Work Text:
Lucifer had only been out of his office for five minutes to make himself a cup of coffee. Five minutes. He had been running himself ragged earlier signing document after document in the dead of the night. It was only after he had to disapprove of a proposal to establish a Human Delicacies Club at RAD (as in, delicacies made out of humans, not human-made delicacies) that Lucifer decided to take a short break to clear his head.
When he arrived back at his office with the darkest shadow coffee a demon could make, he was less than pleased to see a certain, mischievous human sitting in his desk chair. You slowly swiveled left and right as you thumbed through all of his important, important papers. Lucifer's pen, his favorite, was stuck casually behind your ear while you hummed a quiet, meaningless tune.
Lucifer scowled. “What do you think you're doing?” He stood near the door, waiting for you to realize your mistake and get up with an imaginary tail between your legs. Obviously, Lucifer had no intention of letting you leave the room entirely. He wanted you to stay and keep him company while he worked. He just didn't want you to barge in and sit in his chair unannounced. As embarrassing as it was to admit out loud, your presence alone was far more rejuvenating than any sort of coffee. Though, he had to instill at least a little discipline before letting you in on such a fact, lest you think that he was rewarding you for such behavior.
At the sound of his voice, you glanced up and smiled momentarily before going back to trifling with all of his forms. “Hey, Lucifer. What’s up?” You plucked a single page from the stack you were holding and set it flat on the desk. Then, you started to fold and crease it while still humming that same, silly song.
One of his eyes twitched as his lips pressed into a thin line. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I could say the same.”
You threw the folded paper into the air, and it soared across the room. You had made a paper airplane out of his documents. The same ones that Diavolo had given him for student council duties. Lucifer scoffed and snatched the paper plane mid-flight. He cringed as whatever document crinkled under his grip with a loud crunch. He quickly unfurled the page, silently hoping that you had the foresight to choose one of his less important papers to turn into your plaything. In swift, messily written ink marks, the text read:
Made you look! ;)
Lucifer looked up to see your smirking face resting smugly on the back of your wrist. He balled up your little note into his fist. With long strides, Lucifer rushed over to his desk. “Get up. I don’t have time to mess around,” his voice was low and threatened to spill venom.
“No.”
He raised his eyebrows in a mocking expression. “No?” he repeated.
“Yeah, you heard me.” You pulled his pen from behind your ear and tapped it against his desk. “It’s late. I’m not getting up.” You grabbed another (blank) page and began doodling random swirls.
Lucifer’s face softened when he realized what you were trying to do. “I have a lot of work for the student council due tomorrow,” his tone was now a gentle whisper, “I’m sorry, but I need to finish tonight.”
You shrugged. “Too bad. You can talk to Diavolo if you want. He’d probably understand. Either way, I’m not moving.” To emphasize your point, you sat back in his chair and hooked your feet behind the legs. You placed the pen back to where it was previously and stuffed your hands underneath your knees.
“I suppose I don’t have a choice, then, do I?” Lucifer curled his lips upward and his eyebrows furled. With a small flourish, Lucifer turned and planted himself squarely in your lap.
You stiffened in response, but Lucifer’s ultimate plan to embarrass you failed. His own cheeks grew hot when your arms began to slowly wrap themselves around his waist. Lucifer’s breath hitched as you squished your cheek in between his shoulder blades.
“What are you waiting for?” He felt his very skin rumble when you let out a tiny laugh. “Go on. Get back to work.”
Lucifer brought his fist up to his mouth to smother a sudden cough. “Yes, yes, of course.” He carefully repositioned himself on your lap, and you were polite enough to scooch the chair closer to his desk. He sipped the cup of coffee before setting it down.
He began to reorganize the, admittedly slight, mess you made of his documents. Lucifer gathered up the two papers you lovingly wrote on and threw them in a random drawer. He would just have to get to that later.
“What’re you drinking?” you asked, peering from around him.
Lucifer answered simply, “Shadow coffee.”
“Can I have a taste?”
He quietly nodded and handed you the mug. Lucifer had to crane his neck to observe the shape of your lips pursed around the rim as you took a sip. He wasn’t sure if you had done it on purpose, but you had chosen to drink from the same place he had. Lucifer recalled how Leviathan had been raving about something called ‘an indirect kiss’ a couple of nights ago during dinner. Like always, he had ignored the idiotic rants from his younger brother, but now…Lucifer wasn’t exactly certain why his heart skipped a beat.
If you disliked the shadow coffee, you didn’t let it show on your face. In fact, your expression remained neutral as you gave the mug back to Lucifer. His chuckle was muffled into the drink as he took another sip (from a different part of the rim). “Did you like it?” He lightly teased. He was more than aware of how bitter he liked his coffee.
“Eh.”
He laughed again as he put the mug away. Afterward, Lucifer grabbed the stack of already signed forms and tapped them against the wood of his desk to straighten them out. Setting them aside, he picked up the first unsigned page from the untouched pile on the left.
Silently holding his hand out, Lucifer waited patiently for you to give him something that was rightfully his. When you tilted your head to the side, he clarified, “The pen. May I have it?”
“Oh, right,” you said. With a flick of your wrist, you grabbed the pen from where it was lodged behind your ear. Instead of giving it to him right away, you chose to twirl it in between your fingers. “Do you remember when I gave you this pen?” You seemed more enthralled with the writing utensil than with the demon you were asking.
Of course, Lucifer did. After all, there was a reason why that pen in particular was his favorite. He could remember the day you had given it to him clearly. You had arrived back at the House of Lamentation from a random shopping trip and entered his office without knocking (not that he ever minded). Lucifer was immediately suspicious of the way you held your hands behind your back, and he knew that you knew that he knew. Still, both of you played the classic song and dance of ‘Guess what’s behind my back!’ and ‘What? What is it?’
You had put an end to that mystery by pulling out a black box topped with a pretty red bow. For the briefest of moments, Lucifer had thought you were going to propose to him. It was a ludicrous assumption, but not even the Avatar of Pride could deny the way his ears burned and exposed him. Despite that small mishap, Lucifer had been barely able to contain himself when he opened the box and revealed the pen within. It wasn’t the gift itself that had sent the feeling of warmth pooling around his chest, but rather the idea that you had gone out of your way to buy something specifically for him.
He had wondered how long it took you to get that pen. Did you mull over specific colors and styles, pondering on the perfect gift for him? Were you anxious about getting him the right type of pen, something that only he would enjoy? While you were shopping, had there ever been a moment where you thought about him and started to unconsciously smile as he did in regard to you every single day?
…Perhaps that last question should be shelved for later.
When you had first given him the pen, Lucifer had hidden it away safely within the confines of one of his desk drawers. He wanted to keep something as special as a gift from you in pristine condition and not waste it on frivolities such as signing random documents. After a few months had gone by, you had inquired about the pen, and Lucifer realized that you would rather have it be put to good use than none at all. It was indeed a practical gift, to be fair. However, he still only used the pen on special occasions or when he was tired and needed the extra emotional support that it had given him.
Lucifer jolted in his seat–your lap–when you pinched one of his sides. Before he could respond with an indignant shout of disapproval, you pointed the pen in his direction. “Aren’t you going to take it or keep staring at me like that?” You wiggled your eyebrows in amusement.
Lacking any sort of retort, he simply took the pen from your hands. He was going to thank you until you pulled him backward with his back fully pressed against your torso. His words died in his throat and what came out was a sputter of nonsense.
He pinched the area of his nose between his eyebrows. “I can’t believe I just made that sound.”
“I can!” You laughed brightly. Your arms lay around his stomach, and it took everything in Lucifer’s power not to turn bright red. Although he didn’t have a mirror, he knew that he already failed from how another string of chuckles bubbled in your throat. “Aw, no need to be so embarrassed, Lucifer. I thought it was cute.”
“Of course, you did,” he sighed. There wasn’t more he could do. He dug his grave, and now he had to lie in it. “Listen, I have to get back to work. I don’t need any more distractions, alright?”
“Okay, but promise that you’ll go to bed after?”
Underneath that impish exterior, you could be quite sweet. “Yes, I promise,” he said. You started to hum again and leaned your body back into the backrest. As a constant reminder of your presence, your arms still hung loosely around his torso.
Lucifer returned his attention back to his mountain of paperwork. As his eyes scanned over the words, he reached the end of the document before realizing that he hadn’t actually comprehended any of the text. Not wanting to reread the paper, Lucifer quickly glanced over the page. Something, something, a proposal for a new fountain in the courtyard? Eh, it wasn’t like RAD needed a new fountain. Lucifer signed his stamp of disapproval and placed the document on the finished pile. He picked up the next document and was determined to actually read it this time. This one was asking for a second kitchen to be added to the cafeteria to support a certain demon’s eating habits. Sure, Lucifer supposed that it was a fine solution to deal with the starving students who had the misfortune of trying to get lunch after Beelzebub had. He signed the document and put it away.
As he was sorting through the rest of his work (with the occasional sip from his coffee), Lucifer found his mind trailing back to the obvious predicament of how he was currently sitting in your lap. He pondered if you were keenly aware of every single one of his movements like he was with yours. At one point, you puffed out a breath of air out of boredom, and Lucifer went into a tizzy from the goosebumps that spread against the back of his neck. Usually, he found your presence to be relaxing, which helped him to focus on his work, but now he was way too focused on you and your lap to even think about anything else.
Surprisingly, Lucifer had managed to dwindle down the large stack on the left by at least half in the hour he had spent sitting in your lap. If he could continue at the same pace, then perhaps he would be able to finish his work before dawn. One of your legs twitched underneath him, and Lucifer knew that he wouldn’t be able to focus anymore. There were far too many…distractions for his taste. His gaze shifted languishingly back to the heap of papers, but it wasn’t like he was truly reading them, anyway.
Sighing, he dropped his pen on his desk and hid his face in his hands. Exhaustion bore heavily against the back of his eyes. If it weren’t for you keeping him on edge the entire time, he probably would have passed out by now.
“What’s wrong?” you asked as he vainly rubbed the sleep out of his eyelids.
Lucifer didn’t answer at first. Instead, he let himself rest for a second before sliding the palms of his hands up and into his hair. He brushed it back, before slightly hunching over. “Perhaps you are correct,” he admitted, referring to what you had said earlier. He grabbed his mug and downed the remaining lukewarm liquid. “I should call it a night.”
He had expected you to boast some witty response or tease him a little, but you just said, “Alright,” and hugged him. Lucifer indulged in his desires and leaned into the comfort of your embrace before standing up. You attempted to follow suit, but your legs started to wobble, which forced you back down. “Sorry, my legs fell asleep. Give me a second.” You started to massage your thighs.
“I can carry you to your room if you would like.”
Still focused on your legs, you stuck your tongue out. “You know that I’d hate that.”
“I know. I was simply joking,” Lucifer responded, but he would have picked you up if you had wanted. Something else was picking at his mind, though. “Say, how would you like to sleep in my room tonight?” Even though you had kept his company for over an hour, Lucifer found himself missing you already. He couldn’t bear to part with you, yet.
“Sure,” you said in such a nonchalant manner that it slightly disappointed him. A part of Lucifer wanted you to respond in a way that he constantly felt on the inside when speaking to you: flustered and ready to combust. You stood up and patted him on the back. “I’d like that very much.”
Your grin put him at ease, and he found himself unconsciously smiling back. As the two of you stepped out of his office, Lucifer couldn’t wait to be back in your arms once more.