Chapter Text
As they lie in the silence, only populated by the soft hum of Vox's cooling fans, Lucifer takes a deep breath.
“I’m pathetic, aren’t I?” He laughs softly, staring up at the ceiling, “can’t even get out of bed, I try but—I don’t know, I blink, and it’s just nighttime again, so no point getting up”.
“S’not nighttime now”. Vox keeps his voice soft, matching Lucifer's. The angel only continues to stare up.
“Yeh”. He chokes out, slumping a little further into the mattress, crimson eyes glossy. Vox doesn’t pry further and just awaits Lucifer's next words, which may be sooner than he thinks, as Lucifer brings his hands up to his face, covering it. “I miss her”. He muffles through his hands. He sounds drained, utterly broken.
“Look, dude, s’normal. If I had a wife, and she just disappeared randomly, I’d be pretty sad too. Probably”. Vox receives a little eye roll. Lucifer then turns to his side, facing Vox now, but still avoiding eye contact.
Probably for the best.
“It’s more than that”. Lucifer says, “She was—she’s more than my wife, what we had—have, went beyond a simple romantic relationship”. Vox raises a brow. Lucifer looks up at him and makes a little displeased sound.
“What?” Vox says flatly, a little confused. Lucifer looks down at his hands.
“It was Adam or me. She never had an actual choice. But we still—we thought it was love, it was—is love, but just, maybe not the romantic kind”. Lucifer rubs his eyes.
“So, was it…platonic?” Vox asks, now understanding. It’s a little humorous listening to a divine immortal being try to comprehend a very basic and common human experience. “What, did the sex suck or something?” Vox snorts. Lucifer again rolls his eyes.
“Nah, it was great actually. Although she didn’t really like anything penetrative, which was a plus anyway, the female sex organ is far easier to manage”. He says it so matter-of-factly, and with no shame, Vox is speechless.
“Oh”. Is all Vox manages to say. “Wait—like…like you…you have a…” He, for some reason, feels a little shy; he’s never felt awkward talking about this sort of thing, but the vibe makes him feel as if it’s a little inappropriate.
“I’m a shapeshifter, dude.” Lucifer responds flatly, cutting off Vox's sputtering, almost annoyed at his hesitance. It may actually be making the conversation even more awkward.
Who brought up this subject again?
“Ah”. Vox taps his hands to a little rhythm on his stomach, relieving whatever tension his body was holding.
A moment passes, and the pair again lie there, waiting for the other to say something. Neither wanted to leave, but both were too shy to make conversation. It would just make it more painfully obvious they’re both avoiding whatever is in the air between them.
“I just…” Lucifer whispers, “I miss her”. He begins picking at his nails again, staring at them. “I miss my best friend.” His breath is shaky, but the little tear that slides down his cheek doesn’t go unnoticed.
It was unexpected, but before Vox knew it, his hand was reaching out towards Lucifer's face. Lucifer looks up from his hands, locking eyes with Vox, neither looking away this time. The tear had fallen to Lucifer's jaw, and with a slow swipe of his finger—careful not to scratch with his claw, Vox wipes away the tear.
For a beat, the two lie there, staring at each other, silently processing the tender action. Lucifer begins to shuffle, snapping Vox out of his embarrassed trance.
Did I actually just do that?
Beginning to retract his hand from Lucifer's face, Vox freezes as the angel's hand comes to rest on top of his, inching it closer, until Vox's palm gently cups his cheek. Vox can only watch in stunned awe as Lucifer leans into his palm, almost nuzzling it.
So small.
Lucifer's breath slightly hitches; Vox only notices it because he was staring so intently at their hands. When he met Lucifer's gaze again, he felt nothing but dread, as the flustered look on Lucifer's face could only be in response to one thing.
He had said that aloud.
Before Vox could come up with some excuse, Lucifer mumbles out, “As I said before, you’re just big”. He shyly looks away, pulling his hand back, and resumes picking at his fingers. Vox has to hold back the most pathetic whine and forces himself to pull his own hand away from the porcelain-like skin, noticing the slightly disappointed sigh that follows. Lucifer then turns onto his back again with small sniffles and rubs his eyes.
“It’s okay”. Voxs says softly, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Don’t feel bad about feeling bad”. He receives a tired sigh in response, feeling Lucifer slowly shifting around. He then feels Lucifer's arm against his; they’re now lying shoulder to shoulder. There’s a weird, awkwardly comforting tension between the pair. Vox couldn’t help but think back to how, only a couple of months ago, he had the very man beside him locked up and practically tortured as he almost took out half the pentagram. Now, that same man is showing him, the person who kidnapped him, spoke ill of his daughter, hurt and killed many others, his most vulnerable, pathetic, and languorous sides. If it wasn’t for Lucifer's proven bluntness and oblivious nature, Vox would’ve thought this was all some elaborate plan to try and manipulate him, break down his walls, and use his vulnerabilities against him. But this was worse. It was all real. The conversations, the tension, the actions, all real.
And it felt so easy.
So refreshing.
There was little fear of rejection, little fear of being humiliated, just the two of them existing in each other's space. It was an awkward, sometimes tense existence, but it was something solid—stable, it was hard to trust such a foundation.
A buzz interrupts the spiral, and Vox pulls his phone from his slacks. “It’s from Charlie, she’s asking if everything’s okay”. Vox says, glancing at Lucifer.
“Mmm,” Lucifer hums, looking at Vox's phone screen. “Yeah, I’m over it”. Lucifer sighs, sitting up suddenly. He stretches his arms above his head. Vox can’t help but chuckle at the string of cracks Lucifer's body makes.
Makes sense. Those are some old bones.
Vox stares as the angel settles, slouched over crossed legs. “You don’t have to be over it,” He manages to say, sitting up, now next to Lucifer again, “just, don’t shut your daughter out, you're her dad. Can’t really just go MIA, at least communicate with her”.
“I don’t want her to see me like this”. Lucifer's voice is rough and quiet; he stares ahead.
“Okay, then how’s this?” Vox begins, shuffling to sit in front of Lucifer, forcing him to look at Vox. “Whenever you’re feeling…like this,” Vox gestures to Lucifer with his hands, who raises a brow, unamused, “just let me know. I can tell the princess that everything’s fine”. Lucifer's expression softens as he thinks over Vox's proposition. “I can even hang out with you until you feel better.” Vox cringes, casually looking down. The offer sounded a lot more pathetic than he intended.
“Okay”. Lucifer responds. Vox looks back up to him, a little surprised. “Sounds good”. A soft smile paints Lucifer's face, and Vox can’t help but smile back.
A silent arrangement between the pair is settled.
“I should probably have a shower”. Lucifer sighs, sluggishly getting off the bed. Vox laughs in agreement.