Chapter Text
"Did you have any relation to the victim?"
"Somewhat, I only saw them every now and then when I closed up shop. They always sat on that bench over there," (M/N) pointed over at the rickety wooden bench pieced together with metal screws, rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand as he sighed and continued speaking, "I wish I had come down into work yesterday so I could've helped save him somehow." The young man looked at the medium-height detective asking him questions in a caring voice, who had her mostly-blonde hair in a loose ponytail with brown roots peeking out at the top, and then crossed his arms with a longer sigh.
"Are you sure that you didn't just "stay home" to murder a man?!" The attractive guy accused (M/N) with a raised eyebrow before the brown-root detective - the woman had told (M/N) her name at the beginning, but the small coffee-shop owner couldn't seem to remember her name - glared up at the odd "detective." Was he even a detective? (M/N) thought to himself.
"No, I absolutely didn't. First of all, no motive, second, I was extremely sick, and third of all, I would never hurt anyone," (M/N) trailed off at the end, breathing in shakily as he realized the weight of what had happened last night, "Except the person who killed this man. He deserves some form of hurt or punishment."
Lucifer raised an eyebrow at the young man's words and smirked to himself before leaning down to get better and closer eye contact with him, "Tell me then, what do you desire? Deep in your heart?"
(M/N) leaned back with a gross look on his face, smelling the alcohol off of the man's breath, "Jeez, you drink this early in the morning?" (M/N) simply shook his head with one of his fingers scratching at the inner edge of his left eyebrow, speaking genuinely in response to the "alcoholic's" question, "I just want to be successful and make people happy with what I make."
Lucifer's head reared back similarly to how (M/N) leaned back from him, however it was a lot more aggressive before he spoke with a dark and nervous tone, "Did my father send you? How are you immune to it? Detective Decker here is the only one immune!"
Said detective sighed at her civilian consultant's words and cut her partner's words off, speaking in a practical, somewhat soft tone, "Don't listen to my partner, he's very accusatory sometimes. Can we interview your workers? They might be of some help for our investigation."
"Of course, here, let me write you a list of the numbers. Although, some of them might be here already," (M/N) said with a gentle, heartwarming smile before exiting the conversation and entered his shop. He held open the door for the two detective and then left to behind the cash register counter, pulling out a notepad from underneath the counter-top and the pen that had been residing behind his ear. Thankfully, he only had a staff of twenty people if you included the interns (that were getting paid - specifically because (M/N) had always believed that work = money), so (M/N) was finished writing the list within a couple minutes. He had memorized their numbers in case he had to call from someone else's phone in case of an emergency. "Here you go Detective. I hope this will be of help," (M/N) said kindly, his smile brightening a bit before his face went blank, "Oh god, she stayed late yesterday."
"Who stayed late yesterday? Do you think this person may have killed the man?" Lucifer asked quickly, slamming his hands on the counter, "This man deserves to have justice."
"Yeah, I think they may have... Delilah was so angry all day yesterday," (M/N) murmured with a remorseful tone and he frowned before crossing his arms once again, "Her number's the first on the list, and she hasn't shown up yet." (M/N) let out a long, sad with a hint of fright sigh and let himself slouch over his counter after frowning tightly, "I can't believe that she might've done this..."
"Well, we're still not completely certain about whether or not she did kill him, but we'll make sure to let you know if any leads come up at all," The detective, now known as Detective Decker by (M/N), assured him with a gentle smile that made (M/N) feel just a bit better. "Do you think you might need any protection from her? I doubt she'll find out you gave information, but would you like Lucifer to stay with you, just to be safe?"
"Excuse me, detective-"
"I mean, sure, I guess. Dying doesn't sound like fun right now," (M/N) chuckled wearily and looked up at Lucifer with a smile, forgetting all about the previous conversation, "Can you stay, if you don't mind?"
Lucifer gave a look to the detective and sighed before exasperatedly sighing a 'fine' and walked over to the bar section of the coffee shop, sitting down at the seat closest to where (M/N) was standing. At least he might be able to find out why (M/N) was also immune to his charms, was he maybe sent from his dad as well? Wouldn't be surprised.
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"Oh my god, this fucker. He's stealing all of my customers," (M/N) grumbled underneath his breath, a frown crawling its way onto his lips without him noticing as he glowered at the night-club owner - something the smaller male had found out by one of his regulars sighing in a lovestruck fashion earlier - who had several ladies and men surrounding him with them pawing at his expensive suit. 'God, how could they stand that? Even if he was attractive, who could stand the smell of alcoholic breath and the feeling of that many others pressing against you? Ugh.' (M/N) shivered at the thought of even coming close to the man again, contradicting his next actions. The coffee shop owner advanced over to Lucifer with his eye practically twitching as he grabbed the front of his collar and dragged the devil into the kitchen.
"Oh? Getting jealous now, are we?" Lucifer commented playfully and let his hand come up to (M/N)'s chin, tilting the frustrated male's face up to get a better look at the cute male's face. Clearly, Lucifer wasn't expecting his hand to be smacked away by the originally sweet guy that his partner interviewed earlier.
"What the hell do you think you're doing with my customers? You're ruining my business today!" (M/N) accused before rubbing his temple while holding his elbow across his stomach, "It's not like it's already gone down today because of that poor guy's murder..."
"Listen, I'm sorry I took away your business. It's not like I can turn this off," Lucifer motioned to his own body with a mock sigh, before pulling something out of his inside breast pocket, "Here, take this, it'll pay for all I took away." He then proceeded to hand over - more than what (M/N) could count on his hands - hundred dollar bills.
"Jesus christ, man, I don't need this, just stop stealing my customer's attention away," (M/N) muttered with a light blush on his face, flustered at both the fact that Lucifer had that much money on him and also that he was trying to give him that much. He pushed the dollars away and backed up casually with a little sigh, lightly scratching at the inside end of his left eyebrow - a tell that Lucifer had picked up when the younger male didn't know what to say, which happened quite a bit in the last few hours - before speaking again, "Seriously, if anything, just convince all those guys and gals, and whoever else to buy someth-"
While Lucifer had been looking down to put the money back reluctantly, he heard (M/N)'s nice voice cut off with a gasp. Quickly, he looked up and saw who he assumed to be Delilah - coming to that conclusion through the sight of the woman holding a box cutter to (M/N)'s neck. Lucifer promptly came up with something to say, but was caught in his throat when he saw that (M/N) had started to bleed and he looked like he was about to start hyperventilating. Why did Lucifer feel so... weird? Lucifer shook off the thoughts. As soon as he could get the words out of his lodged throat, Lucifer spoke with his usual playful tone, but it was clear that he was a bit nervous, "Delilah I presume? I would like it if you released my friend here, he means quite a bit to me. "
"What the fuck? Are you insane dude? He," Delilah pressed the blade further against (M/N)'s throat, more blood slowly spilling out, causing said male to choke out quietly in fear, "Is trying to turn me in!"
"Yes, I know that, but how did you figure that out?" Lucifer pressed on, slyly letting his hand slip back into his pocket as he started walking slowly towards the two humans. He held down on the upper volume button, getting his phone to go to the first speed dial contact, the Detective.
"Lucifer please..." (M/N) pleaded as a whisper, tears coming to his eyes from the pain and the fright of possibly dying.
"Well it was kinda easy, I had a partner," Delilah admitted - what was she, an amateur? - with a confident smirk, "You know, the janitor never says anything, so it was even easier to persuade the guy to put his prints all over the weapon and get him to not say anything about me today. But you know," She let up the pressure of the blade a little bit, "If you hadn't interviewed all the employees, you would have been able to avoid this situation. And you guys won't be able to report that, because you'll both be dead-"
"Lucifer?" The Detective's voice ran through the phone loudly, causing Delilah to loosen her grip on the box cutter even more and then (M/N) slammed his elbow against his ex-employee's stomach before running away, hiding behind a counter of the kitchen without a single thought.
Lucifer smirked widely to himself at the sight of the killer right in front of him, afraid, in pain. Oh yes, he was going to make it worse. He hung up the phone after he had the incriminating evidence against the woman before stalking forward to her, not flinching as she swiped the box cutter up at his stomach once he leaned down. The blade fractured and the pieces flew to the side. The fear in Delilah's eyes increased as Lucifer's reached down and grabbed the woman by her throat, raising her so that her whole body was off the ground. "Now don't you see what you've made me do? I have to punish you now, not only for murder, but trying to hurt him," Lucifer pointed over to the general area where (M/N) sat with his face in his arms that were crossed over his knees brought to his chest, shaking.
"Lucifer, stop!" The Detective. Again, ruining his fun. He groaned internally and dropped the woman a little carelessly, looking over at Chloe as she spoke again, "We need to talk about this stuff after all this settles down." Then, she cuffed the woman, who couldn't even speak at the moment. "Help him, he wouldn't budge when I told him to leave."
"Yes, that's because he was almost killed just a few moments ago," Lucifer sighed promptly with a quick fix of his collar and his cuffs before heading over to (M/N)'s curled up form behind one of the kitchen counters with a huff. Once the detective pulled the woman away and evacuated the coffee shop, Lucifer slowly sat down next to (M/N)'s shaking form and pressed their shoulders together lightly. He let his legs extend and leaned against the back of the counter. "Are you alright?" Lucifer asked in a low tone, his British accent thick through every word as he pulled out his flask. Underneath the "facade" of caring - he didn't, of course - about the male sitting next to him, Lucifer was trying to uncover exactly why the young guy was immune to his desire charm.
"I'm fine," (M/N) spoke shakily, his shoulders almost vibrating as he trembled, his voice coming out muffled against his clothed arms. He looked up at Lucifer, a wary smile lifting the corners of his quivering lips. There was blood still dripping from his wound lightly, the new drops of blood gliding over the dried fluid on his adam's apple. "I can't stop thinking about how she could do this though, and I, I almost died," (M/N) muttered, becoming almost inaudible at the end of his sentence, letting his head fall forward against his arms once again.
"Here, I know the detective is going to bring you in to give a full statement, so I won't get to talk to you much more," Lucifer replied in a secluded, seductive voice, keeping the topic off of (M/N) having to relive his trauma, and gave (M/N) a business card with his number on it.
(M/N) took the small thick piece of cardstock silently and eyed the odd gold swirls surrounding Lucifer's contact information underneath the word "Lux," tracing the shiny wisps of aurous ink with the pad of his index finger. "Thanks, for what you did back there. I really, well, I don't know how to repay you," (M/N) said in a gentle voice before slowly making his way to a standing stature, smudging the blood in an effort to wipe it away, before he sparingly grasped onto the counter with a tremor in his hand.
"Well, you could come back to-"
"Lucifer, stop harassing him. Mr. (L/N), would you please come with me? You'll need to make a full statement at the precinct if you're ready," Detective Decker appeared by the entrance of the kitchen and held out her hand, seeing how shaken-up (M/N) was. Thankfully, the young adult took the caring sleuth's hand after giving Lucifer a quick hug, keeping his head down afterwards to hide the pink tinge on his (skin tone) as he followed Detective Decker to the precinct.
Once (M/N) gave his statement to the police officer with a shaky voice and a scared aura, he was escorted home by the detective. After arriving back at the "Coffee's for Closers Coffee Shop," (M/N) gave Chloe - he had learned her name along the drive back to his place - a long hug and thanked her for everything that she did to help him. She then left the young man to his home above the shop with a salutation of goodbye.
(M/N) sighed as he made his way up the stairs to his floor, slipping into his room once he had locked the door leading to his flat. He rubbed a shaky hand down his face to try and get rid of the stress of the day, subconsciously knowing that it wouldn't do anything to calm himself down. (M/N) shook his head, shuffling over to his dresser, and pulled out a pair of flannel pajama pants - planning to leave his shirt off since he knew how hot it got during the night with his heat working double-time in the late fall and all throughout winter.
Quickly, he changed into the pants and threw the leftover clothes from the day into his hamper that was located in his open closet - he had taken down the doors after getting tired of having to open them everyday. (M/N) laid down on his bed slowly and rubbed his eyes. He began to try and sleep once he had plugged his phone in for the night and set the Lux business card on his nightstand. But...
(M/N) could hear everything.
That really put a wrench in his plan to sleep.
He could hear the drunk people in the streets, the crickets chirping right outside, the light wind against his window, and all of the sounds of Los Angeles.
After a good forty minutes of trying to sleep, (M/N) sighed frustratedly and ran his hand down his face for the second time that evening. He couldn't rest like this, he had to... "Agh, what the fuck is wrong with me?" (M/N) questioned quietly before he reached over to his nightstand, grabbing his phone and the business card belonging to the man who had saved him today.
(M/N) dialed the number on the card.
"Lucifer?"