Chapter Text
“We need to talk.”
Though the difference in power between them is overwhelming (Lucifer could tear Alastor to pieces at the mere thought of it; finish him off as easily as a few drops of holy blood healed his wound) the King of Hell finds himself swallowing. No, those words carry no threat, they are just a fact, but there is something so radically human in the deer demon's eyes that he feels a lump in his throat just looking at him.
Lucifer loves him. He has realized it weeks ago, but the revelation comes once again to haunt his thoughts at the sight of him like this, on his balcony. Alastor has come for him, come to talk, and the image with which he presents himself is a far cry from the pretentious Overlord who protects his vanity and reputation. Almost like a surrender, a white flag, Alastor offers himself vulnerable, wide open, and only a trace of static reminds them of the presence of his powers and his radio-persona.
"Alastor...” mutters the King of Hell, almost as if he expects the deer demon to vanish at the sound of his name. It wouldn't be the first time. "What are you doing here? I thought you wouldn't want to have anything to do with me after..."
"Well, my dear, of course, that's the problem,” Alastor interrupts without second thought. "Outside of your workshop, you're not in the habit of thinking."
"Hey!"
Lucifer straightens up. He doesn't feel like being insulted, even if there are unpleasant truths that, maybe and just maybe, he deserves to hear.
"No, really, how many of your brain cells have suddenly died this morning?" Alastor snaps. "Marriage? Seriously, Lucifer?"
"I thought I had nothing to lose! Or that I'd already lost it! Check the Creation Tale and you'll see that I'm one to throw myself in the abyss!"
"I think you were thrown into the abyss in that tale, but okay." Yes, that stings, but someone not blaming him for the evil in the world (and even someone like Alastor) also makes Lucifer feel more at ease. Filled with something warm, maybe. "So, let's see if I'm getting this straight, this morning you were oh so sure about your feelings and about being in love with me and now you tell me you had nothing to lose?"
"Because I never know if I had you to begin with. I don't know what you feel, Alastor. I can't know."
"You've could ask."
"You're not known for being one for straight answers,” he mumbles, though the deer demon glares at him, his smile full of teeth. "Okay, enlighten me, please. How do you feel about me?"
Alastor takes a deep breath. Although he has prompted this question, he doesn't seem ready to answer it. He doesn't seem to know how, and Lucifer is not surprised to find himself with exactly that admission.
"Right now... I'm confused. I don't understand you. I don't know what you're playing at and I don't know what you're up to."
"I... I'm in love with..."
"And did you really think the best way to prove it was with an impromptu, meaningless, out-of-nowhere public marriage proposal after what the rest of our merry, misguided companions call a first date ended in utter disaster?"
"I mean... Lilith and I got married right after we fell into Hell."
"Well, I'm not Lilith so stop with that! Just stop!" The deer demon cuts him off with a tone bordering on desperation. It takes him losing just an iota of his iron grip on himself to stop smiling and start almost pulling his hair, and Lucifer is paralyzed by the sight. He's not trembling, but he's not far from it. "That's the first thing you should have understood. I'm not Lilith, I have nothing to do with her. You can't expect what works with her to work with me, and you can't expect me to believe in your feelings and how true and intense they are when you're looking for a substitute for your wife!"
"I never wanted you to be a substitute for Lilith. That doesn't..."
"Looks like it."
Lucifer sighs. There is something honest in Alastor's expression, in the ears drooping in defeat, in the streaks of pain he shows beneath the mask, between the cracks. His smile is still there, but his eyes tell an entirely different tale.
"I really fucked up, didn't I?" The Radio Demon just shrugs. "Fuck. Alastor... I'm sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way. I didn't... I didn't know this was the image I was projecting."
"Everything you've done for me is based on what you did for her. What else did you expect?"
"You knew?"
"The discussions you were having with Husker could be heard in half the hotel. And, from the outside, it all seemed like a ridiculous and manly wager, more typical of a scapegoat like Adam than of the King of Hell himself."
"No.” Lucifer shook his head vehemently. He can see the bitterness in Alastor's expression and dares to step forward and take his hand again, just like this morning. But, on this occasion, the moment is just for the two of them. The Radio Demon tenses, but doesn't pull back. "Nothing could be further from the truth, Alastor... I was serious. I've been serious all along. I'm not doing this for Charlie and Lilith and I divorced seven years ago. I don't want a replacement for her. I want you."
"Then prove it to me,” the deer demon challenges him. Don't use cheap tricks or mirrored what you tried with your ex. If you really want to have something with me, then I want the real version of you, not a generic conqueror. I want the real Lucifer. Behave as if each person is their own because, surprise, that’s how it works."
"Okay... Okay,” he says, at first deflated by the (deserved) scolding and then filling with conviction when Alastor's thumb absently strokes his knuckles. "What can I do to show you that I'm serious about this?"
"You could start by explaining to me why you're so interested in me, for example."
Praise him? That's easy! Lucifer might have a chance after all.
Except that when he opens his mouth to speak, smiling, he finds himself at a loss for words. Alastor looks at him expectantly, eyebrows raised and mouth small, as he waits for a coherent answer that doesn't come.
"Why?" He begins after a moment, almost as if mulling it over. "I suppose because it's you. Because I like the sound of your laugh... the real, honest one. Because I like your smiles when they're real, and I've seen a few of them already, don't try to deny it." Alastor blinks a couple of times rapidly, as if not expecting the torrent of honesty after what seemed like a silent fall. "Because, along with the rest of this bunch of weirdos we are, you've reminded me that even though Hell is a punishment, there are people here who retain some good, some kindness. That beauty can be found in the strangest places."
"You insult me, your majesty."
"I am serious. Yes, you're a feared cruel Overlord with an excessively high bodycount, but you respond to kindness with kindness. You dismiss the concern of others, but you always arrange for home-cooked food at the hotel for when someone gets hungry. You rescue Niffty every day no matter what hole she gets into, help Charlie with whatever she asks for, don't let Vaggie's weapons get dusty, fix the explosions in Cherri's workshop before she asks you to, put treats near every time Angel Dust comes back from a shoot, and make sure Husk's favorite music is always playing on the radio we had at the bar. We've all noticed these little things by now, but no one says anything because we know you'd hate it."
"If you know I hate it, then you have the most outlandish courtship techniques."
"You wanted to know why I fell in love with you, there you go." Lucifer shrugs his shoulders. He lets go of his hand, but only to dare to brush his cheek. As before the kiss in the restaurant, Alastor freezes. "I'm not looking to woo you now, only to convince you that I'm serious."
The deer demon waits a few seconds to answer. He swallows and tries not to think about the pleasant warmth of the fallen angel's touch when, finally, he asks:
"What do you expect from me, Lucifer?"
"Only what you're willing to give me."
"What do you want, then?"
This time it is Lucifer who swallows. He cradles Alastor's cheek before taking another step in his direction. This time, the Radio Demon doesn't back down. He just waits, lips parted in the promise of a smile.
"All of you. I want it all."
There is no invitation other than the slightly bowed head in his cupped hand, but Alastor is a language Lucifer is learning to speak fluently. Their lips meet halfway in the space between them in a much slower kiss than the one in the restaurant. This time there is no desperation, but curiosity. It's not violent; they are trying to understand, to experiment. Alastor responds to his lip movements slowly, as if searching for the frequency on which to broadcast. The King of Hell does not know whether or not he ends up finding it, but certainly when they part he does not seem displeased. Now his two hands cradle the face of the precious demon, while Alastor allows himself to run his arms around his neck, fingers intertwined behind his hair.
"Your turn. What do you want from me, Alastor?"
Although the deer demon thinks about it for a few seconds, looking beyond him, to Hell, he finally sighs.
"Right now, I want to see where this takes us,” he admits, his voice devoid of any filter, real and beautiful. "Calmly, though, and without impromptu marriage proposals. I hated that."
"That's fine." Lucifer smiles, because it may not be the most enthusiastic yes in the world, but it's a good opportunity. "Maybe I was a little bit... a lot too hasty."
"And maybe I was wrong to let you down without saying anyting." Alastor shrugs. "No hard feelings?"
"No hard feelings." Before Alastor even knows where the blows are coming from, the King of Hell is hugging him. Answering back is an impulse he doesn't dislike in the least. Not now and not like this. "Am I disturbing you?" Alastor shakes his head. Clumsy, a first-timer perhaps, he rests a hand on his head by way of a pat. He tries to be comforting, maybe even show affection in his own way, but instead he elicits laughter from the King of Hell. "Are you okay with the kisses, by the way?"
"They're... something else,” the Radio Demon admits, as if he's not quite sure if he likes them or not. Maybe a bit. A little bit. "Ask first, okay?"
"Okay. Can I...?"
"Yes."
***
Waking up next to Alastor when the sun tinges the skies of Hell with crimson is like a dream that Lucifer dared not even fantasize about until it has come true. The deer demon rests beside him on the giant bed that crowns the room of the King of Hell. It is, the fallen angel reminds himself with some amusement, the second time he has slept there.
But it is also the first time they sleep together, and this image is way better than having him comatose.
Although Lucifer is the first to open his eyes, it doesn't take long for his inspection to disturb the Radio Demon. His inspection and, perhaps, the caresses with which he traces first the silhouette of his face, the bridge of his nose, and then the curve of his arms still covered by his dress shirt. And while Alastor does not know how to qualify all this, the taste it leaves in his mouth is... pleasant.
"Hi."
"Hi,” the deer demon replies with the softest of smiles decorating his features, eyes still half-closed. "I must admit, I could get used to this."
"So could I,” says Lucifer, delighted. "Have I ever told you you're beautiful?"
"No, but you can repeat it as much as you like."
"And kiss you again?"
"Inside this room, whenever you want."
Lucifer takes it as a concession, because it is, and before the Radio Demon realizes it, his lips have been kidnapped again and again by The Devil himself, who, hungry for kisses, preys on him. Oh, poor Alastor, who hopelessly surrenders to his caresses.
He doesn't seem to be suffering from it, anyway. This new status and this new way of bonding (and, beyond that, all those new looks and smiles on Lucifer's part) aren't bad at all.
The rest of the hotel, however, don't know what has happened tonight. When Lucifer and Alastor walk through the kitchen door together, a little later, very just in time for breakfast, looking rested and at ease they are met with a myriad of astonished stares and wide eyes. While the Radio Demon pays them not the slightest attention as he pours two cups of coffee and holds one out to Lucifer with astonishing domesticity (it's easy to do this, as if they've been doing it forever; it's easy to get used to the King of Hell's love and, though he should be afraid of it, he's just enjoying it for now; he'll deal with the consequences later when they come back to bite his ass) the fallen angel does give a thumbs up to Husk, grinning from ear to ear. The poor waiter is about to choke on his Irish coffee.
Of course, the exchange of drinks and the pleasant familiarity between the two demons does not go unnoticed by anyone but, for a few moments, the hotel members just have breakfast in placid silence, slowly processing what they are seeing. That is, until Charlie dares to break the ice.
"From the look on your faces,” she begins, eyes bright with excitement, ”I take that the two-dads-thing is no longer a joke, is it?"
As Lucifer chokes on his coffee and coughs, Alastor gives a huge, cocky grin.
"Be careful, dear,” he says, and Vaggie and Angel Dust too choke on their breakfast. "You wouldn't want our daughter to worry, would you?"
Yeah... He can get used to this. And so can Lucifer.