Chapter Text
Lucifer stood in the hallway, scanning the lobby. Why did I come down here? He sighed internally, sauntering into the room nonetheless.
Alastor slumped over the table, his vision swerving in and out of focus. Charlie and Vaggi hovered over him, exchanging whispers.
Lucifer stumbled.
“Dad?” Charlie exclaimed.
“Hello, my favorite daughter.” He bounded up to her, throwing his arms around her in a suffocating embrace.
“Okay, okay. Can’t breathe,” she choked.
“Ah, sorry about that,” he chuckled sheepishly.
“Are you… alright?” Charlie murmured, her eyebrows furrowing.
“Of course, of course! Just a little tired,” he reassured.
“Uh huh…” She nodded, pacing back over to the table. She plopped down on the couch next to Alastor, poking the side of his head with a tentative finger.
“Can you stop your incessant badgering?” Alastor hissed, straightening up. Indigo circles tugged at his watery eyes. His static crackled.
“Sorry!” Charlie squeaked, inching away.
Alastor curled back over the table, his head resting on his arms.
“Someone’s in a good mood today,” Lucifer drawled.
“I am going to rip you limb from limb,” Alastor groaned. He shoved his hands over his ears.
“Isn’t that just lovely-” Lucifer started.
“Dad, drop it,” Charlie pleaded. With a reluctant, petty sigh, Lucifer obliged. Anything for my darling girl, I suppose.
Lucifer trudged over to the other side of the table, collapsing down onto the couch. He hugged his knees to his chest with a hefty sigh. His head throbbed.
“Who died?” Angel blurted, waltzing into the room and stopping in his tracks at the sight of Alastor and Lucifer.
“Be quiet,” Vaggi demanded. Angel shot her a look but obeyed.
Lucifer started to doze off, nestling himself deeper into the corner of the couch. Alastor sat across from him, face flat on the table. He slid from the couch down to the floor, bracing himself against the carpet.
Silence hung heavily in the lobby, only to be burst by Charlie.
“Idea!” She declared. Lucifer pried his head up from his legs. “You’re both sleep deprived-”
“Keen observation,” Alastor remarked.
“You’re both having nightmares-”
Alastor snapped back up. “I’m never telling you anything again.”
“Why don’t you just spend a night together? Maybe it’ll… cancel out?” Charlie hypothesized.
“Ha… yeah. Absolutely not. I love you, my dearest demon daughter, but that is not happening. Never in a millenia. Nope. No way,” Lucifer protested.
“For once in an afterlife, I agree with your father, Charlie,” Alastor lamented.
“No no no no no no, listen!” She implored. “It’s just one night. You’ll be in my dad’s room with the big bed. You won’t even have to talk. Just hear me out.”
Unfortunately, they did.
Alastor hovered in the doorway, arms clinging to his sides. His perpetual smile stretched taut across his face, his eyes squinted disdainfully.
“This is ridiculous,” he chided.
“Do it for Charlie,” Lucifer sighed. “We don’t have to talk to each other. You can pretend like I’m not even here.”
Alastor grumbled under his breath, padding into the room. The door swung shut behind him. The lock clicked.
“Well shit,” he carped. “This is just perfect.” He circled around to the left side of the bed, dropping his bag down onto the floor.
Lucifer studied him as Alastor rummaged through his things. It felt almost foreign to see Alastor in anything but the suit suspiciously like his. He looked almost human in just a shirt and pants.
Alastor thought the same about him.
Lucifer bit back a sigh, climbing into the bed. Alastor flickered off the lights and then did the same. They laid side by side, staring up at the ceiling with drooping eyes.
Alastor cringed as he picked up on Lucifer’s smell. Sweet and spicy, like cinnamon. He despised that he didn’t hate it. Lucifer almost groaned at the heat radiating from Alastor’s body, bleeding into the frigid night.
Alastor shifted on his side, facing away from the king.
“This is awkward,” Lucifer whispered.
“Yeah,” Alastor agreed. “I hate you.”
“It’s reciprocated, buddy.” Lucifer sighed, curling back up into a ball, facing Alastor’s back. His vision started to fuzz out and wear at the corners. He closed his eyes.
Alastor’s breathing started to slow. They both sank into sleep, only inches apart.
Alastor gripped the side of the bedframe to keep himself from lurching upward. The mattress shook for a second before settling back to normal. Hasty, ragged breaths ripped through his lungs as he feebly attempted to breathe through the pounding in his heart that ricocheted off his ribs.
He stared up at the ceiling as the cold sweat dried on his forehead. He focused on the aroma of cinnamon lingering off Lucifer’s skin. The static buzzing from Alastor’s frame faltered as he inched further from the edge of the bed. His arm brushed against Lucifer’s.
Lucifer’s arm was warm and smooth, exuding heat that stained the freezing air. Alastor leaned into it. The night plodded on, and Alastor fell into a sleepless rest.
Mere minutes later, Lucifer’s breath caught in his throat. He stifled a pitiful squeak, clamping his hand over his heart. His throbbing pulse bit down on his ears and flooded his hearing.
His eyes split open, stinging from the hot, salty sweat dripping into them. He shoved his quivering hands into his pockets, his arm brushing against Alastor’s. Shit. Alastor’s gonna kill him for that.
Lucifer turned onto his side, focusing his gaze on the light pouring out from underneath the bathroom door. That sliver of light illuminated the whole room and cast shadows. If he just stays focused there, maybe he’ll be okay.
Alastor shifted restlessly beside him.
“You okay, Al?” Lucifer mumbled.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“It’s… it’s cold,” Lucifer announced. Alastor shifted closer. Tentative heat emanated from his body. Lucifer wordlessly inched closer until their arms pressed up against each other. “Is this okay?”
“Yes.”
They let silence envelope them for a moment.
“Lucifer?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I please turn on the light?” Alastor queried, his voice almost inaudible. Lucifer’s lips twisted in a sympathetic, aching smile.
“Sure,” he replied.
Light swallowed the shadows in the room, streaming from the overhead lights. Alastor propped himself up on his elbows. Lucifer curled back into a ball.
“Do you mind if I read?” Alastor offered.
“Not at all.”
Alastor retrieved a book from his bag, sliding a knee up to his chest to place the book against. Lucifer sat up, peering over at the pages.
“Whatcha reading?”
“A book,” Alastor deadpanned.
“Oh, come on, bambi. We were really bonding there for a moment. You can give me something,” Lucifer whined.
“Fine. It’s The Great Gatsby.”
“Hm, I read that one,” Lucifer chimed.
“Really? You can read?” Alastor teased. Lucifer swatted him gently in the head.
“Be quiet.”
Alastor snickered.
“I’m cold,” Lucifer complained.
“Pray tell - what am I supposed to do about that?”
“I dunno…” Lucifer trailed off. He wiggled up against Alastor’s shoulder. Alastor put an arm around him.
Oh lord. They were gonna have to talk about this after.
Alastor read until morning, Lucifer snoring softly against his chest.