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Quite frankly, Lucifer had no idea how he’d ended up in this position.
It started as all bewildering things usually did: with copious amounts of alcohol. It had been a month since Vox’s death ray had been destroyed and the Vees had gone into hiding to patch their reputation, the exterminations were cancelled indefinitely, and the Hazbin Hotel was booming with sinners looking to start on the path to redemption. Well. Maybe not booming. But successful nonetheless!
Charlie had suggested a night for the original members to celebrate; it turns out there aren’t many ways to celebrate in Hell other than drinking. So Cherri, Husk, Alastor, Nifty, Lucifer, Charlie, and Vaggi had all gathered around the bar, pulling up stools and chairs and raising a glass to redemption - or whatever else they fancied raising a glass to.
And the night had been fun! Drinking, laughing, swapping stories, taking the piss out of the Vees… it had all blended into a pleasantly tipsy haze, and several hours later, the group were still talking away and enjoying each other’s company. They’d moved to the comfort of the sofas with drinks in hand, and Lucifer let warmth wash over him as he took another sip of his apple whiskey.
“So wait- that whole Japanese song, that was you being nice about the hotel?”
“Mhm.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?!”
Lucifer chuckled at the look on his daughter’s face. He sank further into the sofa, breathing a sigh. He was far from drunk; in fact, he hadn’t even hit tipsy yet. Archangel biology, yada yada. But this… sitting with family, having people to speak to, sitting barely an inch away from his favourite redheaded demon, it was enough to make him feel downright cosy.
Speaking of his favourite redhead demon, Lucifer turned his head to the side to glance at Alastor. The pair had been dating - or courting, as Alastor preferred to call it - for several months now, and they’d reached a comfortable equilibrium that suited them both. Constant bickering, sleeping in each other’s rooms, incredibly rare but mind-blowing sex, and the safe companionship that comes from being in love.
This was all well and good, but it came with one singular problem during nights like these: they hadn’t actually told anyone yet.
Lucifer wasn’t a private person by any means, but Alastor was, and whilst he hadn’t completely ruled out the idea of letting the others know about their relationship, he’d asked shyly if they could keep it to themselves, at least for a little while. The fallen angel was more than happy to comply if it made his love more comfortable.
Alastor took a long drag of the cigarette he’d produced from some pocket dimension and followed it up with a sip of rye. Just looking at him, Lucifer could tell he was drunk. And why not? The poor sinner had earned it after the debacle with Vox! A soft smile rested at the corners of his lips, and the angel resisted the urge to smooth over it with a kiss.
Lucifer tried to focus his attention back on the conversation at hand, which had somehow turned onto the most effective ways to deploy a bomb - no doubt Cherri’s contribution to the night’s entertainment. He went to comment (not that he knew much about bombs) when he felt a claw trace against his waist. He bit back a gasp of surprise and whipped his head to Alastor, who was looking at him with drunken tenderness in his eyes that made Lucifer swoon. After discarding his empty glass with a crackle of green energy, the sinner slowly, deliberately moved his hand into the fallen angel’s, staring pointedly at him.
Lucifer knew exactly what Alastor wanted, but this was completely new territory. It wasn’t as if they were hidden away in some dark corner; they were in the middle of a group discussion, hotel guests on all sides and with a clear view of the pair. But as Alastor flipped his hand over, palm up, and gave a soft hfft of impatience, Lucifer decided to throw all caution to the wind.
He flicked a claw before starting to trace slow, looping circles across the sinner’s palm, who let out a quiet hum of staticky approval. It was something Alastor had always liked - touch-starved as he was - but so rarely had the confidence to ask for. But if he’d found that confidence through liquor, well, who was the King of Hell to deny him? Alastor smiled at him, and the warmth it ignited in the king’s chest could’ve lit a thousand suns.
He once again tried to focus his attention on the group.
“But doesn’t it still mean vagina even if you drop the ‘e’ off the end?”
Husk looked confusedly at Vaggi, and Lucifer tried to concentrate on that rather than the feeling of Alastor’s hand beneath his claws. Nobody had noticed yet, luckily, so this little gesture wouldn’t out them too much-
The angel’s eyes widened as he felt Alastor’s head come to rest on top of his own.
Well. So much for subtlety.
The radio demon curled his legs up beneath him, and it took less than a few seconds of adjusting until he was all but sat in the king’s lap, eyes closed and static purring loudly from him like a lazy housecat lounging in the sun. Oh god. He was so drunk.
Slowly but surely, conversation in the room drew to an uneasy stop as, one by one, the confused sinners turned to face the pair. Lucifer felt his face heat up and tried to pull away, only for the tipsy sinner to wrap his long arms around him and cement him in place.
“Um… Alastor? You okay there?” Charlie’s voice cut through the silence, and Lucifer prayed for God to smite him then and there. This was not how their announcement was supposed to go!
“Hm?” Alastor responded sleepily, opening his eyes and remaining resolutely wrapped around Lucifer. “Ah, yes, quite alright, dear! Simply a little cold, that’s all.” To prove his point, he nuzzled into the king’s hair and sighed. Lucifer simply swallowed nervously, giving his daughter a winning smile. Hopefully, she’d drop it.
“Seriously, Smiles, what the fuck has gotten into you?”
No such luck, then.
It was Husk who’d piped up this time, and he was looking between Alastor and Lucifer like the pair had grown extra limbs.
“Why, Husker, no need for such profanities!” The demon slurred, sliding his head onto Lucifer’s shoulder and rubbing against the soft jumper covering it. “Is it not customary that a man might share an embrace with his lover on a quiet evening?”
Fuck!
“Sir?” Vaggi cut in, turning to Lucifer, the same look of pure disbelief and perplexion on her face as was reflected on the rest of the group.
Lucifer’s arm reached around and tucked Alastor more securely against his side. “...Surprise?” He chuckled awkwardly.
All at once, the room was a flurry of activity. Both Nifty and Husk stood in surprise - Nifty with a devilish grin on her face, Husk looking as though he’d just been told that pigs could fly. Charlie was squealing with excitement, Vaggi at her side with one hand on her shoulder and the other eyeing Alastor suspiciously. Cherri was wheeze-laughing, wiping tears from her eyes. Not as bad as it could’ve been, Lucifer thought.
“Dad! Why didn’t you tell me that you two were together? I didn’t even know you were- or that Alastor was-”
“There are a lot of things about your father that you don’t know, Charlie, dear-” Alastor began with a wicked smile before Lucifer clamped a porcelain hand over his mouth.
“That’s enough of that, thank you!” Alastor nipped at his palm, giggling as Lucifer winced, pulling the hand away and turning to look at him with fond annoyance. “You’re impossible.”
“Thank you, darling.”
“Anyway…” Lucifer cleared his throat, turning to look at the gaggle of sinners, angels, and hell-spawn he’d come to call family. They were all looking at him expectantly. “Well… there’s not much to say, I guess. Alastor and I are together, have been for a couple months. All that bullshit enemies-to-lovers jazz, you know the score. We’d planned on telling you all at some point, just not-” He looked down at the demon in his lap and stroked a hand down his arm. “Just not like this. But someone is a touchy drunk, so- here we are!”
“Quite! Exactly that. Couldn’t have said it better myself!” Alastor added.
“You’ve lost speaking privileges, you drunkard,” the fallen angel retorted, and the radio demon chuckled in response.
“Oh, that’s so sweet!”
“Bitchin’,” Cherri chimed in, still half-laughing. “Sorry, I just- out of all the cunts to shack up in this joint, you two would’ve been my last guess!”
“That’s a fair assumption. To be fair, I don’t think we saw it coming either,” Lucifer conceded, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly and looking down at the sinner who was half asleep in his arms, before adding a quiet: “I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
“I’m happy for you, Sir,” Vaggi said, still glancing at Alastor but with slightly less suspicion.
“Us too! Happy that Alastor has found someone to look after him properly,” Nifty added, looking up at Husk, who shook his head and laughed.
“Sure. What the hell. Happy for you both.”
“Well! Now that that’s been explained, I find myself rather tired,” Alastor exclaimed, standing up so suddenly he nearly toppled over in the process, grabbing onto Lucifer’s outstretched hand for support. “Time for- for bed, I think.”
Lucifer smiled up at where the still-drunk sinner was looking at him expectantly before catching on. “Oh! Bed- me, bed?”
Alastor rolled his eyes and yanked him upwards, which he took as an emphatic yes. Lucifer stood on unsteady legs, cradling the demon that had suctioned himself to his side and shooting the others an apologetic glance.
“I’m gonna get him to bed before he reveals any more of his closely guarded secrets. You guys have a good night!”
And with that, he started to guide Alastor upstairs, pretending valiantly to ignore the stares of the others burning into his back. Just another night in the Hazbin Hotel!
***
“C’mon, Bambi, bedtime.”
It had taken a significant amount of effort - and maybe a little sprinkle of magic here and there - to get Alastor back up into his own room. The drunkenness wasn’t even beginning to fade to sobriety, so the demon let himself be manoeuvred like a ragdoll, eventually being led to collapse onto his four-poster bed with a soft huff.
Lucifer looked at where Alastor was sprawled out on the bed, face down with his tail in the air, and he’d never been more in love.
“Can I get you in pyjamas? Is that okay?”
He received a sleepy little ‘mhm’ in response, but the deer remained in his exact position, clearly not up for moving. He knew Lucifer would do it for him. And the dopey love-sick dickhead he was - of course Lucifer would do it for him.
Lucifer deliberated for a moment on his way to the walk-in wardrobe before an idea formed and a devilish grin spread across his face. Alastor would never allow it sober, but drunk…
The angel returned moments later, a pink fuzzy duck jumper and Alastor’s usual baggy sleep pants clutched in his claws.
“C’mon, let’s get you changed.” Alastor didn’t respond, just lay with sleepy pliability as Lucifer stripped him of his usual suit with the gentility of the holy angel he hadn’t been in aeons. He finished by pulling the jumper over the deer’s head, careful not to snag his horns in the process. “Comfy?”
Alastor looked down at the duck-themed garment he’d been put into, and Lucifer expected a snide quip, or perhaps an outright refusal to wear it. Instead, the demon brought the collar up to his face and nuzzled it like a baby deer before sighing contentedly.
“Smells like you.”
Lucifer choked a little on his own gasped inhale, flushing bright gold and barely containing the smile that spread across his warm face. “Does it now?”
“Mhm.”
“You are insanely drunk,” the king laughed, pulling off all his clothes bar his apple boxers and sliding onto the bed to take up the space Alastor had rolled over to leave for him. “And insanely cute.”
“M’not cute,” the deer retorted, fitting his much longer body into the contours of Lucifer’s. He’d already started to doze off. “I’ll… eat you. Pull out your heart. Make coffee ‘n use your blood as syrup.”
“You say such sweet things, Al.”
A moment of silence passed between the pair as Alastor arranged himself and Lucifer to his liking, which resulted in the angel lying on his back and Alastor curled into his side with his head resting on Lucifer’s slender chest. Lucifer was sure his heart must be pounding - even after months, being this close to the demon gave him butterflies. He felt like a schoolgirl with a crush. He hoped the feeling would never go away.
A clawed finger poked his nipple and he flinched, a laugh bursting from him before he could stop it. “The fuck was that for?”
“Hm.” Alastor’s eyes were still closed, but he nudged his head into Lucifer’s chest in some sort of secret sleepy sign that the king was apparently supposed to be able to read.
“You gotta give me a clue here, sweetie.”
Alastor sighed again before leaning over to grab Lucifer’s wrist and clumsily bring his hand to-
Oh. Ohh.
“You want me… to pet your ears?” Lucifer whispered with awe. In all the time they’d been together, the sinner had been extremely clear about his boundaries surrounding ear-touching; under no circumstances was Lucifer to touch them. He’d provided no explanation, not that the angel needed one. But if he was really asking…
Taking hesitation as reluctance, Alastor let go of Lucifer’s wrist and shook his head. “Don’t have to, I-”
“No, no, I want to!” Lucifer interrupted quickly, craning his neck to look at him. “I just- are you sure? I mean, you don’t usually…”
“This isn’t ‘usually’,” the demon hummed in response, and as his most coherent sentence since he started drinking, Lucifer didn’t question it any further. He moved his hand back to where Alastor had put it initially, and slowly, experimentally, scratched his claws against the base of a red ear.
The reaction was instantaneous; Alastor pushed into the touch with a sound that was almost akin to a purr, and the angel watched in amazement as he relaxed bonelessly against him.
“Like that?”
“Mhm. Don’t stop.”
Lucifer wouldn’t have if the whole of Hell had burned down around them. He traced meaningless patterns up and down Alastor’s ears, marvelling at the trust the demon was showing him. He noted the motions or places that made him shiver with pleasure and focused on those until Alastor was all but squirming with happiness beneath him. An age passed (or ten minutes or so) before Alastor spoke again.
“Feels nice. Thank you.”
“No need to thank me, Bambi,” Lucifer chuckled softly. “Can I ask you something?” He waited for a barely-there nod against his chest before proceeding. “Did you… did you know you were going to tell everyone about us tonight? Before you got drunk?”
The demon paused, and then nodded again.
“Can I ask why? I mean, I’m not mad - if anything, I’m glad they know. But you always insisted, and I guess I just assumed it was a secret you were planning to keep longer. If not forever.”
At that, Alastor pushed himself up onto unsteady elbows with arms bracketing Lucifer’s chest, and looked him dead in the eye.
“Never forever. Only… only until m’sure of you. But now- now m’sure. I got tired of hiding.” He picked the king’s hand up, just like he did earlier, but this time he placed it against his face, his smile soft. “Tired of- not touching.”
Lucifer swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and pulled himself up to place a kiss against Alastor’s warm lips. The demon kissed back, but there was no urgency, no demand. There was just affection.
“Well. No more not-touching, okay? No more. I’m all yours, no matter who sees.”
“All mine,” Alastor hummed, settling back onto Lucifer’s chest. “I like that.”
Within minutes, he was asleep, a dead weight ontop of the angel. But as he ran his claws through red hair, Lucifer couldn’t find it in himself to care.
All yours. No matter who sees.
That was a promise he was excited to keep.