Chapter Text
Of all the things Alastor’s magic could have conjured after allowing its chaos to take the reins tonight, he didn’t think that would manifest. The sight of such a simple blue-black cable hanging from a crooked branch at the front of his room’s newest bayou growth would be ignored by everyone else in this hotel, save raising a few eyebrows at the sight of an inorganic object springing up from a nature-based environment. To him, however, it was a sign of something far more painful.
As Alastor stood locked in place, low static shorting out, microphone loosely hanging in his fingers, and lips barely forming what could be counted as a smile, dread radiated through him at the sight. This wasn’t just any cable replica that could have manifested, but it was identical to the cable that Vox used to charge himself at night. As unpleasant as it was to see anything related to Vox, it was worse to be reminded of the reason why he knew of that cable – a reason that he now feverishly fought against playing in his mind.
A broken noise escaped him, automatically causing his static to heighten to cover the noise of his pain. Despite being alone, Alastor wouldn’t allow weakness to exist, not even here. Yet, regardless of the successful drowning out external signs of his distress, he couldn’t fully block out the memories reminding him of one of his worst experiences in hell.
The easiest solution would be to use his magic and burn the cable away, but he couldn’t raise his free hand to do so. Alastor tried, but in the end all that happened was an involuntary quiver of his fingers as his hand rested against his thigh.
Suddenly, his inner voice demanded that he stop being controlled by a stupid object. The voice insisted that he collect his emotions and squash them until they suffocated and died. Surely then he’d be free enough to destroy the fucking thing. The best way to do that was to drink until everything was numb enough that he could use his magic and free himself from the unexpected torture.
Turning to his cabinet where he stored his private alcohol stash, Alastor was disheartened as he looked at the empty shelf. He cursed, remembering that his last bottle was finished with plans to replenish his supply on his next run to cannibal town. One that would have happened by now if not for a certain new interest taking up too much of his free time. Alastor sorely wanted to place all the blame on anyone but himself, and it was very tempting to blame Lucifer for his lack of available escapism.
Grinding his teeth, Alastor voice crackled as he realized his only option. “I suppose that leaves Husker’s bar as my only option for tonight. How lovely.”
Twirling his microphone in hand to shake off the lingering weakness, he brightened his smile and relaxed the corner of his eyes to hide the pain burning inside. Hopefully this will eliminate the chances of someone daring to ask him if he felt okay while he drank in a semi-public space tonight.
All things considered, today went great for Lucifer, even here in his hotel office for easy royal access. His regular personal struggles didn’t twist his insides as much as they usually did – in fact, he hadn’t made any ducks since waking to cope with them. A true and rare feat for him. This called for a celebratory drink, even this late. He would have celebrated during “happy hour,” as a couple hotel residents called late afternoon, but only now had he finished his paperwork for this month. A month of paperwork completely done! After decades of ignoring it, he was finally catching up on current events (did decades old paperwork even count anymore?).
Grabbing his cane and briefly pondering what had happened to his hat, Lucifer smoothed out his jacket and opted to pick the hallway just outside the bar area to teleport. He didn’t need to give Husk another jump scare, so he would appear just beyond the hallway’s arching doorway from where the bartender could easily see him coming.
What Lucifer hadn’t anticipated when he teleported into the hallway was seeing the shadows finish stirring upward and turning into Alastor, the demon’s back facing him. His heart raced when he saw Alastor, the rise of mixed emotions bubbling fast. No one had caused as much simultaneous vigilance and exhilaration as much as Alastor in all his long years. Lilith had caused plenty of exhilaration, but it was starkly different than what Alastor invoked.
Lucifer swallowed and casually called out before Alastor was close to rounding the corner to the bar area, “Hey, Al. What brings you out this late?”
He expected Alastor to have already known about his presence since the overlord was always hyperaware of his own surroundings, but the flinch and sudden head spin that pointed Alastor’s chin unnaturally past his shoulder said differently. There was the slightest pause as Alastor seized him up, as if deciding how to acknowledge the greeting.
Whatever possible replies that ran through The Radio Demon’s head, he settled on a quick response. One said with a tense tone, bordering on curt and not open to continuing conversation. “Good evening, your Majesty. Or I supposed night, as I believe evening has technically passed. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a matter to attend.” His head snapped back to a normal forward position, and he resumed walking towards the hallway corner.
The fallen angel frowned; there was something about Alastor’s clipped tone and his body language that screamed “not okay.” Normally such a tone was reserved for him in public when others were around as they quipped, but there was not a sound anywhere beyond the pair, let alone any watchful eyes. In private, they were becoming more open with each other, or at least more willingly interested. So far nothing particularly romantic had happened between them, but Lucifer had come to understand Alastor with enough experiential intimacy to know his body language was off.
If he didn’t react fast, Alastor would reach the bar area in seconds at his brisk pace, and Lucifer’s gut told him not to let that happen just yet. His magic shimmered around him and instantly brought him less than a pace behind Alastor, where he grabbed Alastor’s free arm. He had considered teleporting in front of Alastor, but he suspected the lanky deer demon would crash into him before either of them could stop Alastor.
A startled bleat escaped as Alastor’s hooves almost slipped out from under him, causing Lucifer to instinctively step forward and place a hand along Alastor’s lower back to steady him. “Whoa,” he murmured. “Sorry about stopping you so suddenly.”
Righting himself back upright, Alastor gave the closest expression to a scowl that Lucifer had ever seen on him. He tugged his hand away from Lucifer, but Lucifer’s other hand remained on Alastor’s back. “And pray tell, your Majesty, what was that about?”
“Can we talk somewhere a little more private?” Lucifer didn’t want to start prodding where someone might eventually appear, because he knew that with his luck it’d be at a crucial moment while conversing.
“What could we possibly need to discuss right now that requires privacy?” His scowling eyes didn’t relax.
“Well, for one, I’ve never seen you so tense and unhappy before, and I’ve seen a lot of your moods over the months I’ve been here.” When Alastor’s twisted smile shrunk, Lucifer tried to ease the demon’s demeanor by softly rubbing his lower back.
Whatever was bothering Alastor, that soft touch in an intimate area proved to be the wrong move. He suddenly dropped into his shadow form before corporealizing back into his usual self at the corner. With a hard step Alastor was now in sight of the bar.
Lucifer exhaled, deciding to follow Alastor to the bar for a different reason than his earlier plans. His eagerness to celebrate the day was gone, forgotten as concern for Alastor pulsed through him instead.
The bar was empty of all other patrons, allowing Husk to prepare Alastor’s drink before his owner reached the counter. Alastor sat at one end of the bar, turning his body to face Husk in a way that his long legs blocked the stool next to him from being occupied. Lucifer could take a hint, and sat three stools down, at the opposite end. His own body was rotated just enough to keep a side eye on Alastor, curious to see what would come of Alastor’s unusual mood.
“What can I get you, King?” Husk asked him after serving Alastor his usual rye whiskey.
“I don’t know, what did I have last time? It was good,” Lucifer grinned, feeling a little silly about his faulty memory.
“Apple martini,” Husk supplied.
“That, then. Please.”
The bartender served him and then returned to cleaning glasses from the earlier happy hour. Judging by the number of glasses in the drying rack, and the number of dirty cups still waiting, Lucifer suspected the rest of the hotel had their fill for the night.
Silence settled between all three of them, and to Lucifer it was as awkward as possible. Alastor had his usual ambient noises, but even they were dulled.
“What’s got the king drinking tonight?”
“Hmm?” Lucifer asked as he turned to Husk, pulling his ponderings away from Alastor.
Husk repeated his question and Lucifer shrugged, barely pulling his original reason for coming here out of his preoccupied mind. “I finished a bunch of paperwork and felt like that was worth a drink. Although, in this hotel, I think a celebratory drink isn’t much of an oddity.”
The gambler chuckled. “You are right in that regard. Angel and Cherri were here earlier with some friends, celebrating…”
Time flew a little faster for Husk and Lucifer as they talked, Lucifer slowly drinking to keep from getting drunk as he intermittently monitored Alastor. The red-and-black patron didn’t have the same thoughts, as he drank steadily and stayed quiet throughout their conversations.
Eventually even Lucifer couldn’t stop noticing the discomfort in Husk’s body language at Alastor polishing off a bottle of whiskey that had been mostly full, only to threaten to cut off Husk’s tail if he didn’t open a new bottle. Lucifer closed his eyes and let out a slow exhale. “Husk, why don’t you take those cups to the kitchen and run them through the dishwasher to make sure they are thoroughly cleaned? In fact, you may want to make sure that finicky dishwasher doesn’t break and keep an eye on it for the full cycle.” He gave Husk a meaningful look, hoping to secretly convey a message of “let me talk to Alastor alone.”
“Ah, yeah.” Husk nodded and gathered up the cups in a bin. “Good idea.”
As soon as Husk was a few steps away with his bin, Alastor chimed into the conversation with mildly slurred words. “And where do you think you’re going?” He tilted the half-empty glass in his hand. “I don’t think alcohol serves itself.”
For his part, Husk grumbled, “In this hotel, it might.”
Just as Alastor looked irritated enough to say something cruel, Lucifer cut in, “I’ll take care of the alcohol. Decades of being a recluse taught me how to pour alcohol the right way, if that was ever an issue pouring straight whiskey. You just take care of those cups, Husk.”
“Right…” Husk hurried into the kitchen.
Alastor complained, “Now look what you’ve done.”
“You mean besides give us privacy to talk?” Lucifer thought of carefully constructing their conversation, but ultimately, he decided Alastor was drunk enough that being blunt was probably best.
“Ah… I see your Majesty has a master plan of manipulation after all.” Unsteadily Alastor raised his glass, drank half of the remaining whiskey, and then leaned onto the counter with his elbow. “And what is that plan?”
“To figure out what’s wrong. You aren’t yourself.” He uneasily gripped the stem of his martini glass.
“Tsk, tsk! Does your Majesty really think he knows a lowly sinner demon such as myself so well?” Alastor bitterly laughed.
Taking a deep breath, Lucifer slipped off his stool, abandoning both cane and drink, and slowly closed the distance to Alastor as if approaching an easily frightened animal. When he reached the stool Alastor was blocking, Lucifer leaned against the counter next to it, mimicking Alastor so that their eyes met. “How can I help?”
“What makes you think I need your help?”
Lucifer chewed his bottom lip. “You need someone’s help, and it seems I might be the closest one in this hotel you are willing to share some honesty. Well, perhaps Niffty too, but I imagine that’s a bit dependent on the topic. Regardless, I want to help.”
“There’s no help you can give…” Alastor trailed off as his eyes flickered down to his drink, and he gulped down what was left. “Now, if you’ll be so kind, given that you’ve chased off our bartender, I need another glass.”
Although not wanting to cause Alastor to slip further into a drunken demeanor, Lucifer was less thrilled about the idea of pissing off a violent Overlord with his inhibitions lowered. “You get one finger of rye,” he compromised.
“Two, every pour,” Alastor argued.
“No,” Lucifer replied firmly as he poured. “You’ll drink one finger slowly and I’ll only refill while you and I have our discussion. I’ll refill at my pace.”
In his own twisted fashion, the tensely smiling demon pouted. “Since when have you become so manipulative?”
“Since you won’t talk to me like a normal person.”
“We both know that I’m far from being as bland as a ‘normal’ person, so using such parameters against me are ill-fitting,” Alastor snipped begrudgingly as he sipped at his drink. “You may ask your questions, but I doubt I’ll give you the answers you want.”
“Just give me something I can work with, and you can have your alcohol.” Lucifer stood back up since Alastor wasn’t making eye contact anymore, instead keeping his eyes on his drink staying close to his lips. “Why are you feeling tense?”
“I think we can establish that this drink has made me anything but tense,” Alastor evaded.
Resisting rolling his eyes, Lucifer wanted to reassure Alastor that Lucifer was a source of comfort and not the enemy. While the development between the two of them was a curious one, riding the line of platonic and romantic (with a dose of being public rivals), Lucifer hadn’t pushed for anything yet. They had shared some touches, stood closer together than necessary, exchanged a few confidential thoughts, but nothing more than that.
Deciding to be bold and offer a bit of trust, Lucifer reached out and caressed Alastor’s hand resting on the counter. He had no real expectations, only hoped that it would be received positively. Instead, Alastor snatched his hand away as if burned.
“Don’t!” Alastor cried, in a voice more distressing than the demon would have normally allowed. Lucifer was instantly alarmed, both for Alastor’s reaction and for Husk to investigate.
His own hand retreated to show he was backing off – at least, physically speaking. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that would upset you. Perhaps we can talk elsewhere more comfortable, if this is upsetting?”
“Here by the alcohol is fine,” Alastor muttered. “Just don’t touch me.”
“Okay…” There was no getting Alastor to budge on location, and Lucifer would respect Alastor’s request for no contact. At least, respect it until there was a necessity to break it, he warily thought as he eyed Alastor slightly swaying in his seat. “You can’t deny you’re tense now.”
“I suppose that’s true. Give me a minute,” Alastor replied and swallowed the rest of his remaining drink. Sadly for Alastor, it was barely more than a few drops, and he growled. The glass clanked on the counter as he put it down. “I believe you said you’d be refilling as we talk.”
Lucifer obliged but tried to pour a little less than a finger of rye. In turn, Alastor growled again. “I may not have an entirely attentive mind at the moment, but even I know that is less than our agreement.”
“Fine, fine,” Lucifer muttered and added the difference.
For the next several minutes, Lucifer tried coaxing information out of Alastor. Nothing explaining Alastor’s true thoughts came out, and Lucifer finally pushed hard. “Your escape through alcohol is about to come crashing down if you keep evading. Not to mention that I’m also not going anywhere until you give me something more honest.”
“I already have one shadow; I don’t need two,” Alastor sneered – or at least tried to sneer, if not for his hiccup at the ned. “He’s better at doing my bidding too, which says a lot more about you than me, given how unruly he is. I’m not putting up with this, and just to show you, I’m leaving. I’ll take that bottle and finish it in my room.”
Alastor reached out to snatch the bottle from Lucifer’s hand, only for the fallen angel to jump back and tuck the bottle close to his body. The sinner tried to follow but stumbled forward. His footing tangled in the stool, and he began falling towards Lucifer.
Despite being startled by Alastor’s movements, Lucifer was quick at adapting. Using his free arm to grab Alastor around his waist, he opened a portal behind him as they both fell in the direction of Alastor’s path and landed them in the soft bedding of Lucifer’s room. The plush comforter made for a silky landing, with extra softness from the foam mattress covering.
When they landed, Lucifer was on his back with his arm trapped under Alastor’s stomach as the demon landed face-first into pillows. Rather than pull his arm free, Lucifer teleported the bottle to a nightstand and used his arm to roll so that Alastor was now on his back while Lucifer was resting above him. His hands were both pressed into the bed, keeping his body barely off Alastor’s.
Alastor’s eyes were swimming in confusion as they struggled to take in the change of scenery. “What happened?”
“You fell into me, and I thought it was time to have that privacy I’ve been repeatedly asking for, so we can have more honesty,” Lucifer pointedly explained.
Alastor groaned and dropped his glass as his hands came to his face, covering his eyes. The glass fell onto the comforter, rolled along the dip caused by Lucifer’s hand, and then fell off the bed onto the rug with a soft “thud.”
“What’s wrong?” Lucifer tried once again.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Alastor objected behind his hands.
“‘Want to,’ and need to, are totally different things. You may not want to talk about it, but it’s pretty clear you need to talk.” When no more came his way, Lucifer softly asked, “May I kiss your hands?” They had never done something so forward, but he hoped offering something of comfort might calm the demon, that maybe this would be a welcome touch if he asked first.
Alastor’s hands tilted to the sides of his face, resting the sides of his palms on cheeks, allowing him to gaze at Lucifer without dropping them. “You’re asking me for permission to give me a kiss?”
“I’m asking for permission to kiss your hands,” Lucifer gently retold.
Alastor groaned and let his hands fall back over his eyes. “Whatever your Majesty wants, I suppose it’s your right to take.”
“That’s never true,” Lucifer firmly rebutted, shocked by Alastor’s choice in words. “You will always have respect and autonomy with me. I will never treat you like an object for me to do as I please.”
For several long seconds there was no reply, and then Alastor quietly spoke. “Since you asked so nicely, I suppose I can allow you to have your reward.”
Choosing not to comment aloud on how that wasn’t exactly what he wanted to hear, Lucifer lowered himself down and let his breathing ghost over Alastor’s knuckles. He waited, and after a long moment of just softly breathing on Alastor’s fingers so that the deer demon could get used to the sense of the fallen angel hovering over him, Lucifer closed the gap and kissed Alastor’s hands with as much softness as he could. He trailed down each hand, from the middle knuckle of his fingers to the back of his palm. Sweet efforts to relax Alastor ended with a kiss to the tips of Alastor’s clawed pinky fingers resting on the bridge of his nose.
As he moved, he could hear Alastor’s breath at first stutter, but by the end his breathing had eased and calmed down. For all the fallen angel could read from the demon, the comfort Lucifer hoped to bring Alastor had worked. Judging by the relaxing tension in his own chest, Lucifer felt better himself.
This time Lucifer asked, his voice barely above a whisper, “Will my precious Bambi tell me what’s wrong?” His words were met with an unsteady deep breath, so he kissed Alastor’s hands again while slowly repeating his question.
At the end of repeating the kiss to the fingers covering Alastor’s nose, making sure to kiss Alastor’s forehead at the same time as the tips of his fingers, Alastor blurted out, “My magic was unusually cruel tonight.”
Pulling away just enough to search for Alastor’s eyes between the slits in his fingers, Lucifer asked, “What do you mean?”
“Never mind, it’s stupid of me to say.” Alastor grumbled.
Lucifer kissed Alastor in the middle of his forehead, earning him a soft bleat. “Nothing you ever say to me is stupid. Especially when you say it while it’s just us. What was your magic doing?”
“It… it was expanding my bayou.”
“Okay?” Lucifer prompted, knowing that wasn’t even half of the issue.
Taking the deepest breath, Alastor’s fingers quivered as he answered. “My magic sometimes takes on my emotions, whether I want it to or not. And sometimes those emotions are ones I refuse to acknowledge. It seems somehow a certain person I want to forget has been on my mind, as something of his manifested in my latest bayou expansion.”
“What was it?” Lucifer felt a little uneasy about the direction Alastor’s words were taking.
“A cable.”
“A cable? Like a phone cable, or perhaps an internet cable?” Lucifer furrowed his brows.
“No… more like a recharge cable for a picture box.” Alastor’s voice was so stilted and staticky that Lucifer struggled to understand every word.
“What does this cable represent to you?” he asked.
Alastor’s whole body shuddered, and he dropped his hands down to his sides. His eyes were pleading. “I can’t.”
Lucifer was caught off guard by the naked trouble and vulnerability in Alastor’s eyes, paired with the demon’s lips slightly trembling. “Can you please try? What troubles you won’t likely go away but instead fester if you don’t confront it.”
“I don’t think I can.” Alastor looked lost, perhaps having drunk so much he couldn’t hide his true feelings anymore.
“Would it be okay for me to hug you?” Lucifer asked as one hand softly brushed a strand away from Alastor’s monocle.
The caring motion proved to undo Alastor’s resistance. “I suppose you may.”
Lucifer lowered himself down until his upper body was half-rested on top of Alastor’s chest, bringing his arms around Alastor’s arms. While asking if what the Sin of Pride wanted to do next would’ve been best, Lucifer’s impulse was faster, and he swept Alastor up in his arms and rolled so that Alastor’s head ended up on Lucifer’s chest as Lucifer’s head rested on pillows. When Alastor gasped, Lucifer cooed as he wrapped his arms firmly around Alastor to form a cocoon of comfort. “Shh, it’s okay.”
Initially Alastor fumbled with the sudden shift in position, but as Lucifer continued to speak softly and caress him while he hugged the drunk demon, Alastor settled down. Eventually when Alastor’s breathing relaxed again, Lucifer asked, “What does that cable mean to you?”
“It’s… it’s…” Alastor turned and buried his face into Lucifer’s vest, his antlers catching on his jacket. Lucifer tenderly plucked the material free, more concerned with Alastor’s comfort than a possible tear in his clothing.
Alastor finally continued, “It represents a certain incident with Vox.”
“Vox… that’s the TV demon from the overlord trio, right? Oh, I just get your reference to the ‘picture box.’” While Lucifer hadn’t cared much about any overlord in a very long time, he was always vaguely aware of who was around and messing with his ring. That trio had been some of the peskier overlords of recent centuries. “What happened?”
Swallowing thickly, Alastor struggled to speak. “Many years back we were close friends. Or, at least, I thought we were simply close friends. Over time since our first meeting decades ago, I had come to take comfort in our friendship and believed that he would never try anything harmful, including using his hypnotism on me.”
Suddenly Alastor’s hands moved, and they curled up on Lucifer’s chest, balling his jacket. “One night he invited me for a private late-night discussion in his personal suite. Turned out he wanted me in his suite so he could hypnotize me while having his bedroom within easy range.”
Lucifer’s eyes widened and a sick feeling dropped his stomach to the floor. Stunned by the revelation so far, Lucifer could only listen as he feared where this would end. The damp hair on the back of his neck didn’t help quell his uneasy feelings.
“He tricked me soon after I arrived and I fell under his spell. He…” Alastor’s whole body shivered violently as he came to an abrupt stop.
Lucifer fought to keep from squeezing Alastor in a bear hug, wanting to close the miniscule distance between them and provide all the comfort he could possibly muster. Instead, he tilted his head to rest on Alastor’s head, fighting his own shivers and giving Alastor’s ear a kiss instead. He said nothing, afraid to ruin Alastor’s momentum.
Alastor shakily returned to where he left off. “He did get me to bed, and I remember lying down, being forced to keep continual visual contact with his eye so I wouldn’t break free. It would have worked, except he hadn’t properly secured a cable he used for sleep and the rough handling caused it to swing down and smack him hard in the face – hard enough to leave a crack. Clearly it startled him because he broke eye contact, and I had no more than a second to react before he resumed control.”
The hands balled around the lapels of Lucifer’s jacket began shaking. Once more swallowing thickly, Alastor blurted out, “He didn’t get what he wanted, just so you know.”
Gently caressing Alastor’s back, Lucifer spoke into Alastor’s ear, “I’m glad to hear that at least. Please keep going.”
“There’s hardly anything more to tell,” Alastor replied, tilting his head just enough to look at Lucifer from the side but not expose his face. The motion pulled Alastor’s ear away from Lucifer’s mouth, and Lucifer mourned the lost contact. “I broke free, I escaped, and I never went back.”
Softly clearing his throat, Lucifer asked the first of many questions on his mind. “Al, have you told anyone this before?”
“No.” He suddenly laughed in a self-deprecating tone. “Between dealing with what he did, and my lack of interest in someone considered highly desirable by most sinners, I don’t need anyone thinking I’m broken.”
“You aren’t –” Lucifer started to exclaim before cutting himself off. He tried again, this time using a more coaxing and less excited voice. However, he still wanted to convey security and conviction in what he was about to say, so he gently squeezed Alastor. “You’re not broken. You didn’t do anything to deserve what he did, and you can turn down anyone you want. Anyone who thinks you should let a predator take advantage of you because the asshole is hot, well, they’re a moron. Worse than a moron.”
Silence followed until Alastor murmured, “I’m surprised you even believe me.”
“Of course I believe you. It took a lot of courage to tell me.” Courage, alcohol, and one cold trigger to bring forth these memories, but Lucifer only voiced that one word. “I don’t suppose you’re in a state of mind to unpack all of that?” Under no means was he a therapist, but maybe he could be a stand-in for the night.
For a few long seconds, Alastor just watched him; then Alastor mumbled, “I’m tired.”
“Understandable.” Although disappointed to end the conversation now but not willing to push, Lucifer began shifting to let Alastor go. He barely moved when he was abruptly stopped by Alastor tightening his grip on his lapels, and the demon burying his head further into Lucifer’s chest.
“No,” Alastor refused to move.
“No?”
“No,” Alastor repeated. “I don’t want to move from here.”
Alastor’s defiance in order to keep them connected warmed Lucifer’s heart. “You can sleep here for however long you need.” He gave another squeeze and then settled down into his pillows and the top of his comforter. “Do you want me to conjure the blankets to wrap around us?”
“I’m warm enough,” Alastor declined as he relaxed into Lucifer.
“So am I,” Lucifer agreed, hoping his little white lie wouldn’t lead to too much discomfort.
The pressure on his lips woke Lucifer up. Groggy as ever when the first rays of light pierced his eyelids, he turned away from both light and unexpected pressing touch. A different pressure caught his cheek, pushing his lips back to where they were before he moved his head.
“Mrmph?” Lucifer slurred in confusion as his eyes fluttered open.
Alastor lifted his head, his lips and hand leaving Lucifer’s face as he looked the king straight in his eyes. “Your ability to kiss while asleep is not your best skill. Perhaps a kiss while awake would be better.”
Despite the demon appearing a little sharper in mind, but not entirely sober, Lucifer was caught off-guard by the sudden change in behavior. When Alastor’s lips reconnected with his, Lucifer automatically kissed back before his foggy brain caught up.
He pushed Alastor back by the demon’s shoulders, trying to end the lip lock. Alastor snarled but allowed himself to back off. The sinner demanded, “Why are you fighting me?”
Lucifer blinked a couple times to clear the last of the fog from his mind. “I’m not fighting you; I’m fighting against suddenly going too fast when you’re feeling drunk and vulnerable. Especially when you consider the pace we’ve been going at, before last night.”
“I’m hardly drunk, and I’m never vulnerable,” Alastor declared.
“Mildly intoxicated, tipsy, buzzed, whatever you want to call it, you aren’t of completely sound mind. Especially after everything you said and left unsaid before we fell asleep,” Lucifer pointed out.
Alastor’s face scrunched in displeasure. “I want you. I want you, under my terms.”
“You can have me when both our ‘terms’ – or needs, as they’re better called – are on the same page. I need you to be okay before we go any further, and right now you aren’t okay.”
Frustration quickly manifested in Alastor’s eyes, and he pushed away. “If you won’t have me now, then you won’t have me later.” Without allowing any further words, Alastor dematerialized and disappeared from the room.
A hand rose to Lucifer’s temple, and he groaned. For a poor situation that held promise of growth between them, it ended badly. He could only hope that the reminder of the new day would repair the situation, but his heart didn’t beat with much confidence.