Chapter Text
Lucifer opened his eyes squinting groggily at the red light shining through the lobby’s stained glass windows. He glanced at the window, noting the setting ‘sun’, indicating that everyone must have slept later than anticipated.
Well, glancing around, maybe he had been the one who was tired.
Everyone else had seemingly up and disappeared, blankets ruffled and pillows discarded. The soft, quiet chatter from the kitchen indicated where everyone must have been, and he could faintly make out the smell of food through his stuffed up nose.
He stretched ideally, slightly relieved that the ache in his limbs had dulled, and his headache was nearly gone. Seems that his nap had done him some good, at least. He wiggles his hooves, releasing some of the pent up tension and aches before standing up. The congestion in his head shifted uncomfortably, having settled while he was lying down, but the slight discomfort was worth his ‘being able to breathe’ once it was done.
He slowly shuffled into the dining room, feeling a little groggy but overall much better than he had before.
The dining room was full of tables and booths, currently empty, but hopefully would be filled when they started getting guests. But for now, the seats remained empty.
Everyone was seated at a corner booth, in pajamas and blankets, chatting idly. Husk and Angel looked pretty much normal, other than a few sniffles and coughs. Vaggie would have honestly passed as healthy, and Charlie, although a little bit pale, looked much better. Nifty wasn’t with them, but Lucifer caught a glimpse of her cleaning the hall.
Overall, everyone seemed to be doing much better.
“Hello~” Lucifer greeted, pleasantly surprised to find that his throat no longer felt or sounded like nails on a chalkboard.
“Hi dad!” Charlie sprung up from her chair, pulling him into a tight hug.
Lucifer chuckled, returning the gesture. Sure, Charlie was squeezing him so tight that he could feel his ribs breaking, but the thought was nice at least.
“Hello to you Char-Char,” Lucifer laughs, “Feeling better?”
“Oh yeah, tons,” She pulls away, beaming, “Still a little tired, but I think I’ll be ready to reopen the hotel in a day or two!”
She looks like she’s about to burst with excitement as she twirls, sitting back down next to Vaggie. Lucifer personally didn’t feel as energetic, but he appreciated his daughter’s enthusiasm. He didn't think that he had ever been so excited to go back to work of all things; maybe for a new duck, but certainly not anything related to his job.
He glances down at the spread of food in front of them. Nothing fancy…
Well, he thought so?
Almost all of it was burned or sloppy. The toast was crisp, a black tinge on the edges, and the eggs were underdone. Lucifer raised an eyebrow at the jagged apple slices, the knife marks uneven and flimsy.
“So, uh who cooked that?” Lucifer asks, pointing at the food.
“Oh… um, Alastor did,” Charlie pipes up, smile dimming a little, “It’s uh, not quite his usual standard?”
“Just say it’s shit, kid,” Husk grumbled.
“But that’s mean!” Charlie protested, whining slightly.
“Well he ain’t wrong,” Angel piped up, “I mean, have you seen the apples? Looks like Smiles took a knife and started treating them like one of his murder victims.”
Angel imitated the action of a knife stabbing, and Charlie launched into a lecture on respect and redemption. Lucifer wasn’t really paying attention though.
Husk was right, Alastor’s cooking did look like shit; which was concerning, because Lucifer knew how skilled he was at it. So if things were coming out burnt and botched, then clearly something was wrong.
Lucifer glanced at the group. They were now completely involved in an argument about ‘etiquette’ and what not; he was fairly sure that if he slipped away now, no one would notice…
Carefully sneaking away, Lucifer made his way into the kitchen. He poked his head, finding Alastor sitting at the counter. He’s ditched his typical red pinstripe suit, and his bowtie was also undone and lying on the marble. He’s hunched over, sitting on one of the high raised chairs and gazing sleepilly at the newspaper.
Crumpled tissues and cough drop wrappers were scattered on the counter, a box of tissues sitting next to him.
“So I take it you’re not any better?” Lucifer asks, resting his elbows on the counter.
Alastor looks up, seemingly startled by his sudden presence.
“What are you doing? You know I don’t like to be interrupted in the kitchen,” Alastor grumbles.
Lucifer internally cringes. Alastor looked worse than last night, nose raw, red, and running, and the circle under his eyes made it look like he hadn’t slept at all.
“Yeah yeah. For starters, why are you even in the kitchen? You look like you’re about to die again,” Lucifer moves next to him, leaning against the counter.
Alastor rolls his eyes, which are rheumy and hazy, giving a disgusting sounding sniffle, “It’s not that bad. A minor ailment at best.”
“You sound like you’re suffocating in snot,” Lucifer states bluntly.
He was not buying anything coming out of his boyfriends’ mouth. Especially considering how he sounded like a foghorn when he breathed. Alastor grumbles irritably, rubbing his forehead.
“I’m fine, you’re overreacting,” he argues, before his shoulders start to shake with coughs.
“Yeah, no, I’m not buying that. Have you taken anything yet for that?” Lucifer walked towards the cabinet, letting his wings come out and flying up to the top shelf to peek in the medicine basket.
“... I’m maxed out on everything already,” he sniffles pathetically, letting his head fall onto the counter with a soft thud.
Lucifer sighed, flying back down and putting his wings back, “Actually?”
Alastor lets out a string of unintelligible grumbles, lifting his head back up and scrubbing at his nose with a fresh tissue. He does look pretty miserable.
“You know, you’d feel better faster if you weren’t pushing yourself,” Lucifer spoke in a singsong voice.
“I’m fine,” Alastor repeated, although his attempt at a firm statement fell short due to his stuffy nose and cracking voice.
“You’re literally shaking, Al. Get your ass into bed before I let everyone else know how sick you are.”
Alastor’s silent for a moment, his smile sour. He’s clearly contemplating, Lucifer can see the gears turning.
“... Fine, your shortness, I yield. I will… lay down. But only for a while,” He crossed his arms like a grumpy child.
“Sure, sure. Now come on, before you’re drowning in tissues,” Lucifer rolls his eyes.
Hopefully once Alastor’s actually horizontal, he won’t get up again. After all, Lucifer knew how hard the Angelic flu hit. It’s pretty bad when it first hits, sure, but then you were pretty much dead by the evening of the third day.
Alastor stands from his seat, starting to trudge out of the kitchen half heartedly. Lucifer trailed closely behind him, watching intently and at the ready incase he collapsed. He was fairly confident in his boyfriend’s ability to not faceplant into the carpet, but he wasn’t going to risk it.
The others looked back up as Alastor stalked through the dining room. They looked curious, and frankly Lucifer didn’t blame them; Alastor was currently quite a spectacle.
He looked a mess, nose rivaling Rudolphs with its bright red color. Zero irritation Lucifer’s ass, Alastor’s nose was clearly raw with how many times he had blown his nose, and the pile of used tissues in the kitchen were a testament to it.
But the hotelier had completely forgotten about his discarded coat and bowtie, which Lucifer had grabbed before the two of them started walking. Alastor was down to his long sleeved undershirt and pants. The collar on his shirt was starting to soak through with the sweat from the fever that Lucifer knew he had. His cheeks were flushed as if he had just gone through the greatest embarrassment Hell had to offer.
Frankly, he looked like how all the rest of them had felt a few days ago.
So yeah, Lucifer got why everyone was staring.
Charlie opened her mouth to say something, but Lucifer frantically shook his head. If anyone were to ask him anything, he would completely forget about resting, let alone taking a nap. Luckily, he seemed to catch his drift, and shut her mouth. Everyone seemed to have caught on…
Well, almost everyone.
Lucifer catches Angel’s gaze, and of course the spider demon wanted to do something crude, of course. He made a circle with one hand and a pointer with the other… Lucifer almost died of embarrassment then and there. He sped up his pace a little, feeling his face heat up in a golden blush.
Following Alastor out into the hall, he relaxed a little bit. Hopefully no one thought much of it… he was not ready for others to know about him and Alastor, but he was more concerned about whether or not Alastor was ready to let people know.
And speaking of Alastor…
Lucifer glanced up, looking at his boyfriend. He had stopped walking and was leaning up against the wall as he tilted slightly sideways.
“You-” Lucifer started.
Alastor cut him off, letting out a sickly wet belch and projectile vomiting all over the floor. Lucifer jumped back in surprise, before cringing in concern. So yeah, definitely not feeling too well. Alastor gagged again, more half digested food splattering onto the carpet hall before Lucifer stepped forwards.
Frankly, he wasn’t too sure what to do. Alastor being sick was completely new territory for him; if Lucifer could manage to do something without being eaten alive then he’d honestly take it as a win.
He gingerly pulled Alastor’s hair back, attempting to keep it away from the disgusting stream. Alastor didn’t attempt to bite or pull away, so it was probably a safe bet to assume Lucifer wasn’t royally screwed.
“You done?” He asked after a few moments.
“Mm.. more or less,” He mumbled, “I’d say sorry for the carpet, but it was ugly anyways.”
Lucifer let out a snort of laughter. Clearly being sick didn’t get rid of Alastor’s personality.
“Well what an elaborate way of messing up my decor,” He chuckled, using his magic to undo the damage,“Can you walk, or have you hit the point of ‘my legs are broken and life sucks’?”
“I suppose the latter,” He yawned.
“I figured, you look close to your second death.”
Alastor didn’t argue, which further confirmed Lucifer’s thoughts.
“If I try to carry you, are you gonna bite me?” Lucifer asked wearily.
“... I suppose not,” Alastor sighed, “Just give me a hand please.”
Lucifer offered a soft smile, lifting Alastor up into his arms. It was a little awkward with how big their height difference was; Hell, Alastor was nearly twice his height. But Lucifer was also strong, and was pretty sure he could manage. After a few moments of adjusting and nearly toppling the both of them, he manages to get into a position where he’s able to hold the taller men.
Alastor hides his face, which holds a look of irritation and mortification, “Will you just get it over with already? This is humiliating.”
“Aww, is someone’s pride hurt~” Lucifer teased, but nonetheless he started walking to his own room.
Alastor and Lucifer ‘shared a room’ so to speak, but they did each have their own space. Most of the time Alastor would just shadow teleport into Lucifer’s room late at night and disappear before anyone else woke up. Luckily, no one really went into Alastor’s room to question why there wasn’t a bed in there.
Lucifer managed to wiggle open the door without dropping Alastor, and stepped inside. The room was dark and pretty much untouched, considering Lucifer had been sleeping out in the lobby with the others. Although, that did also mean that Alastor hadn’t been sleeping either; frankly, Lucifer wasn’t surprised.
“Alright, bedtime for you,” Lucifer dropped Alastor onto the bed, receiving a glare.
“Gentle, your shortness,” he sneered grumpilly, “I did take care of all of you for a week. I could have just eaten you and been done with it.”
Lucifer held back a laugh at the pouty and almost childish expression on Alastor’s face.
“Oh, yeah? How would you cook us, in a soup?”
“You don’t deserve a soup for being so idiotic. I’d eat you raw,” Alastor huffed, burrowing into the blankets with a pathetic sniffle.
This time Lucifer did laugh aloud at the Radio Demon’s antics.
“Yeah, yeah. Come out of there before you suffocate,” He pulls away the blanket.
Alastor’s smile was more scowlish. Although, the effect was definitely dampened by the rheumy eyes and runny nose. Lucifer sat down next to him, throwing a pack of tissues at his face.
“Blow your nose, Rudolf, you sound like a broken record with all that sniffing.”
Alastor grumpily pulls one out and does as asked, blowing his nose. Lucifer cringes at the sound; it’s a gross, bubbling sound that’s thick with congestion. Lucifer would be surprised if he could even breathe through his nose.
“See, pointless,” Alastor grumbles, voice cracking and sniffly.
Lucifer ruffles his hair. Honestly, he’s not too good at the whole ‘caretaking’ thing. He was in isolation for longer than he’d want to admit, and Charlie was the last person he’d really ‘cared for’, and that had been ages ago. So he was a little awkward about it, if he was being honest.
“Get some sleep, yeah?” He suggests, patting his head.
Afterall, that was the one true source that Lucifer wholeheartedly trusted.