Chapter Text
Lucifer was in his tower with Charlie, trying his best to give her feedback on some of her more, uh, interesting lesson plan ideas. Right now her focus was on getting the sinners to work together. Her idea? An escape room. She had explained the concept to him and 1- it sounded unnecessarily elaborate and 2- he couldn't understand how she didn’t see why that was such an insanely bad idea.
Pack a bunch of depraved sinners into a small room and it would either end in a bloodbath or an orgy, 50/50 chance.
Most of the demons who decided to stay were probably uninterested in salvation, and more looking for a place to crash for free (she frequently used that as a “selling point” soooo he kinda felt like it was being encouraged).
Anyway, he was trying to find a way to kindly explain and not just say something like, “This idea is shit,”—because he would never say that to Charlie, who he was finally trying to build a relationship with—when there was a loud explosion. Explosions were a regular occurrence at the hotel, but this one was accompanied by a cloud of bright green smoke. Uhg. That could only mean one thing.
This time the Radio Demon was the culprit.
He and Charlie walked to the window and, wow. The smoke was clearing and they could easily see the carnage.
Alastor stood in the courtyard, a few tentacles out as he twisted and crunched the body of the last sinner who apparently required “a more assertive handling”. Alastor’s words, not his. Violent, murderous, unnecessarily gruesome. Those all fit a bit better, but some things are better left unsaid.
Beside him, Charlie groans and thunks her head into the window. “Whhhyyyyyyy does he have to be like this?”
Lucifer glances down at Alastor again, who is now walking over to one of the bodies. Or, well, half of a body. Probably to eat it or whatever.
Lucifer absolutely could not stand this fucking guy. It felt as if he were trying to sabotage Charlie at every opportunity, or take as much care as possible into crafting situations Lucifer would hate. It was like he deliberately wanted to argue with him. Like he wanted Lucifer to be constantly thinking about him.
Why else would he pull this type of stupid shit, or make that mug or do other weird-ass things like wear a version of his own fucking outfit? Alastor hates his clothes. His level of pettiness clearly knows no bounds. There was no escape.
Even worse, Alastor was putting him through some weird emotional crisis, not that he knew it. Lucifer also—and he would rather go back to the isolation of his tower at the palace than admit it—kind of liked having Alastor around. He was constantly pushing Lucifer’s buttons, sure, but the arguing and banter was oddly fun after years of primarily talking to rubber ducks. Aaaand he was also maybe only a tiny bit into him. But only a little! We’re talking a miniscule amount of liking that Lucifer was absolutely not going to examine whatsoever.
How Alastor made him feel such conflicting, wildly opposite things was beyond him.
Outside, a handful of sinners that had been loitering scattered, disappearing down the road.
“He’s scaring people away! Not to mention that’s all just way too violent, it’s the direct opposite of the message we want to be conveying!” Charlie throws her hands in the air, bringing them down to clutch at her hair.
Alastor was now twirling his staff, likely a smug grin on that permanently smiling, disturbing but also weirdly attractive face. He gets mad just for having the thought.
Sighing, he looks over at Charlie. He hated seeing her so upset.
He gathers up every ounce of irritation, thinks about how pissed off Alastor makes him, hones in on that stupid fucking pink and white tailcoat. “Come on! Let’s go give him a piece of our minds, yeah?”
She turns to him, frowning. “Dad, can you please let me do most of the talking? You two always end up arguing and it never…well, it never ends well. I want him to understand, not see more property damage because you two can’t come to an agreement.”
“Listen, that was one time! Besides, that chair and coffee table were ugly anyways.”
“You made them.” A small smile twitches at her lips.That’s better. “Okay. Let’s go talk to him.”
He summons a portal, and they step out at the foot of the stairs of the main entrance.
Looking around, there were a few demons sitting to the sides looking a bit beat up, pieces of broken furniture at the top of the steps. He’s pretty sure it was somehow one of the couches from the parlour. Huh. Some sort of fight must have happened, prompting Alastor to go into cannibalistic monster demon mode. Honestly? Lucifer was a little bummed that he had missed it, but the feeling quickly went away upon hearing demons around them talk as they walked towards him.
“—and little miss Princess really thinks that we can be redeemed at this place? Because employing a bloodthirsty Overlord sets a great example, what a fucking joke.”
“Hah! Let's be glad she does, this would be so boring otherwise.”
Lucifer can feel his horns threatening to come out, and he grinds his teeth to keep from saying something, knowing it would only make Charlie more upset. He could deal with them later.
Glancing over he sees that her fists are clenched. Her eyes are bright, and with the way her mouth tilted and eyebrows came together he could tell she was fighting back the urge to cry. She had heard them.
That’s it. He was so fucking over it. With a silent apology to Charlie, he picks up the pace.
“Alastor!” He puts as much venom into his voice as possible, which was pretty easy considering what they just overheard. How dare he! He was the one responsible for what they thought of his daughter, and Lucifer would not tolerate anyone who made Charlie the point of their ridicule. Her job was already hard enough.
Charlie catches up and gives him a look that clearly reads as shut up. “Can we talk for a minute?” she asks Alastor, sounding a little bit tired. A little bit stressed.
The insufferable prick starts to turn towards them, “Yes, my dear?” when he abruptly stops, freezing and remaining completely still for a moment. Odd, but that hardly mattered.
“Please? It’s about, well, this.” Charlie gestures at the carnage in the courtyard. “I know you need to take care of some of the sinners that come through – “
He sends another silent apology to her. “It doesn’t have to be a goddamn bloodbath every single fucking time!” Lucifer rages, cutting her off. He’s closer now, and he reaches out to turn Alastor around, to make him look at their faces to help hammer the point home.
But before he can, Alastor melts into the shadows at their feet, darting towards the hotel before reappearing. His back is still turned, and he examines his nails idly.
“Oh please, it was just a bit of fun! Maybe if you wanted a less violent solution you could have your father try the task on for size, hmm?”
He turns his head completely around to look at him. Alastor fully knows it unsettles him, and Lucifer fights not to flinch at the crack of his neck.
Alastor flashes him a falsely radiant smile and tilts his head to the side. “Although, I’m skeptical it would fit!”
Fuck it. He’s going to kill him. “Oh why you–”
“Dad!” Charlie intervenes, stepping between the two of them eyes both irritated and pleading when she looks at him. “Can’t the two of you please stop, for just a few minutes?”
He loved Charlie. He wanted everything for her, would support her in every way possible. And while she may not realize it at the moment, this was best for her. “Sweetie, do you really think he’s going to listen?” He glares at Alastor, whose toothy grin only widens. “If he could destroy this entire hotel and everyone in it I’m sure he would.”
Alastor actually has the fucking audacity to nod at him in agreement.
Yup. That demon was definitely dying. Tonight. For real this time.
Charlie glares at him, arms crossed. “He has been helping us! There's just some….room for improvement!”
Room for improvement holy fucking shit. She couldn’t really believe that, could she?
He’s about to ask, when Alastor’s obnoxious voice interrupts. “Well, have fun arguing about me! It truly is flattering. Best of luck!” He sing-songs the last bit mockingly before disappearing into the shadows once more.
He turns to Charlie and gently takes her hands. “Sweetie, I know you prefer that I don’t interfere too much, but I’m interfering. He may not listen to me right now, but I’m the fucking King of Hell! That’s someone he should listen to.”
Her eyes go wide. “Dad, no! What could you possibly be thinking that would make him listen? You can’t force him. Or hurt him!”
“I would never do any of those things,” he says like a liar, hopefully. “I’ll try just talking to him first. He does seem to like you well enough, so maybe there’s something there.
“I’ll see you in a bit. Meet me in the kitchen later and we can cook something together for dinner. Just for us, and Vaggie, if she wants to join.That sound good?”
Charlie smiles at him, still looking a bit sad, but at least it was a genuine smile on her face. She nods. “I’ll help by handing you things, last time I tried actually cooking it was a disaster.”
Lucifer summons a portal, laughing. It had been a goddamn nightmare. “You got it, kiddo.” And he steps through.
The radio tower was the only place he could be, probably watching from up high thinking he was so powerful and just oh so much better than all of them.
With Charlie gone, Lucifer can finally give in to the anger he felt. Alastor was so impossible, so frustrating. Granted, Charlie was probably right and he shouldn’t have kicked things off so aggressively, but their interaction was bound to get there eventually. They always did.
He had been in the radio tower exactly once (that was not a happy day in Hell), and it turns out he placed his portal perfectly. The Radio Demon was directly in front of him, sitting hunched over in his stupid red chair.
Lucifer doesn’t even bother making an attempt at conversation.He just gets right to it, horns and tail out, fire on his breath.
The bastard looks up and only smirks at him. There it was again, the feeling that Alastor wanted a fight.
“Why the fuck do you just think you could walk away?” Lucifer growls. “Charlie is trying to do something here, something good, and all you're doing is making things more difficult for her!” Lucifer gets closer, face level with Alastor’s for once due to him sitting.
He reaches out, grabbing the sinner by the collar of his shirt and jacket.
“If you do anything to ruin this for her, you are going to fucking regret it.” Lucifer yanks him forward. “Do you understand me?”
And of course Alastor isn’t the least bit intimidated, smiling mockingly at him.”No. You are quite a bewildering individual, I must say! And not exactly worth the time finding out.”
This fucking guy. Lucifer tightens his grip, gathering up more of the material and drawing Alastor in so that their faces were practically touching. The movement causes his knuckles to brush over something rough and wet and Alastor winces slightly, radio static gathering in the room.
Lucifer pauses and looks down.
There was a lot of blood soaked into his fur and shirt. The red splattered brightly against the pink and white and, after a moment of silence, what comes out of his mouth was probably the most ridiculous thing he could have said. “Why in the hell did you choose to wear light fucking colors when you have an open wound in your chest?”
He releases Alastor and steps back, the scene taking a little of the wind out of his sails.
Normally he would take a moment to savor the sight of Alastor humbled. And to maybe admire how he looked leaned back in the chair, shirt halfway undone.Even the blood was doing something for him. Despite how much they argued, as much as Alastor hated him, Lucifer could still acknowledge that Alastor was, unfortunately, kind of hot. But his weird attraction to Alastor would have to wait because shit. That was an angelic wound.
“My good man if you cannot understand then perhaps you should consider some of Charlie’s lessons on being a bit more self aware!” Calm as ever, he pulls a glowing green needle from his chest. He must have accidentally stabbed himself when Lucifer grabbed him. “Now if you don’t mind, I have a little work to do. Unless you can actually make yourself useful, there isn’t a reason for you to stay.”
Lucifer feels a twinge of guilt. He hadn’t even registered that Alastor was trying to stitch himself back together.
He watches as Alasstor tries to make another pass, but the skin around the wound was rough. He eventually managed, but good god he was doing a terrible job. Not to mention that it wasn’t going to do anything.
Alastor would never agree to Lucifer healing him outright. He was too proud for that, and would inevitably view it as a debt. No, he would instead expect a deal. Lucifer hated making them, but needs must.
“Wow. You’re really bad at this. Not a single one is straight and the spacing is horribly inconsistent.” He pauses. It was go time. Hoping he sounds irritated and not worried Lucifer asks, “Do you want some help with that?”
Alastor finally looks up, disbelief written across his face. “Come again?
“This, asshole. Do you want help? Trust me I’d rather not, but considering how upset Charlie would be if you died, I’ll extend the offer. Otherwise it’ll fester and you’ll slowly burn up from the inside and die.”
As predicted, Alastor’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You can heal this? You would do this purely for Charlie’s sake?” He scoffs. “Why do I have a feeling there’s a caveat to this?”
Lucifer grins wide, showing his teeth. Might as well take advantage of the situation. “I do this, and you never, ever refer to yourself as a father to Charlie again. No more talk about having some special bond, or pretending you support ideas like this –” he gestures to the stupid jacket and shirt, “– just to spite me. If you agree to these terms, I will heal you.”
There was silence while Alastor seemed to be mulling it over, his expression one of distaste. He clearly didn’t love the proposal, but Alastor wasn’t an idiot. Or at least, so Lucifer (foolishly) thought. He did not expect the confident, cheerful “No!” he receives as a response.
“Why are you so impossible?” Groaning, he stares at the ceiling. “I am offering you my help, at a pretty damn good deal, too. Are you really this stupid?”
“No, your highness. I simply do not wish to make a deal where I lose.”
Lucifer’s brain grinds to a halt. ”How the fuck do you lose here? You don’t die from a fucking angelic wound!”
“Perhaps. But I would no longer be able to use my favorite insults anymore, therefore it is still a loss!”
Lucifer couldn’t believe this. Well, no, he could. This was a demon fueled by pettiness and spite. But Alastor was going to have to suck it up and accept his help, because something really needed to be done about that injury.
Too much pushing and Alastor would send him soaring out a window, and then he’d never get to heal him. He sighs. Contemplating what to do, Lucifer settles for meeting him in the middle. He snaps his fingers to produce a golden needle and thread, and Alastor’s expression immediately gets weary.
“And just what do you think you’re doing, sire?”
Sire. He would say literally anything other than his actual fucking name. “I’m going to do it for you. This is a task I can do simply for Charlie’s sake.”
“Isn’t that angelic? Won’t it have a similar effect?”
Lucifer shakes his head. “This is different,” he reassures. “Remember, I’m not entirely an angel anymore, and this is pure angelic power for creation, healing, things like that.”
Before he can protest, Lucifer snaps his fingers again to dissolve Alastor’s green thread and needle. “Come on. Open your shirt more so this is easier. I want to be done with this already.”
“I will not be indebted to you.”
“Oh for fucks sake, I already told you! This is for Charlie, not you. I don’t care if you die or not, but she, for whatever reason, does. Now pull back your shirt. The thread and needle I have will work much better, and you won’t be changing it every other day like you probably are.”
He actually kind of hated telling Alastor he didn’t care, but he had few options.
Shockingly, after a rather pouty sounding “fine”, Alastor does as asked, undoing another button and slipping the fabric partially off his shoulders. Trying not to think too hard about Alastor being so exposed, Lucifer sits astride his lap. Wow their faces were close. Technically it happened a lot, but it was always when they were arguing.
Asastor seemed to be thinking something similar. “Is this really necessary?”
His ears were pinned back and fuck he wanted to touch them so bad. No! Focus, Lucifer!
“You want to go and lie down in your bed? That’s the other option.” He was pretty sure the sight of the radio demon below him, in a bed, would fry whatever was left of brain. It was too much. “It’s gonna be a little awkward no matter what.”
A pause. “I am perfectly fine here, thank you. Now get on with it.”
Lucifer is simultaneously relieved and disappointed. “Bastard.”
He presses a hand to Alastor’s chest, allowing some of his power to dull the burn he knew Alastor would be feeling. It wasn’t permanent, but it would help in the short term. He starts with the first stitch, and Alastor doesn’t react. He only sits there rigidly, staring very intently at him as if mapping out every inch of his face. Hopefully he didn’t find anything too interesting.
“You’re staring very loudly. Do I have something on my face? Do you have something annoying to say? An insult?”
“Oh, nothing of the sort! I was contemplating how expressive you typically are. You are quite serious at the moment. And a little concerned, if I’m not mistaken?”
Lucifer’s hand falters, and he feels a blush creep into his cheeks. Why? Why was he fucking blushing? Things aren’t helped when Alastor apparently decides to double down.
“My, my, that angelic face of yours is becoming rather radiant! Are you well? Although I must say, the gold is quite fetching.”
Fuck! He knew it was only going to get worse, spreading across much of his face and neck. He tries so hard to be dismissive.
“Compliments now? Flattery and your smooth talking won't get you anywhere with me.” His voice hits an odd pitch near the end and, yeah, he is definitely not successful.
And Alastor just continues. “Compliments? Sire, you should know I do not do compliments. I'm simply telling you the truth!”
He couldn’t work like this. He unwillingly found his eyes moving down, following the edges of his shirt to where it was barely tucked into his pants (why was that hot? Why?), before moving back up over his chest, to his long neck, how the shirt framed his collar bones. Fuck he needed to just get this over with.
As if reading his mind, Alastor has the audacity to repeat his own words back at him. “Are you ever going to finish? Or do you intend to stare loudly at me for the duration of the evening?”
“I– you're annoying. Seriously, do you ever shut up?” Good one.
“Is that rhetorical or a genuine question?”
“Shut up!”
Lucifer feels a thrill go down his spine as Alastor leans in close and says dangerously, “Why don’t you make me?”
Fuck. He really wasn’t sure what brought this brand of confidence on, and while he was definitely into it now really wasn’t the time. He stabs Alastor with the needle a bit harder than necessary. And the fucker just laughs.
“You’ll have to work a bit harder than that, my dear.” Alastor’s face was so close to his, breath hot across his cheek. His eyes dart down to Alastor’s lips which, fuck, no! He tries to cover the slip up by keeping his gaze down. An awkward position, but oh well. He could manage. It was better than looking up and seeing that stupid face and his stupidly kissable looking mouth.
Quickly finishing the final two he snaps his fingers and the needle vanishes, stitches all properly in place. Wow. He really could have just used his power for that. He hopes that never occurs to Alastor. He needed to process this.
“There. You're done. Now fuck off.”
“I live here. But if you'd like to stay, well….that’s up to you.”
Well then. He made a great point, this wasn’t his room and…wait. Was Alastor suggesting he stay? While he was sitting in his lap, faces so, so close—
“Now that we’ve been through all that, what would you say if I told you I was willing to take your little deal?”
Lucifer almost screams. He slouches forward, dropping his head forward and mentally curses Alastor in 30 different languages to calm himself down.
Fine. Okay. They’d make their deal, he’ll heal it and they’d be done. Easy. He sits back up.
“I just went through the work of sewing you up and now you want me to heal you? Do you just enjoy pain or something?”
“Correct on both counts!”
Holy fuck the implications. Lucifer tries (and fails) to keep his mind out of the gutter, but that was certainly an interesting piece of information he would never be able to forget.
Of course Alastor has to go and make things worse yet again. Smile wicked, he leans in again, so much so that if he turned his head ever so slightly their lips would easily find the others. And then he delivers the final blow.
“Now. What do you say, Lucifer?” he drops his voice low, layering the radio static and fuck he had be aware of what he was doing, right?
“Fine,” he gasps, fighting to get his voice under control. “I heal you, and in exchange you never, ever, refer to Charlie as being like your daughter again. No more fatherly figure bullshit. No pretending like you’re part of her dysfunctional family. No more ‘our’ Charlie, or weaponizing my shortcomings as a parent. None of it.”
Alastor's smile grows. “I accept. So, do we have a deal?”
He continues to use that suggestive, unfairly sultry voice. Was Alastor trying to seduce him? Him, the King of Hell, the original sin and all that? Insane.
Insane because it was fucking working.
He had to win back some control here.
Taking a deep breath, Lucifer decides fuck it. He could totally make their bad relationship worse, but the temptation was just too strong and Alastor was the one steering things in this direction, seemingly very much on purpose.
He lets his eyes flicker red as he gives Alastor a dangerous and seductive smile of his own. He slides his hands slowly up and fists them into the open collar again, allows his horns and tail to reappear, twisting it around one of the sinner's ankles.
All of a sudden, Alastor looks far less confident.
“Deal.” And Lucifer jerks Alastor forward, finally slamming his mouth into his.
It was a bit rougher than he intended, but oh well. He presses forward into the kiss, insistent, and Alastor opens his mouth. Fuck yes. He slides his tongue inside, runs it over his and the roof of his mouth, desperate. He had wanted this for so long.
That fuck yes feeling lasts for only a few seconds. Alastor isn’t reciprocating and sits completely frozen beneath him. Shit.
Gently, he pulls away, preparing for Alastor’s rage. “I’m sorry I – I thought this had been leading somewhere, but I can stop.” Had he truly been that off the mark? “ We can just shake on it and be on our separate wa–”
He’s cut off as Alastor roughly grabs him by the front of his shirt. He looks absolutely pissed and for a moment he thinks he’s about to be fighting the Radio Demon, but the look in his eyes says something entirely different.
With a growl that sends shivers down Lucifer’s spine, Alastor makes his intentions clear. “You are the one who set this in motion. Finish it.”
Didn’t need to tell him twice. Lucifer surges forward and captures his mouth once again and this time Alastor is ready and willing. He parts his mouth almost immediately, and he can feel Alastor trying to copy him in his movements. Inexperienced, but certainly enthusiastic, and he was sure Alastor would pick up on things quickly. He digs his knees into the chair, lifting himself higher, careful not to put pressure on his wound.
He feels Alastor curl a clawed hand around his waist and holy shit it almost went the entire way around. He felt hot all over and fuck that was definitely something he was going to have to unpack later.
Suddenly, Alastor roughly tugs his hair and Lucifer breaks away, gasping. He accidentally digs his claws into the demon’s shoulders but it didn’t matter, not if the noise Alastor made was anything to go by.
Alastor starts to take control then, and Lucifer willingly hands it off to him as he changes the angle of his head, tilts Lucifer’s chin, pulling him down and –
The deal falls into place, and Alastor abruptly pulls himself away. It was disorienting, going from having Alastor’s tongue shoved down his throat to nothing. Damn. Things had been looking so promising, too. But now Alastor is snarling at him, cutting him off as soon as he tries to speak.
“Get out. The deal has been made so we are done here, for now.”
What. The. Fuck. He had terrible taste in men. Of fucking course that out of all the people is this hotel, this is the one he decided he was into. Fuck his life.
Dismissing his more demonic features (was he crazy, or did Alastor look disappointed?) Lucifer glared at him. “Are you serious? I offered you an out that, just as a reminder, you rejected, and now you don’t want me to heal you because what? Are you going to throw a tantrum over this because you didn’t like it? Unbelievable.”
“Stop making assumptions” he snaps. “And there was no stipulation regarding timeline. I’m not about to keel over, so it can wait.”
Hold on. Assumptions? Did this mean Alastor had….enjoyed it?
Paying more attention, there was definitely a bit of a flush to Alastor’s face. Lucifer tries to speak, but the sinner quickly slaps a hand over his mouth. Cute. “Fuck you.”
Rolling his eyes, Lucifer pulls his hand away. He decides to push, just a bit to see what happens. “Well if you want that next I wouldn't say no – “
“Get off of me you insufferable buffoon!” A second later he is on the floor, back to his usual vantage point of looking up at Alastor. He grins, taking in the now very obvious blush on his cheeks and neck and, oh lord, down his chest too. A devious expression on his face, Lucifer can’t help himself. “Are you going to make me?”
He almost laughs when the antlers grow an inch, the following “I hate you” one of the least convincing things he’s ever heard.
Standing, Lucifer opens up a portal behind himself. He had told Charlie he’d meet her in the kitchen, but just for the effect he makes the portal lead to his bedroom. He ensures the bed would be right in Alastor’s line of sight.
“Well, whenever you’re ready for me to take care of that,” he points to his wound, “or anything else for that matter, you know where to find me!” Then he winks, and with a wave allows himself to fall back into the portal, landing on the bed. Staring up at the ceiling and watching the gold fade, he stretches and claps his hands together.
That was not even close to how he expected things to go, but overall he felt this particular confrontation went waaaay more than just well. And in his favour, too.
Alastor was definitely mad and going through some sort of crisis, so he’d leave him be for now. After all, the hungry look in the demon's eyes told Lucifer everything he needed to know.
Alastor would seek him out.