Chapter Text
Rivalries were serious business in Hell. Of course they were- if you were sent down there or wanted to make sort of name for yourself, chances are you weren’t the type to forgive and forget.
Resent and remember, bitch.
Lucifer had always thought of himself as above them; at least, above the way sinners handled the ordeal. It was a sacred thing to have someone you wanted dead, not something to waste on every soul that looked at you wrong. Where was the charm? The fun? The theatre?
Just messy emotions and collateral damage.
So, no, he wasn’t falling over himself for the chance to hate some guy with a tv for a head. He wasn’t that easy.
But Alastor didn’t know that.
“Hey, Al, can I borrow your phone?” he asked the deer that afternoon, knowing full well the overlord didn’t own any appliances made after the Dust Bowl.
“I don’t have one,” Alastor replied as he sat across him at the lounge. “It really doesn’t do you any good to stare at a screen all day, sire; scrambles the brain, doesn’t it?”
“I wasn’t asking for advice,” Lucifer winced at his own words being thrown back at him, reminding himself that the rewards would be worth the trouble. “Just needed some help.”
Pause for dramatic effect. “Vox hacked my phone.”
Alastor’s eye twitched. “Did he?”
He did, actually- something Lucifer discovered during his daily scroll of cute duck videos. He wasn’t tech-savvy enough to identify if anything had been tampered with, but he could tell when he received push notifications telling him to go fuck himself. It was very annoying, to be honest.
“Yup,” he boasted. “Typical Vox, am I right? Bet he’s been bothering you all week too, huh?”
“In a way,” Alastor gritted his teeth. “Would you like me to dispose of him?”
“Nope- this is between us,” Lucifer dismissed. “I’d hate for you to get involved with us. Because it’s not about you. Did I make that clear?”
“Crystal,” Alastor snapped as he stormed off. Lucifer’s satisfied smirk was quickly interrupted by yet another notification.
SHARKS ARE WAY COOLER THAN DUCKS BTW
Oh, this bitch.
Lucifer knew that he probably shouldn’t be encouraging this. Despite being a total loser, Vox was capable of posing a threat, and he really needed to do something about his phone.
But it wasn’t as if the demon could do anything to hurt him- hell, he barely even left his tower to bother him. That was a shame, because he had more muscle than Alastor (not like that was hard to have), and Lucifer was curious to see what being manhandled by him would be like.
Huh. That was a weird thought to have. He blamed it on early-morning grogginess.
He sipped coffee at the bar, hearing Charlie struggle through a group-baking session from rooms away. He should help, probably- he liked baking. Perhaps there were more important things in the realm than petty slap-fights with other grown men-
“What is that?” Alastor had manifested next to him faster than expected, sending him nearly toppling over.
“What’s what?” he asked, trying to regain stability.
“That.” Alastor pointed at his coffee.
“…coffee?”
“What are you using to carry it?”
“A mug?” he echoed. “Did you hit your head or something, bellhop?”
Of course, Lucifer knew perfectly well what the problem was. The mug had an illustration of a harpooned shark with the words ‘GO HOOK YOURSELF’ painted across it- one of his better puns, if he did say so himself.
Alastor agreed, clearly. He was about retort with something when Charlie had appeared around the corner.
“Hey, dad? Can you see this for a sec?”
Everything that could be plugged into a socket in the kitchen was in a state of chaos, short-circuiting with seemingly violent intent. Actually, with blatantly violent intent. The oven appeared to be actively ensnaring smaller demons into jaws.
Unfortunately, Lucifer could tell this was his fault.
“Wow, Char, this sure is… strange!” he told his daughter in a totally unsuspicious manner. “It reminds me- I need to go out and do something super unrelated for a while. My bad.”
“Really?” she asked. “I mean, I guess if you have to, but-”
“Since your father is so intent on avoiding responsibilities, I’d love to solve this little predicament of yours,” Alastor announced by the doorframe, dodging a malfunctioning toaster. “Duties of a host, and all.”
Lucifer frowned. “Yeah, sure, like you care about your job- I’ll handle it.”
“Maybe it’s best if you two worked together?” Charlie offered.
Fine. If he had to.
Lucifer hated the entertainment district; it was loud and grimy and mugging was more prevalent than average. He didn’t go there there if he could help it- he didn’t leave the hotel at all if he could help it, but that was neither here nor there.
If he clutched the radio demon’s sleeve while they approached V tower, it was just an impulse and also no he didn’t.
“So, uh, do we just walk in, or…?” he asked.
Alastor shrugged. “Usually, I just speak my mind until my is presence known.”
“HEY, LOSER, COME ON OUT,” Lucifer bellowed, startling more than a few passerby. He kicked a rock. “Does this actually work or are you just messing with me-”
Vox teleported in front of the two, currents sparking across the street. Drama queen. “Lu, so good to see you- why is he here?”
“You tell me,” he rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m gonna need you to lay off on the hotel. You don’t see me messing with your lame sinner stuff.”
“You can’t do anything,” Vox scoffed.
“Yeah, I can’t,” Lucifer said. “Kinda sad that’s the only reason you’ve made it this far, huh?”
“I think I could handle the runt of Heaven just fine on my own.”
“Sure you could. Given the opportunity, I will pound your flat screen into oblivion.”
“And then what?” Vox’s tone lowered an octave, tugging at his bowtie.
And, like.
Lucifer knew temptation. It was kind of his whole thing.
But who was he to deny something so new and shiny when it was practically begging for his attention?
“Wouldn’t you like to know, sinnerman-”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t we come here for something?”
“Oh my god, Al, no one cares.”
“In the middle of something, red guy!” Lucifer snapped, not taking his eyes off his target. “Wanna go back to your place and, like, throw stuff at each other’s heads?”
“Sure, if you can aim that high.”
“Oh, fuck you too.”
“Seventy years. Seventy years of rage and resentment, and he thinks Lucifer is an appropriate substitute? The man barely knows where he is half the time.”
“I don’t give a shit.”
“I’m not finished, Husker. And about Lucifer! What does Vox possess that I don’t have in spades? Clearly, he’s foolish enough to think that this little display could get under my skin. Which it isn’t.”
“Sure.”
“It isn’t.”