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As a C-Ranked Guide, Alastor spent most of his time doing grunt work. While powerful enough to receive proper training through the academy, he wasn’t assigned to a single Esper and likely never would be. Sure, there were regular compatibility tests, but as he’d never ranked higher than the baseline sixty percent with anyone, he was better suited to providing general Guidance on the battlefield than anything else.
No, it didn’t carry the same prestige as working with an individual Esper, but he planned to complete his mandatory ten-year contract and get out. Though with the frequency of portals increasing, and the seemingly infinite number of exorcists that came through them, it didn’t look promising…
Granted, no amount of training would have prepared him for this.
A double event. The first on record. Two portals and twice as many exorcists. Worse, they’d targeted Imp City, which was more an extension of the nearby IMP military base than the bustling metropolis its name implied. Despite deploying every able-bodied Guide and Esper in the vicinity, they were vastly outnumbered. It would be at least another hour before reinforcements arrived.
Their carefully curated battle formations had fallen apart like a house of cards. Alastor didn’t know what had become of his squad or the D-Rank Esper assigned to protect them. If he had to guess, judging by the extensive carnage, they were all probably dead.
As he dove for cover, narrowly avoiding a blast of divine power, he wondered if measuring his own remaining lifespan in minutes might be too ambitious.
A Guide without an Esper might as well be a Null. He had no abilities of his own to protect himself. He was meant to heal Espers. To cleanse them of Sin, the negative energy they generated through the use of their powers, so they could keep fighting. Otherwise, the Sin would accumulate in their system until it corrupted them, sending them into a frenzy where they couldn’t tell friend from foe.
If he found one to partner with, he might make it out alive. Or survive long enough for reinforcements to arrive. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are! I can sense you, Demon!” called the Archangel leading the charge.
Adam, the head of Heaven’s forces. Alastor recognized him on sight from the newspapers and military briefs. The black and white photos had done little to prepare him for the man’s sheer power and presence.
The exorcists themselves underwent rigorous training. He’d expected the same from their leader, but Adam didn’t bother with tactics or strategy. As an S-Rank, he didn’t have to. He could be as undisciplined and sloppy as he liked.
Alastor shrank further in on himself, arms coming up to protect his head. As if that or the crumbling wall he hid behind would protect him. As if a single, direct hit wouldn’t vaporize the wall, his arms, and the rest of him.
But then, the strangest thing happened. Alastor thought he might sense him too.
“Oh, fuck yes,” Adam continued, drawing closer (or at least he thought so). “Looks like it’s my lucky day! Been a while since we came across one of you cunts!”
The bulk of the wall above him vanished in a blast of divine power. Alastor clenched his eyes shut to avoid being blinded by it.
Why the fuck was Adam so focused on him? He was just a low-level Guide! There were plenty of more interesting and powerful people to murder!
If any of them were still alive…
He felt the breeze from the Archangel’s wings as he soared overhead, hovering midair as he scanned the rubble. It was a long shot, but Alastor tried playing dead, hoping the bastard would mistake him for one of the dozens of other corpses or assume he’d died from his last blast.
Alastor slid his eyes closed, slumping with his neck at an angle that made his muscles burn. Enough blood and debris coated him that he had to have some chance of blending in.
They snapped open, however, as Adam yanked him into the air by the back of his uniform like a scruffed dog. He dangled in his hold, making direct eye contact.
“Gotcha,” the Archangel said with a leer. “Y’know, you’re not too bad on the eyes for a Demon.” As he spoke, he brought his other hand up, and Alastor flinched back as he grabbed him by the jaw.
He turned Alastor’s head from side to side as he studied him.
What the fuck? Hadn’t he just been trying to kill him?
“Whaddya think, Lute? Wanna make a bet on how long he lasts?”
He hadn’t realized Adam’s Guide was there too until Adam drew his attention to where she flapped nearby. Her mask wasn’t as expressive as his, but Alastor got the distinct impression she was glaring at him.
“Assuming he lasts at all,” she answered.
“He fuckin’ better. If we came out to the shit-ass middle of nowhere for another dud, I’m gonna be pissed.”
“He survived the initial strike without any burns, but that only confirms what we already knew.”
“I’ll give him three minutes. You?”
“Thirty seconds.”
Adam barked out a laugh. “Hear that, Demon? Lute thinks you won’t even make it a full minute.”
Alastor did his best to remain calm, even as his mind raced. “What do you want? Information?” he asked, voice steadier than he’d dared hope.
Was there anything he could offer that might convince them to spare him? The only real loyalty he held was to his mother. He’d never wanted to be drafted into this war. Especially after what happened to his father.
For fuck’s sake, all he’d wanted was to be a voice on the radio. Alastor had thought that was a simple enough dream. He’d been classified as an F-Rank Guide during the mandatory testing of his youth, which meant he may as well have been a Null.
Then, just when he was about to graduate and start work at the local broadcasting station, they developed a more accurate test. One that reclassified him as C-Rank. He was given his diploma, told to get his affairs in order, and to be on the first train the following morning.
He’d never forget the devastation on his mother’s face when he handed her his orders. Her sharp intake of breath. The way she hadn’t collapsed, instead slowly sinking into him until he supported most of her weight.
Or her quiet sobs throughout the night, which began only once she thought he’d fallen asleep…
“What do you want to know?” Alastor tried.
“Tch, not an ounce of loyalty. Typical Demon.” Lute sneered as she sheathed her sword and drew nearer.
Alastor had lost his own service weapon when he was thrown by their initial assault. Not that it would’ve done him much good. He might’ve gotten a shot or two off at Lute, but bullets were useless against someone like Adam.
“Oh, we didn’t come here for information,” Adam said, grinning as he tightened his grip on his jaw.
Alastor’s heart thundered in his chest as his ears pressed flat to his head. “Wait!”
His protest fell on deaf ears.
Alastor steeled himself for the bastard to burn away his flesh with his divine power. Instead, he felt the telltale tingle of his own power being tapped.
Angels and Demons shouldn’t be compatible, yet his power surged toward that point of skin-to-skin contact so abruptly that he almost blacked out.
There was supposed to be a natural ebb and flow to Guiding, depending on the level of support needed, individual rankings, compatibility, and a Guide’s overall health and reserves. He’d always viewed it like turning on a faucet and adjusting the flow and temperature.
This was more like a ruptured fire hydrant. Forced Guidance. An Esper taking, instead of a Guide giving.
His military training alone kept him from going into shock or torpor. Countless hours spent learning to defend himself from berserk Espers, his skin crawling as unfamiliar hands held him down, sometimes straying out of bounds. Like his consensual non-consent granted them the right to touch his ears, his tail, his ass…
Alastor lashed out with a hoof, muscle memory taking over when conscious thought failed. Uncoordinated and ineffective, with Adam holding him at arm’s length.
The Archangel only laughed at his pathetic attempt, the tips of his claws digging hard enough into his cheeks to bruise, if not draw blood.
It took a Herculean effort for Alastor to raise his right arm. He pawed at the fastenings lining his coat with numb, clumsy fingers. He went limp as the last fastening came undone. Gravity did the rest.
Adam swore as Alastor slipped from his grasp. The tips of his claws raked across his skin as he tried and failed to catch him. Pain bloomed with the blood, clearing Alastor’s mind of the fog that settled over it.
He slammed into the ground with a sickening snap that tore a cry from his throat. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the luxury to stop and assess the damage.
That inexplicable sixth sense kicked back in, and Alastor barely rolled out of the way before Adam landed on top of him. He staggered to his feet, stomach roiling when the movement jostled his right arm.
Definitely broken.
“Wow, was that worth the whole extra minute you’re going to be alive?” Lute jeered.
“Though I gotta admit, I’m impressed you’re even conscious right now,” Adam said as he stalked toward him.
That made two of them.
Alastor’s gaze darted between them as he took a step back. “How did you do that? Angels and Demons aren’t supposed to be compatible. Is it because you’re S-Rank?” Maybe if he played into the Archangel’s ego, he could stall a little longer.
“It’s a shame you’re not a chick, otherwise I’d show you just how compatible we are. They don’t call me the dickmaster for nothin’.”
Alastor’s ears tilted back, and he failed to suppress a grimace. Really? This was Heaven’s most powerful warrior?
“Would you like me to restrain him for you, sir?” Lute prompted as she drifted closer.
“Nah, I got it,” he replied, hands glowing gold.
Alastor tried to take comfort in the fact he’d at least die standing. He wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction of cowering or begging in his final moments.
He uselessly threw up his good arm to shield himself just as something grabbed him by the ankle, yanking hard. A startled bleat escaped as he lost his footing.
Adam didn’t send another blast of divine power at him though. Rather, thinner bands of energy hit the wall above him before fizzling out.
Gritting his teeth, Alastor forced himself into a sitting position, grabbing a baseball-sized chunk of rubble. Before he could lob it at the Archangel, there was another flash of blinding light followed by an earth shaking impact.
What the fuck was that?!
“Motherfucker!” Adam snarled. The clang of metal drowned out anything else he said.
Alastor thought he was hallucinating when he spotted blond hair and six wings. Then he sensed the sheer power radiating from the newcomer. He’d hoped for a miracle, but Lucifer Morningstar was the absolute last reinforcement he’d expected.
Much like Adam, he’d never met the man in person before, but he’d seen photographs. Despite his diminutive size, Lucifer was larger than life as he wielded his sword with far more finesse than the other could ever hope. The guitar that served as the focus for Adam’s power wasn’t meant for close combat, leaving him wrongfooted as he struggled to parry Lucifer’s attacks, let alone get in any of his own.
Lucifer’s sword was far more practical than his stupid conduit. Adam was all hat and no cattle, as his mother said, relying on brute strength and the misguided belief that his opponents would never get within arm’s reach.
The rumors Lucifer had adopted more demonic traits since his fall seemed to be true, given the horns sprouting from his forehead and the blood-red patches of feathers along his six wings. Or perhaps both were due to an excess of Sin in his system?
He’d never been able to sense Sin from a distance before. Only higher-ranking Guides developed the ability. He’d never heard of them being able to sense Angels though. Alastor had to be imagining it. Or maybe the adrenaline pumping through his veins had enhanced his other senses, making him think he was picking up impossible energy signatures.
Flames licked the corners of Lucifer’s mouth, his eyes glowing bright red as he rained blow after blow down on Adam. One particularly brutal swing sent him hurtling through the air and into the side of a building.
“Sir!” Lute shrieked, darting toward him.
Lucifer’s wings vanished as his boots touched the ground, his sword gripped tightly in his hand. He stood there, body unnaturally still. Alarm bells sounded in Alastor’s head as the man slowly turned and started toward him. He moved as if every step he took required the utmost concentration.
Where the fuck was Morningstar’s Guide? How long had it been since he was cleansed? And, most importantly, how close was he to going berserk? Lucifer had to be nearing his limit.
Alastor staggered to his feet, head swimming. Running was pointless. Besides, every instinct demanded that he not turn his back on the predator before him. Ironically, as intimidating as Adam was, he didn’t hold a candle to Lucifer’s flame.
“Commander Morningstar,” he greeted as he drew nearer, doing his best to remain calm and professional. He didn’t want to become the man’s next target.
Lucifer didn’t answer as he maintained that slow, purposeful stride.
Alastor’s grip tightened around the chunk of rubble when he stopped just an arm’s length away. “Commander Morningstar,” he repeated. “Where is your Guide?”
“In front of me. I need Guidance,” he said, voice tight. “And you need to provide it.”
Fuck.
Alastor’s gaze darted around the rubble and the few crumpled bodies littered amongst it. As far as he knew, it was just the two of them right here, right now. He hadn’t seen any of the other exorcists once Adam zeroed in on him either.
So he could either risk Lucifer draining him by accident, or allow Adam to do it on purpose…
What choice did he have?
“I’m just a C-Rank,” he said as he stepped forward, closing the distance between them. “…if you could avoid killing me, I’d greatly appreciate it, sir.”
The Fallen Angel offered him no reassurance as he wrapped his arms around him, untucking Alastor’s shirt and splaying his hands directly across his back. He pressed his cheek to Alastor’s bare arm, eyes sliding closed.
His touch didn’t repulse him the way Adam’s or any previous Esper’s had. Then again, it always helped when Alastor expected it and braced himself for the contact.
He tentatively wrapped his good arm around Lucifer in return, cupping the back of his head and initiating the connection between them. He expected the Esper to force it wider, like Adam. To greedily take from him with no concern for his welfare. Despite being so close to the edge, Lucifer ceded control.
Alastor gradually relaxed as he focused on siphoning the Sin from the other man and feeding him his own power in return. His thoughts grew hazy, his skin starting to tingle.
A strange sense of euphoria followed, like liquid starlight coursing through his veins. He swayed where he stood, knees threatening to buckle.
Lucifer tightened his hold on him to prevent him from falling, easing him into a seated position. His horns receded as he cupped Alastor’s cheek. Green eyes peered into his own. “How’re you feeling?”
Alastor leaned into his touch with a soft, contented sigh. “Think m’dying.”
The other man blinked. “Oh. Uh... You’re definitely not dying, if that helps? But you are in deep. Fuck, I don’t know if I’ve ever felt that level of compatibility before…“
He gave a noncommittal hum that had Lucifer’s brow furrowing in what looked like…concern? It was hard to focus. His eyelids were so heavy...
“How about you stay here while I handle Adam, and then I’ll take care of you?”
That sounded easy enough. Alastor didn’t know if he could stand, let alone walk. “Yessir.”
Lucifer stood just as a portal opened in the sky overhead. They both stared up at it, and a soft whine escaped Alastor, his ears pinning back. Despite his sluggish thoughts and how wonderfully floaty he felt, he knew the portal meant danger.
Alastor tried to force himself upright, pain lancing through his arm and drawing a distressed bleat from him. Lucifer knelt beside him, resting a hand on his chest and easing him onto his back.
“It’s all right,” he murmured. “More aren’t coming through.”
How could he know that for certain?
But as the two of them watched, Lute supported Adam as they both flew toward the portal. Lucifer had done a number on him. He’d lost half his mask, and golden blood dripped to the ground in their wake.
The portal closed after them, an eerie silence falling over the battlefield. Like he and the Fallen Angel were the last two people in the world.
“Shit, I fucked him up, huh?” Lucifer murmured. “Didn’t realize how close to the edge I was. Used way more power than I should’ve trying to get here as fast as possible.”
He paused, wincing as he surveyed the destruction surrounding them. “Still got here too late to do much…”
“…should be lookin’ for survivors,” Alastor realized.
Lucifer shook his head. “The only thing you need to do is lay down until the medics arrive.”
“S’just my arm,” he protested.
“Yeah, your arm and me sucking most of your power out of you.”
Alastor wrinkled his nose. “And Adam.”
Lucifer blinked, his full attention returning to him. “What did you just say?”
“I dunno how he did it. Shouldn’t work.”
“He made you Guide him?”
“Can I sit up?” Lying down was much easier, but it made it harder for him to stay awake.
Lucifer eased him upright, propping him against an abandoned car when he struggled to remain that way. Alastor closed his eyes, trying to focus when the world threatened to spin again.
As he did so, his brow furrowed. He…felt something. Or he thought he did. Like how he’d sensed Lucifer and Adam before. That strange sixth sense, albeit far fainter.
“What is it? Are you okay?”
The man fell silent when he held up his good hand to forestall him. The sensation grew stronger once he focused on it, breaking into little beacons that called to him. Were those…people?
Alastor pressed his back more firmly against the side of the car, using it to push himself to his feet.
“Whoa! What’d I just say about taking it easy?” Lucifer demanded.
“Need t’see somethin’. Help me walk.”
“You’re not walking anywhere like that. Whatever it is, it can wait.”
“No, it can’t!” If he was right, these people would die before the medics arrived.
Alastor lurched forward and would’ve wound up flat on his face if Lucifer hadn’t caught him. He kept him upright as Alastor scanned what remained of this corner of the city. The moment they’d gotten wind of the portal preparing to open, they’d evacuated any civilians. Which meant the crumpled, bloodied bodies he saw belonged to Guides, Espers, and Nulls.
The majority were Nulls. Portals never appeared this far out, and Nulls weren’t supposed to fight Angels. They served as regular soldiers, meant to handle evacuations, communications, support, and cleanup.
The news would blindside their families. This should’ve been one of the safer posts, not that it’d stopped his own mother from worrying. She struggled not to, given his father came home from the battlefield in an urn when Alastor was still a boy.
“Seriously, what’s so important that you need to deal with it right now?”
“Survivors,” he insisted, wishing his mind wasn’t so foggy and that the words would come more easily.
Lucifer frowned up at him before giving a heavy sigh. He gingerly rested his hand on Alastor’s broken arm, a sling materializing outward from the point of contact and immobilizing it against his torso. The resulting pain cleared some of the fog.
“Think I can sense them.”
“You’re not going to settle down until we handle this, are you?”
“No.”
“All right then. Let’s go find your survivors.”
Alastor planned to use the man as a makeshift crutch, but Lucifer took his good hand in his own and Alastor found himself floating a few inches from the ground.
“Don’t let go unless you wanna fall,” he instructed, starting off across the ruined city and tugging Alastor along behind him.
“…am I a balloon right now…?”
“You’re something,” he replied, flashing a smile over his shoulder. “For the record, I’m not against helping survivors, but I don’t have much medical training. The actual medics should be here soon. Reinforcements mobilized the moment we got wind of the portal opening here.”
“I do. Have medical training. Mama’s a nurse. Made sure I learned.”
“Yeah? And your dad?”
“Dead. Friendly fire.”
Lucifer winced. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”
“Less talking, more walking.”
He nodded, following Alastor’s somewhat disjointed directions to the first of the casualties.
They spent the remaining time locating and treating survivors. Alastor triaged those too badly injured to help, and put the rest to work aiding the others.
There were fewer deaths than he anticipated, but the number would skyrocket if the injured waited much longer. The burns inflicted by the exorcists' divine power would eat away at their flesh until cut out or healed. Not to mention the myriad of other wounds they were ill-equipped to treat.
Alastor’s mind cleared as time passed, but the exhaustion and pain threatened to pull him back down. By the time the medics arrived, Lucifer and the others had bullied him into taking a break, insisting they could handle the rest and they’d come get him if not.
He refused to be treated before anyone in greater need, despite Lucifer’s coaxing. As a result, he was one of the last evacuated, the Fallen Angel’s worried gaze following as they loaded him into the ambulance.
The two weeks of medical leave Alastor endured after the battle made him actually want to return to duty. By the time he left the infirmary and returned to light duty, he’d undergone enough bedrest that it had to border on cruel and unusual punishment.
He’d seen neither hide nor hair of Lucifer in the interim, though he’d been extensively poked and prodded by the assessors. As he’d heard nothing back from them, Alastor assumed whatever happened that day was a fluke or a one-time occurrence.
It was just as well. He had a year and a half left of his mandatory service, and then he’d be back in the bayou with his mother.
Upon reaching his room in the barracks, he was unsurprised to find the door already open. Anthony glanced up from where he lounged on Alastor’s bed, flailing and almost tumbling to the floor.
“What’re ya doin’ here, Smiles?!”
Alastor arched a brow. “Last I checked, I lived here.” He studied the room, alarmed to find his roommate had taken over the entire space in his absence.
Although…where were his own things?
“Nuh uh! Ya got relocated!”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh! Hey, Al!” an all too familiar voice piped up from behind him.
This time, the spider did fall off the bed. “Holy shit, is that Lucifer fuckin’ Morningstar?!”
“Not my middle name, but yup! I came by to pick up Al.”
“You’re here to what now?” Alastor prompted.
“We’re moving in together!” Lucifer said, beaming up at him.
“You’re what?!” Anthony demanded.
Alastor needed to get to the bottom of this, preferably without an audience.
“I’ll see you around, Anthony,” he offered, taking Lucifer by the arm and starting down the hall before they drew a further crowd.
The Fallen Angel stumbled after him with a startled squawk. Alastor didn’t stop until they were outside of the barracks and tucked against one of the building’s walls where they’d draw less attention.
“Explain,” he ordered, crossing his arms as he stared down at him.
A dedicated Guide living with their Esper was to be expected. The more in sync and comfortable they were, the better they worked together. However, Alastor had no idea how someone as low-ranking as him was being considered for such a bond, let alone with Lucifer Morningstar.
“What’s there to explain? You’re my Guide. I stopped by and told you while you were still in medical.”
“When? I don’t remember that.”
He rubbed the back of his neck as he considered. “Not too long after they got you settled in? Right after you told your superior officer you wouldn’t accept the medal they wanted to give you.”
…he what?
“Why’d you reject it, by the way? I mean, Zestial seemed to understand, but…”
Of course Zestial had. He’d served with Alastor’s father decades before.
“...I didn’t do it for them,” he said after a long moment,
“Uh, hate to break it to you, but you were pretty adamant about helping as many people as possible.”
He’d done it for his mother. Because all he could think of was how pale she’d gone when she opened the door and found the Casualty Notification Officers waiting outside. He was too young to fully grasp the situation then, but the one thing he did understand was that he’d forever lost a piece of his mother that day, too.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Lucifer gave him a quizzical look, but didn’t press. “How’re you holding up?”
Alastor shrugged. “Well enough. You?”
“About the same. You saved my ass back there, y’know?”
“I’m aware. Why did you let so much Sin accumulate in the first place?”
“D’you mind if we walk and talk?” he asked, eyes darting to a group of newer enlisted gawking at them.
Word traveled fast, apparently.
Alastor nodded, motioning for him to lead the way.
Lucifer offered him a grateful smile before starting off again. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d never found someone I was so compatible with. I’ve…changed since I arrived here, but not enough for a solid match. It takes a lot of Guiding to even partially cleanse me.”
Heads turned as they strode across the base. They were even less subtle than the enlisted. Especially the idiot sweeping a patch of grass, of all things. Alastor sincerely hoped none of them had aspirations of becoming spies.
He redirected his attention to Lucifer. He could still sense the Sin festering within him, though it was nowhere near the levels it had been when they met on the battlefield. “But you seem fine now? Or, mostly fine?”
“Yeah. Because of you.”
Alastor blinked, “Beg pardon?”
“I haven’t heeded as much Guiding as usual since then. I mean, no one’s been able to get all of it out, but this is the lowest it’s been in…fuck…a decade?”
“But I’m only a C-Rank. That doesn’t make any sense.”
He swore he saw a flicker of…something cross the other man’s face. Unease? Concern? Whatever the case, it was there and gone before Alastor got a proper read on it.
“The good news is that it doesn’t have to!” he replied with a too-wide grin.
“But it does. Especially if I’m going to be your dedicated Guide now.”
As they continued along, the surrounding buildings grew newer and nicer. They were a far cry from the utilitarian barracks and facilities Alastor was accustomed to. So this was how the other half lived.
“Well… Maybe it’s something we can figure out together?”
“Or maybe Adam did something to me when he forced me to Guide him. For all we know, it might wear off in the middle of another fight and then what? You go berserk?”
“Y’know, for someone who smiles so much, you aren’t a very positive person.”
Alastor rolled his eyes. “I prefer practicality.”
“I can tell. You’ve been here for what, a couple of years now? And you barely had anything to move from your old quarters!”
“Everything important is at home.”
“And where’s home?” Lucifer asked, stepping forward to get the door to the building that housed the higher-ranking Espers and their Guides.
“The bayou,” he said, thanking him as he stepped inside. He paused in the lobby beyond. “You aren’t stationed here.”
“I am! Well, temporarily! While we get to know each other and learn to work together.”
No wonder the others were so starstruck by him. They didn’t get big shots in their neck of the woods, though a few extra A-Ranks had joined their numbers in case the double event hadn’t been a one-off.
Alastor almost asked him about his own home, but caught himself before he poured salt into an open wound. He didn’t know why Lucifer was kicked out of Heaven, though he doubted it was a happy story.
Lucifer waved to the officer on duty as he led Alastor down one of the hallways branching off the lobby. The high-ranking guard was undoubtedly there to deter harassment or stalking of the veritable celebrities within. S and A-Ranks were rare enough that people often recognized them from newspapers and the newsreels before picture shows.
Only then did the reality of his newfound situation dawn on him. He was officially an assigned Guide. To Lucifer Morningstar. He may very well wind up on one of those newsreels.
Fuck, he needed to talk to his mother before something like that happened.
The thought of explaining how thoroughly his life had turned upside down didn’t remotely appeal. She was going to worry herself sick, and then he’d die from guilt.
Assuming the Angels didn’t get him first…
If he wound up being a good fit for Lucifer, he doubted they’d let him leave when his ten-year enlistment ended. Unfortunately, short of dying during that last attack, he didn’t know what he could’ve done to avoid this.
Upon reaching a door at the end of the hall, Lucifer unlocked it and let them both inside. Alastor’s eyes grew wide as he took it all in, his ears perking up despite himself. The unit looked more like a luxury hotel suite. It was also huge and broken into multiple rooms, rather than the single one he’d shared with Angel.
Lucifer grinned up at him. “Whaddya think? Pretty nice, huh?”
Alastor nodded as he poked his head through the other doorways. While the front door opened into a living/dining space, there was also a full bathroom, a kitchenette, an office, a training room, and…one bedroom. With a single, queen sized bed. His things were stacked in front of one of the two wardrobes. The items he didn’t recognize (really, how many rubber ducks did one man need?) must belong to Lucifer.
It shouldn’t surprise him, yet Alastor couldn’t help but stare at the bed.
“Oh! You’ve never been assigned to a single Esper before, right? This is pretty standard. Sharing a bed is supposed to help us bond faster and get us used to being in physical contact with each other. It’s also supposed to encourage regular Guiding to build up your stamina and to keep me level as your Esper.”
Well, that sounded awful! But what choice did he have? Lucifer was literally the military’s golden boy. They had a very vested interest in ensuring he kept fighting and didn’t go berserk.
Alastor didn’t even want to think what kind of havoc he could wreak. And who the fuck would stop him? He may be Fallen, but he was still an Angel with divine power at his disposal.
“Uh oh.”
He blinked, turning toward him.
“You’re upset,” Lucifer continued, shifting from foot to foot.
“I’m not upset.”
“Your ears are flat and your tail’s all bristly.”
Alastor’s next burst of annoyance was with his own damned anatomy. He forced his ears upright and did his best to temper his frustration. This wasn’t Lucifer’s fault. If he had to live and work with him for the foreseeable future, he didn’t want to make things worse for himself than they already were.
Especially since he risked being reprimanded by the higher-ups if he did. They wouldn’t take kindly to insubordination on his part. He might wind up court-martialed or worse. His mother wasn’t getting any younger, and the cost of living only rose the longer the war lasted. He couldn’t afford to make a fuss if he wanted to take care of her.
“It’s…just a lot to take in. I’m not used to sharing a bed with someone else.”
He’d be sharing far more than that, too… The greater the level of physical touch, the quicker and more thoroughly an Esper was cleansed.
But what if that initial Guiding was a fluke? What if they weren’t as compatible as everyone seemed to believe? There was only one way to find out.
Besides, the bulk of his recovery time was because he’d Guided both Adam and Lucifer. If he didn’t want to spend days or weeks recovering every time, he needed to build up his stamina like Lucifer said. He didn’t care for how much Sin he sensed in him either.
“All right, let’s get the rest taken care of,” Alastor said, gesturing to Lucifer.
The man’s eyes grew comically wide. “What? Right now? But you just got out of medical!”
“We also don’t know when the next Portal will open. It’s already been two weeks.”
Lucifer frowned, but he couldn’t argue with that. “…okay, fine. Er… How d’you wanna do this?”
“I’m not sure,” Alastor admitted as he considered him. “I suppose I should see how much you need from me to make a difference first.” And how much it would take out of him. “Would you prefer standing? Sitting?”
The Fallen Angel’s eyes darted from him to the bed and back again. Alastor’s face warmed, much to his chagrin. While he may not engage in intercourse often, he would have to be blind not to find Lucifer at least aesthetically attractive.
Their superiors would expect that of them eventually, if nothing else but as a data point. The assessors would want to know everything about their compatibility.
“Maybe we should start on the couch?” Lucifer offered when he didn’t answer.
Alastor gave a stiff nod, starting back that way. They sat next to each other once there, an awkward silence falling over them. He bit back a sigh as he offered him his hand, palm up. The sooner they got this over with, the better.
Lucifer gave him an almost shy smile as he took his hand. Alastor took a deep breath, eyes sliding closed as he focused on the point of contact.
Just like before, it was easier to open the connection than usual. Almost like they existed on the same frequency instead of Alastor having to attune himself to him first. He kept his breathing deep and even as he concentrated, trying to get a sense of the other man and his needs.
Fuck, Lucifer was like a bottomless pit compared to the Espers he’d worked with before. At this rate, it’d be faster to bail out a flatboat with a thimble.
“Can I touch more of you?” he asked as he opened his eyes.
Lucifer startled from where he’d all but gone boneless on the sofa beside him.
“…are you all right?”
“Feels good. Like home,” he murmured as he forced himself upright again.
Alastor…didn’t know how to respond to that.
“What d’you want me to do? Hug you? Kiss you?”
Hugging worked last time, granted he had a good deal of adrenaline coursing through him then. His gaze dropped to Lucifer’s lips.
“May I kiss you?”
A gold flush bloomed across the Angel’s cheeks, but he nodded.
Alastor bolstered his reserve as he cupped the other man’s face in his hands and pressed their lips together, eyes sliding closed again. He shuddered as the connection reopened between them, his mind going fuzzy at the edges like it had on the battlefield.
He deepened the kiss, tilting his head as he catalogued how minor differences like the amount of pressure and tongue impacted the flow between them.
Kissing Lucifer was…fine. He wasn’t the biggest fan of kissing, but it was tolerable with him. Lucifer didn’t shove his tongue down his throat or let his hands wander. He let Alastor set the pace, unlike most Espers.
Before long, Alastor grew lightheaded, and he leaned back, blinking. Not as debilitating as the first time, but he had work to do if he would be regularly supporting the Fallen Angel.
Annoyingly, he still sensed Sin in him. Just how much was he capable of holding onto without losing himself?
“How are you feeling?” he asked when the silence between them stretched on.
“Good. Really good,” Lucifer insisted, grinning wide.
“How does it compare to your past Guiding?”
“It’s like night and fucking day! It’s always been more like slapping on a bandage since I arrived here, but with you it’s like I’m actually being healed!”
Which…made no sense. While compatibility played a large role between Guides and Espers, he’d never heard of it playing this much of one. He was a C-Rank. Even at max compatibility, he should’ve hit his limit long before he made a dent in Lucifer’s accumulation of Sin.
The only plausible explanation was that Adam had done something to him. He felt Lucifer might know more than he was letting on.
Alastor just needed to figure out how to pry it from him…
It was easier settling into a routine with Lucifer than Alastor expected. Despite being the most powerful Esper in Hell, the man was wildly disorganized and easily distracted. Alastor didn’t know how Lucifer had functioned before he entered his life and gave it some much needed structure.
While he didn’t have any experience to fall back on in that department, Alastor believed married couples spent less time together than they did. Still, Lucifer did his best to work with him and to respect what boundaries he had, given their arrangement. He fell in line, adopting Alastor’s routine as his own.
It was also likely the only reason he hadn’t gone insane. Yet.
It made the plethora of other changes thrust upon him easier to bear. He knew being a designated Guide would be different, let alone being Lucifer’s designated Guide. Regardless, he’d underestimated just how different.
There were the new living arrangements, for one. A new uniform, befitting of his new status and position. He’d flown under the radar before, but now it was like a spotlight followed him everywhere. He was relieved of the mundane day-to-day duties of his old rank. Now he spent that time training, honing his abilities, and bonding with Lucifer.
Their progress satisfied their superiors, though none of them voiced the same bewilderment he had at their inexplicable compatibility. As it’d been several weeks now since they began working together, Alastor let the matter drop.
Until he caught his reflection while cleaning up after their early morning training session.
He froze, ears pressing flat to his head as he leaned closer to the mirror. He blinked once. Twice. When the wrongness before him didn’t change, he pried his eye open wider with his fingers.
“What the fuck,” he hissed under his breath.
Alastor spun on his heel, marching from the bathroom to where Lucifer was nodding off on the bed.
“Lucifer.”
“Mmm?” he murmured, arms tightening around the pillow in his arms. It was the only thing keeping Alastor from being startled awake in the middle of the night by Lucifer manhandling him into said arms.
The Fallen Angel had taken a few equally unexpected trips to medical before they arrived at this solution.
Alastor couldn’t help his own half-awake reactions any more than Lucifer.
“Lucifer! Wake up!”
He blinked up at him before a golden flush dusted his cheeks. “Whoa! Uh… I mean, I’m definitely interested, but maybe we should discuss that kind of thing with our clothes on first?!”
He stared at him in utter confusion, briefly forgetting what he’d roused him for. “What?”
Lucifer turned his head away, flailing at him with one arm. Alastor glanced down, noting the towel slung low around his hips.
“What?” he repeated. He’d (unfortunately) grown accustomed to casual nudity after years in the enlisted barracks and their communal showers.
If he never had to see a random dick again, this whole arrangement with Lucifer might actually be worth it…
“You’re.. You’re indecent!”
“You do realize they expect us to have intercourse at some point?” The prospect didn’t thrill him, but he would muscle through. If he was lucky, it might be a one time occurrence.
Lucifer stiffened and Alastor swore his eyes flashed red. He resisted the urge to roll his own. The Fallen Angel had the gall to proposition him, yet was annoyed at him for stating the obvious?
Fuck. Eyes!
“Will you please focus?” Alastor snapped. “I’m trying to decide whether or not I need to go to medical.”
That got his full attention, concern creasing his brow as he turned back to him. “What? Why? Do you feel…” He trailed off, gaping now.
Ah, so he’d finally noticed!
“Well, I suppose that’s answer enough,” he said, starting back toward the ensuite.
He stumbled when Lucifer caught him by the arm and pulled him closer. Despite his diminutive size, there was no doubting the man’s strength. Alastor’s breath hitched as he caught himself on the edge of the bed, his face mere inches from his.
Lucifer didn’t release his arm, leaving Alastor hunched over him, one knee planted between Lucifer’s legs and his free hand flat against the mattress.
Alastor’s mouth went dry at the intensity burning in his gaze as he studied him. He cupped his cheek, thumb brushing back and forth just beneath his eye.
This wasn’t the awkward, bumbling Lucifer anymore. This was the man from the battlefield. Alastor’d thought that version of him was exaggerated by the fear and adrenaline coursing through him then. There was no fear or adrenaline now. Just Commander Morningstar.
“You don’t need to go to medical,” Lucifer said; still not releasing him.
“Yes, I do. There’s clearly something wrong with my eyes. Last I checked they were red, not gold.”
The hand on his face drifted lower until it lightly wrapped around his throat. Alastor’s face warmed and when he swallowed, his throat bobbed against Lucifer’s palm. His power thrummed to life at the physical contact, his eyelids drooping as the edges of his mind went fuzzy.
Lucifer’s thumb brushed back and forth across his pulse point before he tightened and then loosened his grip. A soft sound escaped Alastor’s throat, unbidden, and the Esper’s eyes flashed red again.
His sense returned with a spike of annoyance, and he opened his mouth to demand what Lucifer’s problem was. The words died on his tongue when his back hit the mattress and Lucifer loomed over him, horns erupting from his forehead.
He pressed his knee between Alastor’s legs, pinning his wrists on either side of his head. He jolted when it nudged against his cock, only then realizing how hard he was.
Alastor needed to go to medical. Even if his eyes were fine (they weren’t), he was clearly losing his mind.
“They show everyone that you’re mine,” Lucifer growled.
He most certainly was not! And he’d inform the Esper of that…in a moment.
Alastor hissed when Lucifer rubbed his knee more purposefully against him, trying to lift his hips to grind against him in return. A flush erupted across his skin when Lucifer’s tail dipped between them, flicking his towel open and leaving him bare beneath him.
“That’s not the only way I plan on claiming you,” he growled as he dipped his head, pressing his fangs against the side of his neck, scraping them across his jugular.
Alastor sank his own fangs into his bottom lip, almost hard enough to draw blood.
…maybe in a few moments. It’d be rude to interrupt him now, wouldn’t it?
“Keep them there,” Lucifer ordered as he released his wrists. He gave him a sharp look, as if daring him to disobey.
He couldn’t unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth long enough to tell him off. It wasn’t his first time having sex, or his first time with an Esper. The assessors had wanted to verify he was, in fact, a C-Rank.
That had been…a miserable experience. Of course they’d paired him with Vincent, the one Esper he’d wanted to avoid. Thankfully the sex didn’t have to be good for a Guide to do their work. But while he couldn’t say for certain, Alastor thought it might help.
And…oh… He was about to fuck Lucifer Morningstar, wasn’t he?
A slick finger brushed across his entrance, making him gasp. His eyes snapped open, though he didn’t recall closing them.
…or maybe he was about to be fucked by Lucifer Morningstar.
Alastor braced himself for the discomfort sure to follow, given his handful of past experiences. He wasn’t prepared for Lucifer to wrap his lips around his cock instead. His fists clenched on either side of his head as he reflexively bucked his hips, only to whine when Lucifer pressed them back to the mattress.
He was only vaguely aware of the fingers invading him, due to the distraction of Lucifer’s talented mouth. Some distant part of himself was proud he’d maintained their connection thus far. If he managed it here, the battlefield should be a walk in the park.
The Fallen Angel did something with his forked tongue and his fingers that ripped a strangled cry from Alastor’s throat. He’d never approached his peak this quickly, most of the time he never even climaxed, but just before he plunged over the edge, Lucifer withdrew.
Alastor snaked his legs around his waist before he got far, eyes narrowing into slits. “You are not leaving until I’m satisfied,” he growled in warning.
The indulgent yet possessive look he received in return had his heart stuttering in his chest.
“I’m happy to use my mouth and fingers, dearheart, but I assumed you wanted my cock instead.”
Alastor’s face burned. Who the fuck was he, and where had the real Alastor gone? He wasn’t some pathetic, needy, demanding—
“None of that,” Lucifer stated, pinching the inside of his thigh and jolting him from his spiraling thoughts.
This had to be the result of his Guiding. He’d never been more aware of every nerve ending he possessed. His entire body tuned into Lucifer’s frequency and the longer they remained touching, the fuzzier his mind became and the better it all felt.
Lucifer lifted his hips, sticking a pillow beneath them, before resettling between his thighs, the head of his cock nudging Alastor’s entrance.
His earlier trepidation trickled back in. He never enjoyed this part. Perhaps if he got himself off while Lucifer used him, it wouldn’t be so unpleasant?
He reached between them only for Lucifer to slap his hand away.
“I gave you an order, Guide,” he growled.
“Who says I’m yours to command?” he shot back, nerves getting the better of him.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“I believe I was very clear about that.”
Lucifer smirked. “Then stop whining and let me make you see stars.”
He opened his mouth to snap back at him only to moan as Lucifer pressed inside of him. The slight discomfort was easy to ignore with his hand wrapped around Alastor’s cock.
Alastor braced himself for the frenzied thrusts to follow as Lucifer used his body to chase his pleasure. Instead, the Esper maintained a slow pace that gradually increased, his hand moving in time with the rock of his hips. And…
Oh.
He had no idea receiving could be so pleasurable. His legs wrapped themselves around Lucifer again of their own accord, pulling him closer and shifting the angle of his advance. His next thrust brushed something inside of Alastor that left him whimpering.
Him!
Lucifer’s expression grew predatory as he zeroed in on that spot, striking it with each subsequent roll of his hips.
Alastor tensed for an entirely different reason, despite Lucifer’s hand leaving his cock. He no longer knew where he ended and the Fallen Angel began. Fuck, he didn’t know if they were even separate people anymore. He didn’t care either, so long as Lucifer didn’t stop.
The closer he grew to his release, the more incoherent he became until all he could do was babble in between the lewd noises that punched out of him with each thrust.
Lucifer must be close too, given how quickly he moved now. His wings flared out behind him, forcing his length deeper than Alastor had thought possible. He saw stars then, before his vision whited out.
It was like an out-of-body experience, his very essence melding with Lucifer’s as wave after wave of pleasure swept through him.
His eyes were damp when he came back to himself. Lucifer had sprawled atop him, his own legs still wrapped around his waist. Alastor felt as if he were floating, his skin tingling all over and his limbs heavy.
He’d never been so exhausted or sated in his life. Perhaps it was because of how well they paired together, but he’d never realized sex could feel so…good.
Lucifer lifted his head, offering him a smug grin, only to pause, his jaw going slack.
“…what?” Alastor hazarded once he remembered how to speak. He winced at how wrecked his voice was.
“…don’t be mad—“
“I don’t recommend starting like that, Lucifer. Spit it out.”
“…your antlers fell off.”
“What?!”
Shedding his antlers was an annual winter occurrence. The fact Alastor shed them a second time only a few months later, however, was not. It was bad enough that people already stared because of his inexplicable change in eye color. Then he had to deal with whispers and speculation about the loss of his antlers out of season too.
Worse, once he shed the velvet on the new ones, he found another unexpected change to his anatomy.
His antlers came back gold, like his eyes.
When Lucifer returned to their quarters later and flicked on the light, he yelped, wings flaring as he staggered back in alarm. Alastor hadn’t moved since he sank into the sofa, frowning hard at the opposite wall. He’d wrapped himself in the comforter from the bed, pulling it up and over his head for good measure.
“Fuck, Al!” Lucifer wheezed, hand clutching his uniform just over his heart. “Why are you sitting in the dark?! Is everything okay? Is the velvet still bothering you?”
They dismissed him early when he lost the battle against rubbing his itchy antlers against a tree in the outdoor training area.
Alastor slowly lowered the blanket from his head. Lucifer sucked in a sharp breath, though he looked more anxious than shocked.
“Holy shit!”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re going to tell me what the fuck is happening. And don’t you dare act like you don’t know.”
“…I mean, I don’t know for certain?” he said, taking a small step back.
Alastor’s eyes narrowed into slits.
“…now’s probably a bad time to tell you that your hair is starting to change color too, huh?”
Lucifer suddenly stumbled inside as if pushed, the door to their quarters slamming shut behind him.
They both started when a dark, amorphous blob skated across the room to where Alastor sat. Oddly, he didn’t fear it.
“…there’s also that,” Lucifer added, gesturing to it. He sighed as he sank into the chair opposite him. Out of biting or goring range.
Alastor crossed his arms and lifted his chin to glare down his nose at him.
“I just wanna start by saying this is just a theory,” Lucifer began.
“I don’t care. Tell me.”
He squirmed in his seat, looking anywhere but at Alastor. “Y’know that whole story about the origin of Demons and Angels?”
“What? The creation myth of the ‘children of light and darkness’ thing?”
Lucifer shook his head. “The other one.”
Alastor snorted. “About Demons being cast out from Heaven? What do children’s stories have to do with anything?”
“You’ve wondered how Adam forced you to Guide him, haven’t you?”
His brows winged up. “I’m not an Angel, Lucifer.”
“Not fully, no.”
Adam’s words floated to the forefront of his mind. He shoved them away. “Then wouldn’t everyone be compatible with them?”
“Not necessarily.”
“Lucifer.”
Lucifer held his hands up. “We originated from the same place,” he rushed out. “Demons used to be Angels!”
Alastor stared.
“…I kinda got cast out too because I didn’t like how they did things.”
“In your so-called paradise?”
He grimaced. “Most of the Angels kicked out were Espers, so there was a shortage of them and a surplus of Guides. This was all a couple of generations back. Long before my time.”
“And?”
“We kinda overcorrected…? They put a whole lot of effort into making more Espers.”
“Is any of this relevant?”
“I’m getting there!” he retorted. “By the time I got kicked out, we had the opposite problem. Too many Espers, not enough Guides.”
Alastor’s stomach churned at the implication.
“I wondered when I heard about Guides going missing after some of the bigger fights. The higher ups assumed they were vaporized by divine power or something, but…” Lucifer shifted in his seat, gaze dropping to the floor.
“Did Adam target me, specifically?”
The jerky shrug he got in return wasn’t comforting. “I dunno. Probably? Well, you and a few other Guides?”
“But I’m a C-Rank.”
“Are you though?” Lucifer asked, tilting his head. “Maybe for Demon compatibility, but we’re not talking about Demon compatibility right now.”
“So, what, if he knew I’m more compatible with Angels, he would’ve kidnapped me?”
Of course with his recent transformation, he may as well be walking around with a sign over his head advertising his compatibility… Fuck.
“That’s my best guess. It’d explain why they started this whole war in the first place too. I mean, they might genuinely be trying to take over Hell, but they need Guides.”
“Is that what you didn’t approve of?”
Lucifer got a far off look in his eye as he shrank in on himself. “…my twin brother is a Guide. My mom too. They took Michael away when he got his designation. By the time I saw him again, I… I barely recognized him.”
Alastor forced himself to hold his tongue, silently urging him to continue instead.
“Mikey was…” He bit his lip. “People assumed he’d be an Esper. Growing up, he always told mom he’d protect her. He realized something was wrong long before I did. He was good at reading between the lines and understanding the things people didn’t say.”
Lucifer used his shirt sleeve to soak up the tears threatening to roll down his cheeks. “He was pregnant when he came back. Well, physically… Er… His birth name was Michaela…?”
“I understand,” Alastor insisted.
Lucifer brows lifted. “You do?”
“I’ve met people like that before.”
The ghost of a smile came to his face. “Yeah… Well, they didn’t let him be Michael anymore after. We still called him that at home, when dad wasn’t around, but…they took everything from him, Al. I don’t know if the real Mikey’s even in there anymore…”
Alastor leaned forward to rest a hand on his. “I don’t believe you can completely snuff out a person’s inner spark. I’ve seen my mother work miracles for people others abandoned and left to rot.”
He considered her as his conscience of sorts, upon realizing his own had never fully developed. Alastor didn’t innately know right and wrong the way others seemed to. When in doubt, he asked himself what his mother would do. He didn’t care what anyone else thought of him, but he refused to disappoint her.
Lucifer’s lips trembled, a stray tear streaking down his cheek.
His mother would like him, Alastor realized as he brushed it away with his thumb.
Fuck.
Alastor had never been so happy to relocate in his life. The stares and whispers had become constant. While his appearance was still jarring, at least the people at Fort Goetia didn’t have a before and after to compare him to.
He and Lucifer were also finally cleared for fieldwork, and not a moment too soon. Heaven had returned with a vengeance after over a month of radio silence.
They worked well together. With Alastor’s support, Lucifer could fight without holding back for fear of going berserk. Meanwhile, Alastor’s shadow provided an extra layer of protection on the rare occasion he supported him on the actual battlefield. He primarily used it to cloak himself, though he could also physically manifest it in short bursts.
While the assessors had yet to develop a more comprehensive compatibility test, his shadow was a strong indicator of his level of angelic compatibility. Only S and A-Rank Guides developed such abilities.
Yet despite all his training and prior fieldwork, Alastor spent the majority of each battle hidden on the sidelines with several Esper bodyguards. While he appreciated their protection, he wished they’d fight alongside Lucifer instead. Perhaps then he could fully cleanse the Sin from him, rather than rationing his energy to heal him too.
They’d both crashed after the battle earlier that day, waking in a sweaty and grimy mess of tangled limbs. Alastor, unable to stand the sensation of matted fur an instant longer, ordered Lucifer to join him in the shower and then for a soak in the enormous tub in their new quarters.
The Fallen Angel tried to protest, worried about how much energy he’d already expended healing him after the fight. When words weren’t enough to convince him, Alastor bodily steered him into the bathroom, forcing him to look in the mirror. Lucifer changed his tune the moment he caught sight of his glowing red eyes and how his horns had begun to poke out from his forehead.
The soak did them both a world of good. While Alastor didn’t fight alongside Lucifer, his training was just as physically demanding. The bulk of it centered on building his stamina, given he had an egregious amount of catching up to do to properly Guide Lucifer.
He supplemented his training and tried to ease the burden of it on himself by staying in contact with him most of their off hours too. Alastor still wasn’t a fan of physical touch from most people, but he’d reached a point with Lucifer where he felt more like an extension of himself than another person.
Casual touching could be just as effective for Guidance when done often. Things like sitting together on the sofa, Lucifer leaning into his side, or Alastor’s legs in his lap, or even just resting his hand atop Lucifer’s or vice versa had become a habit he felt more odd not doing nowadays.
There were still moments where they were fully skin to skin. Like this, and also intimately. Admittedly, the intimate moments were far more enjoyable when his antlers didn’t fall off after. Hells, if they could stay awake long enough, that kind of Guidance wouldn’t hurt with how much Sin Lucifer had built up…
The heat seeped into Alastor’s sore muscles, easing his aches and pains. Lucifer sat in front of him, his back to Alastor’s chest, and Alastor’s back against the side of the tub.
He didn’t know how long they lingered there, given Lucifer was using his powers to keep the water nice and toasty. Not that he was complaining. This was the best he’d felt in ages.
Alastor was vaguely aware of the sound of water running down the drain and a moment of weightlessness. He blinked, only to be greeted with the pale expanse of Lucifer’s chest. Or maybe it was the tub? It was hard to tell.
“I’m not that pale,” Lucifer grumbled, voice buzzing where Alastor’s cheek pressed up against him.
Oops. Had he said that out loud?
“You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re exhausted. Otherwise I would’ve left you in the tub.”
His ears pinned back as he gave an indignant wriggle in answer.
Lucifer chuckled and he would’ve wriggled harder, but then cool sheets met his cheek instead. “M’not done Guidin’ you,” he mumbled into the pillow.
“I noticed. You were still Guiding me while you were snoring in my ear earlier. I didn’t even realize that was possible.”
“I don’t snore.”
“My mistake. When you were sawing logs directly beside my ear.”
“Gonna impale you with my antlers…”
“That’d be more intimidating if you could pick your head up right now.”
Was it not up?
“You said that out loud too, and nope,” Lucifer said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
“Don’t…patronize me…”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” This time as he spoke, his voice grew further away.
“Lu!”
“Yeah?”
“You’re not leavin’ ‘til I’m satisfied.”
The voice drew closer. “I’m not having sex with you when you’re like this, Al.”
He gave a frustrated grunt as he waved one hand in the air (or at least he thought he was). “Your Sin, idiot.”
“How could I resist such a flattering proposal?”
The bed dipped behind him, Lucifer’s arm settling around his middle as he drew him closer. His other hand, meanwhile, came up and rubbed behind one of Alastor’s ears.
Oh fuck. That… That might be better than sex.
“Get some sleep, Guide. That’s an order from your Esper.”
Alastor wanted to protest, to insist he couldn’t give him much Guidance through contact with his ear, but then the bastard scratched at its base and his tenuous grip on consciousness snapped and he sank into a deep, dreamless sleep.
It was like the exorcists’ sole goal now was to kill the Fallen Angel.
Double events became the rule after the first, rather than the exception. A portal appeared in a densely populated area, only for another to appear elsewhere, just far enough away that it was difficult to mobilize a separate fighting force. More often than not, Lucifer faced those exorcists on his own, doing as much damage as possible until reinforcements arrived. Then, as soon as they did, the exorcists retreated.
Even with Alastor’s help, he was being run ragged. Both of them were. They spent their time between battles recovering as much as possible before the next pair of portals opened. Command did their best to predict where the second would open, but their equipment had its limitations. The readings from the first made it impossible to locate the second until it was already formed.
The worst part about it all was that Lucifer was the only high-ranking Esper they had capable of long-distance flight. He had literal wings, which meant he didn’t have to rely on his power to travel. Wings were rare among Demons.
Alastor knew Lucifer would eventually hit his limit. None of the others wanted to believe their most powerful Esper was anything short of invincible. He’d always been a practical person though, and he didn’t intend to stop now. Refusing to account for such things had a way of coming back to haunt a person.
That was why, exhausted as he was, he kept his eyes trained on his partner through his binoculars. Fuck protocol. If Lucifer needed him, Alastor would go to him. The Esper was his now, and he took care of his things. That was also why he saw the trap about to spring.
Lucifer was up against a handful of exorcists doing their best to keep his attention on them. They weren’t getting any major hits in, but he was expending far too much focus and energy just fending them off.
Adam and Lute were part of the assault via the portal at the heart of Pentagram City. No one saw them retreat to the outskirts of the enormous city, yet there they were. Lute stood behind Adam, both on the ground, her arms wrapped around him from behind. Meanwhile, his guitar formed in his hand and thrummed with power. Alastor might’ve missed them if he hadn’t felt it calling out to him.
He dropped the binoculars, the strap around his neck catching them, and took off at a dead sprint.
His Esper guards shouted after him, trying to catch hold of him. Alastor ignored them, knowing their orders solely pertained to him. They’d refused to intervene in the past when it came to Lucifer’s safety, too confident in his power just as the higher-ups were.
A vine wrapped around his upper arm, jerking him to a halt. He yanked at it, trying to free himself. Panic flared in his chest when it only tightened further. His head snapped to Adam and Lute just as Lute stepped away from him.
One moment he stood there, trapped, and the next moment, reality…shifted around him. It was like someone blotted out the sun, leaving him shrouded in darkness. An odd sort of weightlessness accompanied the change and suddenly the sun returned along with his center of gravity.
Alastor stumbled, blinking owlishly. Adam loomed ahead of him, his back to him. Somehow he’d scaled the length of the battlefield in seconds.
The Archangel swung his guitar forward and Alastor didn’t think. He lunged.
The impact wasn’t enough to knock him off his feet, but Adam’s strike went wide as he shifted to catch his balance. The divine energy he unleashed vaporized an entire city block, leaving an empty, smoking scar in its wake.
Alastor didn’t get a chance to see how Lucifer and the others reacted. Adam whirled on him, eyes going wide.
“You!” he snarled, lifting his guitar.
His next swing only missed because Alastor tripped, landing hard on his tail.
Adam raised the weapon over his head, murder burning in his eyes.
“Sir!” Lute shouted, appearing beside him. “There are multiple high ranking Espers closing in fast!”
“Fuck! Are you fucking shitting me right now, Lute?!”
She shook her head, pointing toward the guards Alastor had left in the dust.
Adam swore, chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. Even with the Sin neutralized by Lute, he’d still expended an enormous amount of power.
Alastor willed whatever got him there so quickly to help him flee, but the nascent power within him didn’t answer. He tried to scramble to his feet instead. His head spun and black dots appeared in the corners of his vision as he lost his footing again.
“Well, at least we’re not going back empty handed!” Adam said, grabbing him by the front of his uniform and hauling him upright.
The world tilted on its axis and Alastor’s stomach threatened to rebel. Panic crawled up his throat as he feebly tried to push the other man away.
Adam’s arm wrapped tightly around his waist, yanking him hard enough against his chest to knock the wind out of him. He doubled over, retching, as Adam shot up into the air with a powerful flap of his wings.
The moment he had his wits about him, he thrashed in his hold. If Adam took him through the portal, his chances of escape were slim to none. All they had to do was continually siphon from him, keeping him too weak to fight back.
His thoughts flashed to Lucifer’s brother. If they treated their own like that, how would they treat someone like him?
Adam’s claws tore through his shirt, sinking into the flesh beneath. Alastor redoubled his efforts, almost making the bastard drop him before the connection snapped in place between them.
He went limp in his hold, struggling to keep his eyes open as Adam guzzled down his power. The buildings below rapidly shrank as they flew ever higher. Alastor would’ve likely passed out, were it not for all his training.
Had he even saved Lucifer? Would the other exorcists take him down? Or would he accrue an excess of Sin, not realizing Alastor was gone until it was too late?
Would he go berserk? How much damage could he do?
At least his mother was on the other side of the country, out of the line of fire. For now.
She’d been so excited to properly meet Lucifer. That morning they’d both been on the phone with her, discussing her upcoming visit for his father’s remembrance day. Zestial had arranged it behind his back, vowing he’d personally see to her safety, and that it would serve as a much-needed morale boost for Guide and Esper both.
Thank fuck it was still a few weeks away.
Adam’s claws sank deeper, though he didn’t know if it was out of spite or because he was losing his grip on him. Regardless, the pain gave Alastor something to anchor himself to, and he clung to it with all his might. In a few more beats of Adam’s wings, they would be through the portal.
Alastor gathered all his remaining strength, giving up on trying to staunch the bleed of his power. Instead he channeled what little he had left, willing it to lash out at the man. Maybe if he created enough of a surge, it’d startle him into dropping him…
There was a sudden explosion of feathers around them, accompanied by a guttural scream.
And then…
And then, Alastor was…falling.
Wind rushed around him, so loud he was amazed he heard anything else over it.
“Lute! Lute! Get your fucking ass over here now!” Adam, but was he imagining the panic in his voice?
He sounded far closer than Alastor expected. Was he falling alongside him?
“Al!”
Lucifer? Or was he imagining that too? He hoped he wasn’t, because Lucifer needed to know he wouldn’t be able to Guide him anymore. There was no way he’d survive a fall from this height. Still, better to die than become a prisoner in Heaven…
Screams filled the air, voices and words tumbling together until all they were nothing more than noise.
Despite knowing he could measure his remaining life in seconds, Alastor dug his own claws into the wound Adam left in his side, the shock of pain making him gasp and his eyes snap open. He needed to know if it had all been worth it. If Lucifer was still alive.
What he didn’t expect was to see the Fallen Angel directly above him, hand extended and eyes wild. His mouth was wide open, like he was screaming. With his eyes on Lucifer’s lips, he finally understood him.
“Give me your hand!”
He may as well have demanded Alastor grow his own set of wings, with how much of a struggle it was to stay awake, not to mention keep his eyes open.
“Al! Please!”
This close, Alastor saw how his tears fell up instead of down.
So close, yet so far away.
He sank his claws deeper, swearing he hit bone, and gagged from the pain even as he reached out with his other hand, trying to bridge the shrinking chasm between them.
Lucifer’s hand wrapped around his own, the fierceness of his grip grinding his bones together. The moment they made contact, the Esper’s power surged through him, banishing the pull of gravity. Lucifer clutched him tightly to his chest, swooping up just as the tip of Alastor’s hoof grazed the pavement.
A sickening thud followed, and Adam’s panicked screams ended along with it. Lute touched down beside his crumpled remains, unleashing a polyphonic howl so loud it made Alastor’s teeth ache. She fell to her knees, still shrieking as she took what was left of his head in her hands, pouring her power into it as she sobbed.
Lucifer flapped to put some distance between them as the other exorcists surged toward her, Alastor’s guard quick on their heels. His ears rang with her cries until her fellow soldiers wrenched her away from their lifeless commander, hauling her into the air.
“You’ll pay for this!” she snarled as they retreated toward the portal. “Blood demands blood! I won’t rest until the filth in your veins paints every inch of this disgusting cesspool!”
The silence after the portal closed behind them was deafening.
Alastor’s ears would’ve pinned back if he’d had the energy for it. As it was, he had no idea what they were doing. Darkness seeped into the corners of his vision, and no amount of pressure on his wound was making it recede again.
“Is he…?” he started.
“Oh, yeah, he is super fucking dead. Hoo boy, that is a lot of blood! You never realize how much of the stuff you have until it’s just kinda everywhere, huh?” Lucifer babbled. “Or how many bones you have… You took his wing clean off with your shadow. I didn’t know you could do that.”
To be fair, Alastor hadn’t either. Whether it was because of Lucifer’s angelic influence or a manifestation of his own power remained to be seen.
What little color lingered in his face faded, and he spun around before landing a good distance away.
“Y’can put me down,” Alastor slurred.
“Yeah, no. Not until my heart’s done trying to escape from my ribcage.”
“…like Adam’s…?”
He wrinkled his nose. “Seriously? You’re about to pass out after almost dying like twelve fucking times and you’re over here cracking jokes?”
Alastor shrugged, or at least he tried to.
Lucifer was quiet a long moment before adding, “Heaven’s not gonna be happy about this. I’d like to say Lute’s full of shit, but…” His lips twisted into a grimace. “You’re gonna be their number one target, Al. And I don’t know if that means they’re gonna just straight up try to kill you or if they’re gonna try and take you. Maybe both. You need to watch your back.”
Fuck.
Alastor’s dwindling hopes he’d be allowed to leave the military at the end of his mandatory service withered away, just like that. It didn’t matter he hadn’t wanted anything to do with this war. It didn’t matter he’d killed Adam in self-defense either.
This was his war now.
His last thought as the darkness took him was that he hoped his mother could forgive him.
Peeling his eyes open who knew how many hours later took monumental effort. Alastor didn’t think he’d ever been so exhausted in his life. He hadn’t known such a level of tiredness was possible. And after all that, the only thing to greet him was the same clinical ceiling that decorated every hospital on the planet.
He figured he’d wake up in medical after the battle. That didn’t make the humdrum sight any less jarring after everything he’d gone through. One moment he was plummeting to his death after facing down one of the most dangerous Archangels in existence, then the next he was concerned his hooves might fall off from the overzealousness of the staff’s hospital corners.
They’d killed an Archangel. The commander of Heaven’s army, Adam, was dead.
Adam was dead, and he’d been the one to land the final blow. Alastor couldn’t pretend otherwise, not with Lute witnessing it firsthand. If there wasn’t a target on his back before, there certainly was now.
How he’d transitioned from a low-ranking guide to becoming Heaven’s public enemy number one was beyond him. All he’d wanted was to become a radio broadcaster. Apparently that was too much to ask for.
Had it really only been a few months since he met Lucifer? It felt more like a lifetime.
Alastor lifted a hand to rub at his eyes, scowling when he caught sight of the IV attached to it. First things first, he was removing the IV and getting out of there. He needed to see Lucifer, to reassure himself the idiot hadn’t somehow gotten himself killed after he lost consciousness.
Powerful as he was, Lucifer was perhaps the most disorganized person Alastor had ever met. It was like his brain shut off when he wasn’t in battle to conserve power. There was a non-zero chance Lucifer could've gotten distracted, flown headlong into a window, and broken his neck while he was indisposed. Whatever the case, he wasn’t here and Alastor’s recuperation would have to wait until he was.
He wrapped his fingers around the IV tubing and was about to remove it himself when there was an actual squawk from the doorway. Alastor startled, blinking owlishly in that direction. He had no idea where his monocle was. If they thought keeping it away from him would stop him from locating his Esper, they were sorely mistaken. He had a secret technique they hadn’t accounted for: keeping his bad eye closed.
“What the fuck d’you think you’re doing?!” Lucifer demanded as he hurried to his bedside.
“I wasn’t doing anything,” Alastor replied, voice little more than a rasp. His burst of worry-fueled adrenaline faded upon recognizing him, and he all but collapsed back onto the mattress.
“Bullshit you weren’t,” Lucifer retorted, pointing an accusing finger at him.
Alastor tried to bat it away but missed. Lucifer caught his hand instead, taking it between both of his own and squeezing hard.
“I’m pretty sure you shaved at least a decade off of my life with that stunt of yours,” he said, tears shining in his eyes.
“Would you have preferred I let Adam vaporize you? That shaved at least twelve years off my life, so who’s the real victim here?”
Lucifer snorted as he leaned closer, scanning his face. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything? Painkillers? Water?”
“Coffee.”
“No can do on the coffee. Doctor’s orders.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I want to talk to the doctor.”
“The doctor said he’s not talking to you unless you’re actively dying.”
“I want to file a complaint then.”
“Baxter thought you’d say that. He told me to direct you to the nearest suggestion box.”
Alastor blinked. “Suggestion box?”
Lucifer pointed to something across the room. He squinted but couldn’t quite make it out from his present position.
“Er…trash can?”
“I’d like to schedule a follow up appointment to physically fight the doctor.”
“Something tells me he’s not gonna go for that either. What’d you do to him?”
“Why do you immediately assume I’m the one responsible?” Alastor demanded, shooting him a baleful look.
“Maybe because Baxter said he’d consider forgoing his oath to do no harm if you tried to start anything again? He is an A-Class Esper, y’know?”
“Who’s shorter than you. I could take him.”
Lucifer chuckled as he ran a fingertip along the shell of his ear before beginning to scratch at its base with his claws. “He also prescribed ear scritches if you got too feisty.”
“Someone who can’t take criticism shouldn’t be in a position of power.” The next bit may or may not have been mumbled into his pillow. “His days are numbered.”
“Criticism?”
“He doesn’t know everything about medicine.”
“After seeing you on the battlefield, I’d say you know a lot too,” the Archangel wisely agreed.
Alastor’s eyelids drooped as he lost ground in his fight against exhaustion. “…I’m glad you didn’t fly into a window and break your neck.”
“Uh, what?”
He gave a dismissive flop of his hand.
“Oookay. For the record, I’ve never flown into a window before. I’m also pretty sure you’re the only one between us who’s almost gotten himself killed several times now.” Lucifer paused, swallowing hard. “I… I didn’t know if I would reach you in time.”
“Afraid you’d get paired back up with a subpar Guide?” he teased, trying to ignore the way his heart lurched at the bleak expression that had overtaken his face.
It didn’t suit him.
His brow pinched as more storm clouds rolled in. “I’m serious, Al. I don’t know if I’ve ever been that scared before in my life. I know we’re both just trying to do our duty, but—“
Alastor summoned the strength to tilt his head away from his claws, eyes narrowing into slits. “I don’t give a fuck about duty or the military or any of the rest of it!”
Lucifer’s brows shot up.
One of his hands tightened in the sheets as he glanced away from him, voice softer as he added, “It might be that way for you, but it’s not for me.”
“A-Al…”
Despite not looking at him, Alastor caught the telltale wobble of his lower lip from the corner of his good eye.
“I’d prefer not to have to face down the entirety of Heaven just to keep you, but—“
Lucifer pressed their lips together, swallowing the rest of his words. Alastor froze, stunned. However, when the Archangel tried to pull away, he latched on to the front of his uniform, reeling him back in.
It was the first kiss they’d shared that didn’t involve Guidance, yet it left his head spinning and his skin tingling all the same.
“…fine. If I can’t have coffee, I’ll have you instead,” he decided aloud.
That startled a laugh from the other man, until Alastor began fumbling with his jacket buttons.
“Whoa! I’m pretty sure Baxter wouldn’t approve of that either!” Lucifer protested, clutching his lapels.
“Then Baxter can file a complaint in the suggestion box,” he said, redirecting his attention to his slacks instead.
“Uh, Al, as much as I’d really enjoy that, there’s something important you should know first!”
He arched a brow, pausing with his hand halfway down Lucifer’s pants. “Such as?”
“I…uh… I maybe…sort of…”
Alastor let his hand dip lower, fingers a hairsbreadth from his cock.
“I maybe sort of called your—“
“Mother!” Alastor yelped, yanking his hand back.
She stood in the doorway, a hand raised to her lips. “…I’ll just give you boys a minute,” she squeaked, spinning on her heel.
Alastor tried to scramble to his hooves to follow, but was thwarted by the hospital corners.
“I’ll go after her,” Lucifer insisted, pressing him back into the mattress before sprinting from the room.
His face burned hot in their wake. The battle with Heaven would have to wait until he could look his mother in the eye again first.