, and he feels treacherous tears start pooling in his eyes when he realizes Lucifer is singing Dream a Little Dream of Me, having apparently learned the lyrics even though Alastor is certain the king had never heard it before today. Lucifer offers a hand to Alastor, and Alastor greedily reaches for both instead, holding them tightly as he presses his forehead down onto their collection of hands.
The two of them sit there wrapped in Lucifer's wings for an immeasurable amount of time as they wait for Alastor's body to fully regulate itself back to normal. Lucifer sends small spurts of healing power through his hands to Alastor, and the radio demon feels his body relishing in the feeling of having Lucifer's powers coursing through his veins again. Rather than intoxicating him as Alastor expects, the power seems to be aiding in granting him mental clarity. Lucifer sings the same song over and over again, only stopping once Alastor clears his throat and looks up at him. Alastor can only hope his expression doesn't reflect how fully raw he feels inside, but the deepening of the concern pinched into Lucifer's features confirms that, yes, Alastor looks as wrecked as he feels.
"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" Alastor wishes Lucifer was being condescending; it would make pulling away so much easier, but he's not. Lucifer's voice is laced with open caring and affection, and the ease with which he directs such intimate emotions towards him has Alastor wanting to fall against Lucifer's chest and allow him to keep those arms and wings wrapped around him forever. "I'm not letting you go, okay?" Lucifer reassures him as if he can hear Alastor's thoughts. Alastor can only nod in response.
Lucifer wraps one arm around Alastor's waist, keeping the other hand clasped tightly in Alastor's, and he slowly guides them both into a standing position. Alastor's legs wobble a bit, but Lucifer uses his wings to help steady the radio demon's weakened body. Shame heats Alastor's cheeks, but when he looks at Lucifer expecting to see pity, Lucifer offers him a soft, reassuring smile with not an ounce of pity in sight.
"Do you wanna walk, or do you want me to carry you?" Even in his vulnerable state, the idea of Lucifer carrying him is enough to pull a glare to Alastor's face, and Lucifer laughs lightly at him. "I'm joking, Alley Cat. Come on, we need to get you to your bathroom, so I can get the blood out of your hair."
The trek up the stairs is strenuous; Alastor's legs shake the entire time, but he's secretly grateful for the excuse to lean closer into Lucifer's body and wings, his body responding positively to the contact. Alastor finds that his reactions to Lucifer's touch are less visceral when he stops fighting the urge and simply allows himself to give into the temptation, and if that sounds like an excuse to seek out that addicting feeling then Alastor believes he's earned himself an excuse or two after years of denying himself this closeness with anyone.
When they reach his bedroom, Lucifer deposits Alastor on the bed before making his way to the bathroom to gather supplies to clean Alastor up. Alastor has to bite down the urge to whine when Lucifer pulls back his wings and hands from Alastor's body, leaving him feeling cold. Lucifer returns quickly with a medical kit and wash cloth in his hands, and he immediately wraps his wings back protectively around Alastor before beginning his ministrations. Alastor tries to hide the way his body instinctively leans deeper into the soft plush of Lucifer's wings, but the sly smile that plays across Lucifer's lip lets Alastor know he failed. He wants to look away, but refusing to take another blow to his pride, he forces his eyes to keep watching Lucifer's face, noting the shifts in the king's expressions as he cleans Alastor's already healed wounds. Alastor can feel Lucifer doing his best to avoid touching his ears, and he feels a bubble of gratitude well up in his chest. After successfully removing all the blood out of Alastor's head, Lucifer gently squeezes his hand before walking away again. Alastor can't contain the confused noise that falls past his lips, but when Lucifer doesn't respond, he assumes the king hadn't heard him. Alastor sighs in relief.
"I was coming right back. I just needed to rinse this out before cleaning your face." Lucifer laughs out as he rounds the corner back into the room, and Alastor's cheeks burn as he realizes Lucifer had, in fact, heard him. Lucifer wraps his wings back around Alastor before leaning in closely to his face. "So needy." Lucifer smirks at Alastor then outright laughs when Alastor glares at him.
"Forgive me for being upset that you seem to be unnecessarily drawing out what could have been fixed with a snap of your fingers." Alastor quips, needing to have some semblance of control.
"Oh, what, you want me to get this over with? Take my wings back and everything, hm?" Lucifer leans back as he levels Alastor with a smug expression that dares him to deny he's enjoying every second of this, and he raises his hand, poising his fingers to snap as he awaits Alastor's response.
"Do as you please, Ducky." Alastor matches Lucifer's arrogance, betting on the fact that Lucifer must enjoy this as much as him. He's right, of course, and Lucifer merely rolls his eyes before leaning back in and bringing the wet cloth up to Alastor's face.
"You don't need to be embarrassed, Alley Cat." Lucifer looks directly into Alastor's eyes, pausing with the cloth resting on the radio demon's cheek. "If you enjoy being wrapped in my wings, just say so." Alastor's face burns painfully, and he has to look away. It's not until Lucifer giggles that Alastor realizes what he's done; he's just lost this little game they've been playing, and Lucifer knows it. Lucifer tucks a finger underneath Alastor's chin, forcing him to look back at those glistening eyes. "I like having you like this, seeing you lean into my feathers for comfort. Charlie says you don't sleep a lot, and considering how today has been, I doubt sleep will come easily. Do you, uh, do you want me to stay with you? I could keep you wrapped in my wings. It, uh, it might help you rest." Hearing the nerves creep back into Lucifer's voice as he offers the suggestion is the only thing that keeps Alastor from pushing him away the moment the offer leaves his lips.
It's a ridiculous suggestion that Alastor should immediately shut down, but the idea of spending a night wrapped in these glorious wings, feeling Lucifer's power surrounding him, getting actual sleep is too appealing to outright oppose. Alastor's insomnia is annoying on a good day, but after the day Alastor has had, it's sure to be debilitating. He doubts he will get even an hour of sleep, lest his nightmares be plagued with memories of his mother's death overlapping with harsh distortions of today's events. Unable to make himself say the words, Alastor nods his head as it rests on Lucifer's hand, and the slow smile that spreads across Lucifer's lips is enough to make Alastor want to ignore every alarm bell ringing in his head that he's just made a mistake. He pushes down the gnawing feeling in his gut and allows his smile to soften in response to the king. Lucifer's wings tighten ever-so-slightly around Alastor's body, and the thrill the protective gesture sends through his chest feels dangerously appealing.
Lucifer starts humming as he begins wiping down Alastor's face again, and when Alastor recognizes it as The Nearness of You, one of the many songs he had played on his broadcast earlier in the day, he channels into his powers to start playing the song aloud for them. Lucifer looks confused at first, but once he realizes what Alastor has done, the look he gives Alastor is full of warmth and unabashed adoration. Alastor feels heat once again overtaking his face as he simply watches Lucifer humming along with the song while he cups one cheek to keep Alastor's face steady as he gently wipes the blood and drool off Alastor's face with a practiced hand that would make one think Lucifer had done this for him a million times.
Notes:The songs mentioned in this chapter are both in the Spotify playlist titled the same as this fic! The direct link is in my pinned post on Tumblr! Username: yezoki
I hope you guys liked the chapter!