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Lucifer wasn't lying when he said texting you only made him more and more anxious to get back home. He didn't mean for it to happen, it's just-- he expected you to be angry, or at least a little annoyed by his sudden change of plans. He would've been. But instead, he got you jokingly saying you'll guard his dinner with your life, because you want to hear his thoughts on it.
He supposes he shouldn't be shocked, especially not since your return from the human world. While he and his brothers reverted to being sharp and argumentive, your loneliness stripped away some of your shyness. Made you needier and much less concerned with being demure about it.
Lucifer would find it charming, if it weren't heartbreaking to see you so scared of losing them again. He knows your sweet-talk is tinged with a desperation to stay right here, with Lucifer and his brothers, all together in the Devildom.
This is your home, after all.
Lucifer had realized that only after you had gone back to the human realm, but he wonders if you knew before. If there was a specific moment, or a gradual realization of "this is where I belong". Maybe it was a combination of both.
Whatever it was, he's thankful for it. Thankful that you return his feelings and want to be here.
Which. Is a strange thing for him to admit, even to himself. The list of people/demons/ beings that Lucifer actually gives a shit about is very short. Even shorter if you consider his brothers a given.
To think that a "lowly" little human could so thoroughly enamor him.
He smiles as he makes his way to the kitchen, not bothering to change out of his uniform. It's not that he doesn't trust your word, it's that he knows Beel.
You do too, if the sticky note he finds on the carefully tin-foiled plate is anything to go by.
The shiny gold sharpie (a gift from Mammon) on dark purple paper says, "BEEL- DO NOT EAT THIS" followed by "LUCIFER- hope you enjoy 💛"
He tucks the note into his breast pocket, and doesn't even bother with heating up his dinner. He just wants to sleep.
But he did promise to tell you his thoughts on your cooking.
In general, human food is a lot less showy than demonic cuisine. There's little to no magic, and while you joke about humans and demons both enjoying "a little poison", the mildly poisonous things you eat are nothing compared to say, Belphie's favorite drink.
Still, being simpler isn't a bad thing. Lucifer likes your homey cooking. Likes how you not-so-casually go out of your way to figure out his and his brothers favorites and rotate through them.
Lucifer makes a few mental notes on what you did well and what you could improve on as he sets his dishes in the sink (it's Levi's turn). He'll tell you tomorrow morning, maybe later if his brothers are being… his brothers.
It's a wonder in and of itself that his brothers have allowed him to eat in peace, he thinks, making his way to his room. He can hear Mammon and Levi arguing about a game in Levi's room as he passes, and Asmo is blasting music that's more befitting of The Fall behind his closed door. The others are quiet, either sleeping or studying, he figures.
Your room was quiet too, and humans do need a lot more sleep than demons. While going two or three days without might make him cranky, it makes you nigh incoherent and overly emotional. It still makes him uncomfortable to recall the aftermath of your exams, when Beel offering you dessert had you bursting into tears. You had looked so-- so heartbroken, rambling about how much you love Beel and love it in the Devildom and how that's scary.
Lucifer still doesn't understand what you meant by that, but…
But at least he doesn't have to worry about you not sleeping.
Because. You're in his bed.
Lucifer's hands freeze mid-tie removal, eyes locked on your sleeping form. You're curled up, clutching one of his pillows. Only one of your legs is covered with the blanket, and he wonders if you're cold. Those (hideous cow print) sleep shorts Belphie got for you aren't exactly warm, but Lucifer knows you love them.
And he knows you love them. You love him and his brothers and that's more than Lucifer could ever ask.
It takes every ounce of self control he has to not immediately jump into bed with you, his uniform be damned. But he's a gentledemon. A noble.
He keeps you in his peripheral as he changes into his sleep clothes as efficiently as possible. Really, he should shower, but you're here.
And what kind of demon would he be if he kept you waiting?
Especially when the sound of the dresser drawer closing has you flinching awake, pulling yourself into a ball to protect yourself from the "threat".
(At one time, he might've found it funny how much you flinch, but now it just hurts.)
Lucifer resists the urge to rush to your side, aware that startling you further isn't the best idea.
You peak at him over the pillow, and he can see it, the moment you recognize him, because the fear disappears. The tension slips from your shoulders, and you uncoil. "Luci!"
He laughs. "Hello."
"Did you like your dinner?" You ask excitedly.
"Not as much as I enjoy finding you in my bed." He admits, shamelessly.
"Awww." You say, a hazy blue glow settling around your shoulders. You're proud, although Lucifer can't pin down why. Proud of yourself? Proud to have made him happy?
Before he can puzzle it out, you hold your arms out. A tempting invitation if he's ever seen one.
Rather than laying down, he sits and leans against the headboard. "Did you mean to fall asleep?" He asks while you crawl into his lap.
"Not really. I was reading while I waited but…" You make a vague hand motion towards the nightstand. "I can only absorb so much in a day."
Ah. You've talked about that before, how frustrating it can be to dive into demonic literature in search of a break from your classes, only to find even more things you need to research in order to understand the book.
"What book is it?"
You shrug. "Something Satan recommended. It's got murder and-- oh hey, I wanted to ask why aren't y'all like-- you're nobles, right?"
Lucifer raises his eyebrows. "We are."
"So. In the book, and from what I remember of Diavolo's birthday party, there's like. Noble politics, right? Why aren't you guys involved in that?"
Well. That's a complicated subject. "I thought you were done with learning for today?" He prompts.
"Learning more about my loved ones is different." You say plainly.
Lucifer still doesn't know how you do that, say love so easily. But that's something he can marvel at later.
"It's… lack of interest, mostly." He wants to shrug, but doing so would disrupt you. "The seven of us are strong enough that we needn't bother, and even if we weren't, I have been Diavolo's right hand so long…"
You tilt your face up, asking, "Do you… feel free to tell me to shut up here, but do you ever… regret that decision? Your deal with Diavolo?"
"Not for a second." He answers immediately. "Meeting you--" falling in love with you-- "has only made it clearer I made the right decision." He's made the wrong decision many times since then, as much as he loathes to admit it. But the deal was good.
"Even when Diavolo piles on the work and I'm a total pain in the ass?" You joke.
Lucifer has a thousand different sappy things on the tip of his tongue about how you're so worth it, even when he comes home exhausted and bitchy, even when you poke and prod and make him talk about his feelings, even though you're human and thinking about how fragile you are makes him so, so worried.
"Even then."