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Chapter Text

Alastor straightened his waistcoat with a little tug beneath his pristine blazer, and with a final  adjustment to his bowtie, he stepped back to admire the image. A silhouette of composure, of elegance. With a twirl of his cane and a flourish of his coat, he stepped out of his room into the weakly lit hallways. 

He had a single intention in mind, to gather his morning coffee and sit on the balcony while interfering with the passing souls. And he was just in time for the morning rush. Alastor hummed a soft, jazzy tune to himself, surveying the sunlight filtering through the new windows, spilling onto the red carpets and pinstriped wallpaper. 

It was far too early for the other residents of the Hotel to be awake, though he was intentionally avoiding their rather caustic personalities. Especially the chipper voice of his co-hotelier and her newly-acquired father. A little sneer crossed his face. The addition of Lucifer to the roster of hotel residents was even further reason to remain in his little corner of the establishment. How can such a small man be so grating? 

He wandered towards the newly-renovated lobby with his cane tucked behind his back, picking down the stairway. As his hand rested on the bannisters, an etching glittered in the finely wrought gold. Upon closer inspection, they were tiny apples, gaudy and cartoonish. The lobby suddenly lost its charm, despite having very little to begin with. Honestly, Alastor had to fight an eyeroll. 

With part of his morning already ruined, he pressed the door of the kitchen only to be met with a clatter of utensils on the countertop. Alastor fought a twitch at the jarring noise, even further disturbed when he caught sight of who exactly was being so disturbing at the early hour.

The short man pottered around the kitchen, humming something so dreadfully out of tune that Alastor could not discern the melody. Lucifer scrubbed a hand through his pale blond hair, his fluffy white nightgown pooling around his elbows. He tapped his duck slipper clad feet to an indiscernible tune while stirring a mug of coffee with far too much vigour. He spun dramatically to face Alastor, jolting and nearly spilling his drink over the tiles. 

“OH! Shit…” The man startled violently, a lock of hair drooping into his face. He clutched his chest and breathed out, placing the mug onto the countertop with a jarring thud. Alastor fought the urge to pick it up and throw it out of the open window. “Good morning, your highness.” Alastor greeted, injecting as much false enthusiasm into his voice as possible “It is quite the surprise to find company this early in the morning”

“Alastor! Ha! I was not expecting anyone at -” He fumbled around his words, voice still slightly sleep slurred. “Whatever the time is.” Alastor tutted, saccharine sympathy filling his voice. “But of course, my dear. We can't expect the king of hell to remember that the world does not revolve around his schedule. There is usually no need for you to remember the time.” 

Lucifer twitched at his pointed remark. “No need to be concerned about schedules at this time in the morning, but I’ll have you know that my lovely daughter is planning to make breakfast with me.”  A rich, false laugh spilled from his lips, eyes narrowing at Alastor as he took a sip from his coffee. So fiercely protective of his daughter, yet so absent, he thought cruelly. 

“So if you would not mind, I would like to do some father-daughter bonding with her.” The man tilted his chin to the door, fluttering his dainty hands towards Alastor as though dismissing him. The utter cheek. Alastor bristled.  “It is rather rude of you to chase other residents out of the kitchen, your highness. Did you forget it is a communal space?” 

“Come up with some new material.” Lucifer suggested sweetly, taking a sip from his cup emblazoned with the phrase ‘Oh Duck’. “And if you wouldn’t mind, please do what you came here to do and get on with your day since you are so conscious of your schedule.” 

Alastor decided malicious compliance was the best course of action. 

At an agonising pace, he pulled out his favourite mug, spooning out exactly one teaspoon of sugar and heating a saucer of milk at the lowest temperature possible. “Would you hurry up?” Lucifer snapped, hand gripped tightly around his mug. Alastor simply hummed, ignoring the seething ball of fluff somewhere behind him, and switching on the coffee machine with deliberate care.  

Lucifer huffed, placing his mug down with a thump and stomping over to where Alastor stood waiting for his coffee to finish straining. The small man grasped at his shoulder, tugging at his blazer as though in an attempt to spin him around. Alastor froze in place, turning slowly to stare down at the fuming King of Hell. “Let go.” he warned, voice coming out distorted and scratchy. 

A tense atmosphere crackled through the kitchen, static rising to a grating squeal that skittered across the walls. Lucifer shuddered, and beneath his building anger, it only added to Alastors amusement. A sing-song voice broke the straining noise, sweet and far too energetic as Charlie danced into the room and bounded towards her father. 

“Dad!” She cried out, beaming happily as she wrapped her arms around the small man’s waist in a tight hug. The height difference was truly laughable. ‘Hello darling!” Lucifer was pulled out of his shock, instead greeting Charlie with an abrasively jovial tone, face melting from animosity to pure adoration. “It is so good to see you! I was just telling Alastor about our activity!” 

‘Really?” She nearly squealed, hands rising to cup her cheeks. “I am SO glad you two are getting on! I know it's really hard when you don’t know each other but still!” She babbled on, Alastor drowning out her voice as she continued to ramble.  Her hands fluttered around her, gesticulating wildly as she excitedly motions between himself and Lucifer. 

“But anyways, Alastor! Would you like to join our activity?” Alastor stilled, eyes meandering to a shocked Lucifer. “I know it was supposed to just be dad and I, but since you are here, you can help us make breakfast!.” Ah. How unexpected. A barely hidden grimace melted onto Lucifer's face, but an insistent look lit up his eyes. 

Alastor paused, weighing his options. He had the option of leaving, but that would leave a disappointed princess and a very angry father. And while Alastor did not fear Lucifer’s wrath, he certainly did not want Charlies. Things had just gotten rather intriguing at the hotel, and despite everything, he had grown fond of his co-hotelier. Much like the affection he held for Nifty, Charlie had cemented herself rather stubbornly in Alastors heart. 

‘That would be lovely, my dear.’ Alastor finally said, placing a paternal hand on her shoulder. Lucifer tensed, gaze fixed on Alastor’s hand as though he wished to throw it off. He tore his eyes away, instead clasping his daughter's hand in his own with an earnest warmth. “That sounds wonderful Char-Char! How about you direct us?” 

“Okay!” She stated, pulling away from the two men to bustle towards the fridge and clumsily pull out several ingredients. She rolled up her sleeves with flourish, flexing her fingers with a rather endearingly determined attitude. “Let's do this.” All charming seriousness and insistent yet exceedingly polite orders. 

Lucifer met Alastor’s eyes with a grim determination. A mutual agreement passed between the two of them. Alastor’s compliance for Charlie’s happiness and in return, Alastor’s compliance for his entertainment. Lucifer extended a hand towards him as though striking a deal, a challenge sharp in his eyes. Alastor rose to it, taking the small hand into his own and shaking it firmly. A smirk sat plastered across his lips.

This was all going to be terribly entertaining. 

Chapter Text

It was a late evening, the lounge washed with dim golden light from the chandelier. The congregation of hotel residents sat comfortably in the communal area, each little group falling into a bubble of quiet. They were talking among themselves but did not wish to disrupt the peace. Alastor found it strangely pleasant to watch them all over the edge of his newspaper, taking in each resident with a blooming fondness forming within him. 

Alastor was sitting comfortably in an armchair, legs crossed and blazer folded neatly over the armrest. He was significantly dressed down in a waistcoat with his sleeves rolled up, but the atmosphere was one that suited it. He allowed the newspaper to splay across his lap, pages crinkling softly underneath his gloved fingers. 

He observed as Angel Dust and Husk talked quietly at the bar, feelings hidden behind drinks and secretive smiles. Angel appeared to be recounting a story or the events of his day, multiple pairs of hands animated as Husk delicately poured a pale pink liquid into a glass. Husk placed a carefully made cocktail in front of Angel, which the spider sipped before making a pleased sound. Husk watched his expressions closely, sharp eyes softening at the man that sat contently before him. 

Cherri watched on with knowing eyes, meandering over to stand next to Angel. With a playful nudge to his shoulder, she poured herself a drink before departing to sit on one of the cushy chairs on the other side of the room. She would occasionally glance up from her phone to watch as her best friend conversed with the bartender, face melting into a soft smile. 

Just across the low table, Charlie and Vaggie sat cuddled up on the couch, throw pillows littered around them like confetti. Charlie was spreading out a colourfully annotated… plan? in front of them and explaining it with a hushed but breathlessly excited voice. Vaggie simply looked on fondly, leaning into her girlfriend's side as her eyes slid from the paper to the profile of Charlie’s face. 

Alastor was broken from his rumination with the sight of Nifty scuttling around the room, popping up in front of him with a manic little grin. There was the corpse of some unfortunate bug skewered onto the tip of her large needle, still twitching weakly. “Look what you have there.” Alastor commented mildly, inspecting it like it was a dead bird a very proud cat was showing off to its owner. He gently petted her on the head. 

Nifty giggled, poking at its legs with a frenzied fascination. “I think I got the mother bug.” she whispered conspiratorially. “Very good job, dear. The rest are sure to flee for their lives.” With such a little terror running after them, Alastor was sure they would. “I’m gonna go find them” Nifty giggled, running off to find something else to impale. “I am sure you will.” Alastor murmured, eyes returning to the newspaper in front of him. He fluffed out the sheets and adjusted his monocle, finally settling in. 

Only to be interrupted by the clamorous voice of Lucifer as he strode into the room, hands resting on his waist with an exuberant confidence. He too was dressed down, hair falling in waves around his face. Not too far from the image of him standing in the kitchen a few morning’s ago.

“So this is where everyone is!” He exclaimed, walking with vigour towards Charlie and Vaggie sitting on the couch. “Charlie! Maggie!” He greeted, plopping down next to them unceremoniously and nearly disrupting the two girls’ balance. “It’s Vaggie.” He heard them both murmur, clearly not heard by Lucifer. “Hi Dad.” Charlie greeted, enthused tone wilting. 

“So what is everyone doing?” Lucifer asked, tone buoyant and far too chipper for the comfortably quiet mood. Alastor felt his body physically recoil at the volume and he fought the urge to stand up and silence the man himself. “Well…” Charlie started, significantly softer. Poor girl, Alastor thought to himself. “Dad, we are all just relaxing! I’m going over some ideas with Vaggie, Alastor is reading the news and Cherri, Angel and Husk are having a drink.” She gestured to the residents who were all now watching their conversation.

Charlie gave a little wave to Angel, gaze quickly returning to her father. “If you want, you can bring something to do and come sit with us?” Lucifer perked up, if that was even possible. “You got it Char-Char! I’ll be right back.” He stumbled up, nearly running out of the room with a sense of purpose Alastor could only be cruelly amused by. 

Charlie sighed, collapsing into her girlfriend's side. Vaggie took her hand and stroked the top with steady fingers. “You know, you can just tell him to be quieter.” She mumbled, brushing Charlie’s blonde hair out of her face. “I know, I know.” Charlie said, a hint of desperation creeping into her voice. “I just want him to feel comfortable. And all he wants to do is make me happy.” She smiled, the edge of a grimace just visible. “He’s just trying to be present like he wasn’t before, Vaggie.” 

“But you can still tell him when he doesn’t do things right, love.” Charlie only nodded. The conversation was clearly no longer about the current situation. The clattering of footsteps on stairs could just be heard, and a happy little smile formed on Charlie’s face. “He’ll get there.” She assured, pressing a brief kiss to her girlfriend's cheek. 

Lucifer burst back into the room, arms filled with a variety of activities ranging from a stack of novels to a badminton racket. “So! What does everyone want to do?” He said, dumping the contents of his arms onto an available chair with a clatter. The books fell to the floor, pages splaying open and bending from the force. Alastor could not stop himself from standing this time. With a withering look directed at Lucifer, he scooped the books up and smoothed out the ruffled pages. 

He placed them on the table with a final warning of faint static. At least the man had some inclination to look guilty and mildly nervous. “Dad, we are all just having quiet time at the moment.” Charlie interjected, looking nervously between the two of them before shooting Alastor a thankful smile. “Maybe you could read one of the books you brought?” She said sweetly. “Great idea darling!” Lucifer exclaimed, finally picking up the atmosphere was one that constituted lowering his voice to a less offensive volume. 

Alastor settled back into his chair, opening his newspaper with no hope of actually reading it. He was far too distracted now, much to his disdain. He watched closely as Lucifer scanned the room, eyes suddenly focusing on him. Filled with intent. “Alastor!” He greeted, “What are you getting up to, my fine friend?” 

The king of hell trotted over, picking up a novel as he walked without bothering to look at the title. A devilish little smile had formed on his face. Alastor tracked his approach with flickering eyes and a warning grin. His heart rate spiked as the smaller man circled around his chair out of his line of sight.  

Suddenly, a hand appeared on his shoulder, Lucifer's face coming into his field of vision and filled with false intrigue at the contents of the newspaper. Alastor stiffened under the surprisingly unwavering grip, stilling his body in hope that it would encourage the other man to leave. In the corner of his vision, Lucifer's lips contorted into a pleased smile. “Hm” he hummed, eyes sliding up to his with a general disinterest glazing over something else. He leaned over, turning the page before flicking it back to its original position with a little disdainful huff.

“How dull.” 

Alastor wished to snap his wrist, but Charlie’s eyes were resting on Lucifer's hand with a shocked little smile and he knew he was trapped. ‘One would think the King of Hell would have more interest in the affairs of his people.” Alastor hissed, unable to hold the quip back “One would think the radio demon would not need to read about the extermination if he was already present.” Lucifer replied softly, sing-song voice right by his ear. Alastor’s stomach flipped. Far to close. Close enough that Alastor could feel the displaced air move against his skin. 

His ear twitched, flicking back and causing a fascinated look to bloom on Lucifer's face. The fingers on his shoulder tightened before moving away, lingering behind Alastor's head as though wishing to touch. If they dared to stray near his ears, Alastor would not hesitate to cut the King’s fingers off. They instead tapped a little rhythm against the backrest of the chair. Before he knew it, Lucifer had departed again. Alastor felt the restless energy in him built even further, especially as small man was out of his sight. He felt the urge to strangle something.

Lucifer reappeared by the opposite armchair, sweeping off the recently discarded badminton racket, books and was that… a rubber duck decorated to look like a clown? The King picked up a nondescript novel before practically flopping into the armchair, legs draping over one arm and curling the rest of his torso against the backrest. 

The newspaper crumpled beneath Alastor's fingers, a faint ripping noise cutting through the near silence of the lounge. And then he saw Lucifer, staring directly at him with a triumphant grin as though he knew how agitated he made Alastor. They sat directly opposite each other, stares burning across the swath of air between them. Lucifer clearly considered this to be a game he had won. 

Alastor would not be outdone. And while he certainly was a gentleman, he would not back down from a challenge he would obviously prevail in.

Chapter Text

The windows gaped like open mouths with the lack of light, shadows snatching across the floor to form gangly fingers. A hush had fallen over the hotel, Alastors footsteps the only discernible sound among the faint noises of chaos in hell - a constant drone. Alastor had departed from his radio tower for the night, leaving swaths of paperwork spilling off of the table and onto the floor - some colourful and cartoonish - courtesy of Charlie’s hotel plans. They were some of the only splotches of colour in the dull radio tower

They were all in preparation for his next meeting with his fellow overlords. It would be happening soon, and they all would be hungry for any scrap of information about the success of the hotel. With the recent ascension of Sir Pentious, Alastor was not prepared to answer any of their questions. No one had the answers, least of all him. 

Even Charlie could not produce a comprehensive one, and she had been the one to consult with heaven in the last few weeks. She had been meeting with the seraphims and engaging in diplomatic missions, coming back each time each time a wilted, muted version of herself. So caught up in the heavenly bureaucracy that Vaggie would grip onto her tightly and whisk her away to Charlie’s office, a ferocious but concerned expression painted over her features. 

All Alastor could do when she would return was lead her to the couch in her office and place a cup of steaming tea on her desk. He would sometimes pass her father in the hallways. His arms would be filled with blankets and snacks, almost all of his animosity for Alastor gone. It was replaced with a resigned regret, and all Alastor could do was nod in begrudging acknowledgement and turn away. Lucifer would breath out a sigh, continuing on his path to take care of his daughter. 

Their game, mutually decided, had been paused. A petty relic in the face of Charlie’s despondence. Something to be revisited, but not for now. 

So Alastor needed a drink. Something strong to help him forget in the late hours of the night. Something he knew he would regret the next morning. He moved down to the bar, clad in a white button down and a pair of pinstripe slacks. Dreadfully informal, but he could not bring himself to pull himself together this late at night. 

However, as Alastor came down the stairs, he was met with a hunched figure draped over one of the bar stools. Lucifer, with his sleeves rolled up and a glass of red wine clutched loosely in his hand. The king’s usual perkiness had vanished, replaced with a crestfallen, decidedly fragile looking man. 

Alastor turned to leave, shrinking back into the shadows and deciding a drink was not worth wallowing with an equally exhausted man. “Alastor.” Lucifer called out, voice flat and nearly inaudible. “You can join me if you wish.” Alastor let out an inaudible sigh, tapping the golden balustrade for a moment and then coming down the staircase delicately. Keeping his steps quiet, he perched on one of the further barstools, conscious of Lucifer’s eyes tracking his movements. They met eyes with a levelled stare.

“Was not expecting company this evening.” Lucifer commented mildly, swirling his glass and taking a minute sip. “You requested my company.” Alastor replied tersely, knowing very well that it was an illusion of choice granted to him. Lucifer set down his glass with a light tap against the bar. “I am not playing games now, Alastor. You can stay if you wish, but I will not force it.” 

Alastor paused. It was strange to see Lucifer like this, resigned without a conspiring smile or pure adoration in his eyes. A part of him urged him to stay, to observe and to relieve. The rest screamed at him to run , to retreat to his tower and arise when only necessary. Alastor could not trust the highest ruler of hell, and he certainly did not spend late nights at an abandoned bar with him. The general lack of appearances - Lucifer’s teasing and Alastor's deflection - were gone, abandoned in favour of a tentative truce. Alastor did not like being on uneven footing. 

But Alastor decided that he was not listening to the rational part of himself tonight. He instead wanted to find out more, to dissect the man from collar to navel to study what exact mechanics made this man tick. A new game, one with hidden variables and undiscovered consequences. 

So, he settled more comfortably onto the stool. “Then I shall stay.” He murmured warily.

Lucifer nodded, not meeting his eyes. “Can I pour you anything?” He asked, scanning the contents of the bar. “Bourbon if you please.” Alastor replied lowly, watching closely as Lucifer rose from his seat to run his willowy hands over the rows of bottles. He eventually found it, heavy glass, unadorned and filled with a deep amber liquor. 

Lucifer glanced up, expressive eyes tired but empty of all playfulness they would usually hold. “Over ice?” He asked quietly. Alastor only nodded, steepling his fingers as he tracked the king's work. A muted clatter of glass and ice was oddly comforting. It filled the tense silence with something other than the words that hovered just out of reach. Once done, Lucifer held out a cut crystal tumbler of bourbon, condensation starting to build on the sides and refract the low light of the bar.

‘Thank you.” Alastor murmured guardedly, taking it from the man’s hands, their fingers brushing as he did so. The king’s were slightly damp. Chilly. Alastor retracted his hand quickly, feeling uncomfortably exposed without his gloves. They both politely ignored this as Lucifer came around from the bar, settling back into his seat and picking up his glass as though it were something to anchor him. 

“I must ask you why you are here sulking, your highness.” Alastor queried, his usual mockery mostly subdued. For his efforts, a weak glare was shot at him. “I could ask the same.” Lucifer only replied, barbed but resigned. After a long moment of staring at nothing, he glanced back at Alastor. “I am worried about Charlie.” He begrudgingly confessed.

That was easy to see, thought Alastor. ‘Well of course.” He responded briskly. “She is under a remarkable amount of stress right now.” Lucifer let out a hissed tch , glaring at the floor as though it were personally responsible for his daughter’s despair. “Of course she is! She is dealing with fucking heaven.” he said bitterly. “I don’t think you understand how much stress she is going through right now, Alastor.” He felt a twist of his organs at that offhand comment. He deflected.

“And you do?” Alastor taunted, leaning back with sharp satisfaction to watch something snap at the king. “Of course I do, you prick!” Something manic surfaced in Lucifer’s face, desperate and wretched. A hasty retreat. Something akin to regret settled neatly in Alastor’s throat, constricting it. “Heaven never listens! They didn't listen to me, they are not going to listen to her!”

There were little crystalline tears forming at the corners of Lucifer's eyes, prickling and angry. “I don’t understand.” He said, breathless with no fight left in his words. “Why does she keep you around? Why does she like you?” He slumped, coiling himself inwards. “I am trying so hard to keep her from being thrown away like I was, and all you do is make snippy comments and lurk!”

Lucifer gripped at his shirt, fabric straining beneath the weak grip. “I have to keep her safe! And she is making my same mistake.” 

Alastor set down his drink, resting his hands on his knees. “Pick a side, Lucifer.” He said cruelly, the other man glancing up at him, startled at the biting words. “You are either supporting Charlie and her endeavours or you are not.” Lucifer let out a low snarl, shaking his head angry as though trying to banish the forming tears by sheer will. 

“Supporting her is driving her to a state of exhaustion. She cannot carry on like this!” 

“Then we catch her when she falls.” Alastor bit out, a flare of anger lighting up his chest.

“You don’t even believe in this hotel's purpose, you absolute jackass.” Lucifer shot weakly. “I’d argue that neither do you.” Alastor countered. Lucifer let out a long breath, tears starting to stream down his pale cheeks. “I just want to be there for her. I will not have a repeat of the last seven years.” Lucifer took in a deep, calming breath. 

“Being there for her requires your investment in the hotel’s purpose.” Alastor said crisply, crossing his legs and swirling his drink. The clink of ice was no longer a comfortable distraction. It now set them both on edge. “Then I’d argue you should do the same.” Lucifer said seriously, desperate energy gone and wiping away the tears with an annoyed hand. “I don’t know why you are so involved in Charlie’s life, Alastor, but if you are going to be part of it, it requires your investment too.” 

"You cannot tell me how to parent my child and only show up for her when it suits you." Lucifer said tiredly.

Alastor stilled, lungs tightening. He cared for Charlie. And while his initial investment in the hotel had been one of entertainment, when he saw her returning from heaven, hopeless and despondent, a paternal urge overtook him. He let out a sight, setting down his bourbon and resting his elbows on the bar. 

He truly had little faith in the purpose of this hotel. He was a pessimist at heart, but perhaps change was possible in some souls. They have already seen evidence of one, yet the criteria for redemption still remains a mystery. Alastor felt a pang in his chest. He had grown fond of the residents, seen their growth and the bonds that came from it. And now he was being asked to decide. To decide whether he was all in or bailing out. This required further thought, he decided. 

He glanced back at Lucifer, who was now slumped over onto the bar. His head rested on his arms and hair spilling around them. His chest rose and fell slowly, tear tracks still visible and shining on his cheeks. His eyes were shut, making the purple smudges beneath them more prominent. Alastor picked up their now empty glasses, circling the bar to tip the melting ice into the sink and place them on the side with careful movements.

Alastor’s eyes fell on Lucifer's discarded overcoat spilling over the bar’s counter, ivory fabric painted silver under the lights. He picked it up with delicate hands, draping it over the shoulders of the sleeping king before him, careful to not touch his back. The moment was a vulnerable one, too exposed and too fragile.

He pulled away before he could regret his actions. What he did not notice was the sleepy blinking of the king, and the fingers that moved to grasp at the lapels of his coat, drawing it in closer. Alastor sighed quietly, padding back up the stairs almost silently. With a final glance at the rumpled heap of the usually energetic king, he paced back to his room, both thoroughly displaced but thoroughly intrigued. 

The game had gotten far more interesting.

Chapter Text

The early evening dripped across the lounge floor, gold details of the room gleaming in the buttery light. A peaceful moment, one of solitude that Alastor had been seeking all day. He had been previously engaged with the overlords’ meeting, their flurry of questions and ravenous eyes causing him to become snappy.

He had bit out a terse greeting to Charlie as he returned, and he would be lying if he pretended he did not regret it. He now could understand how easily her father relented to those wide eyes. No matter, he would send a cup of tea up to her later. For now, he needed to occupy himself. Alastor flicked the remaining restless energy out of his fingers, tightening his grip around his cane as he stepped into the lounge. 

It was blissfully quiet, no resident present to make any raucous noise or interrogate him just as the overlords had done. So Alastor approached their new grand piano -  a magnificent thing, perfectly tuned and ready for use. He lifted the lid with careful hands and propped it up, admiring the treble strings beneath.  

Alastor sat neatly on the stool and surveyed the ivory keys lay expansive before him, twin neat lines not yet well worn or well loved. Alastor tugged off his gloves and ran an experimental hand over the keys, soft notes filling the lounge and trilling pleasantly. 

After a moment of consideration as to what he should play, he settled into a familiar Edith Piaf melody. The early notes came to him naturally, and despite their simplicity, they floated delicately in the thick, comfortable air of the lounge and bounced beautifully off the walls. He hummed along to the early lyrics, static-laced voice melding with the melody.

 “Quand il me prend dans ses bras, Il me parle tout bas, Je vois la vie en rose.”

His voice rose and fell like the tide, humming to lyrics he had forgotten and crackling when the radio frequency stuttered. The keys were cool and pleasant beneath his fingers, the restless energy seeping out and translating into a smooth note. It stilled his wandering thoughts, his frustrations and conflicts. And for a moment, all of that turmoil was gone. 

What he did not hear was the sound of padding footsteps approaching the balcony that looked down into the lounge. He did not notice the elbows rested on the railing and head tilting to take in the delicate melody. Nor did he see the drooping eyes, the little exhale or the fingers tapping along. Alastor did not feel the eyes fixed on him, drinking in every poised movement and trill of fingers. 

And then he heard it, a soft chuckle that could only belong to one person. The distinctive light steps and amused air were Lucifers, characteristics that had become more and more recognisable to Alastor in the last few weeks. What he did not recognise was Lucifer's reason for remaining quiet - for not disturbing his moment of peace like Alastor would not hesitate to do for him. 

Fascinating.

So Alastor did not turn, leaving him with the thrill of retaining his advantage as he continued to pluck out the notes.

 ‘Et dès que je l'aperçois, alors je sens en moi, mon cœur qui bat.”

“Caught your ear, did it?” Alastor asked, breaking away from the lyrics for a moment but not abandoning the song. A little breath could be heard from above him, Lucifer realising his spectating had been caught. For a moment, Alastor was met with an empty silence. A startling disappointment lodged into his chest.

Then he heard those soft steps coming down the staircase, muffled against the carpet and not wishing to disturb. He caught sight of Lucifer in his periphery, bathed in golden light and luminous. The faint noise of static crackled, not seeming to disturb the other man as he settled his weight against the side of the piano. Hip jutted against the side of the piano and hand resting against the edge of the open lip, Lucifer painted a picture with gentle lines.

His wide eyes tracked the plucking keys, hypnotic in their synchronised movement. His gaze then slid to track Alastor’s fingers with a soft interest, mouth moving slightly as he sang along quietly. Alastor could just make out the rich tones of Lucifer’s voice melding with his own. He truly had a lovely voice, Alastor thought mildly. 

 ‘Et dès que je l'aperçois, alors je sens en moi, mon cœur qui bat.”

Alastor sang the flourishing final note, a content feeling washing over him as the last notes came to a close. All to be shattered by quiet clapping coming from Lucifer. A slightly sardonic smile fixed onto his lips, barely covering the soft one Alastor had seen only moments before. “I suppose I should not be surprised that the radio demon is able to sing.” 

‘Nothing like a good performance to set the stage for an evening is there, Lucifer?’ The sarcasm melted away from the other man’s face. “No, there is not.” he murmured, eyes wandering, nervous. “May I join you? And you can say no.” He tacked on a bit hastily. It was clear he recalled their previous encounter at the bar, a golden flush rising to his cheeks as he realised Alastor was remembering the same thing.

“You can stay.” Alastor supplied helpfully in the strained silence, not looking at the man as he felt his heart clench strangely. However, what he was not expecting was a flurry of hands shoo-ing him to the side of the stool and for the other man to sit down next to him. His body stiffened at how close the king sat, not touching, but close enough that Alastor could breath out and be pressed to his side. 

“When did you learn to play?” The king asked, eyes roaming the keys. “A long time ago.” Alastor replied tensely. “When I was still alive.” Only then did the King look at him sharply, unsure how he should respond. Alastor fought a chuckle building in his chest. “Surprised? I’ve been known to tickle the ivories time to time.” The king rolled his eyes at that, but his own smile started to form - startled but genuine. Relaxation began to seep back into Alastor, growing used to the warm presence at his side. He decided it was not deplorable. 

Alastor continued. “There are few things more entertaining than a good song, don't you agree?” 

“Well, of course.” Lucifer replied. “Which other songs do you know?” 

“I know many, my dear, it is simply about choosing one.” Much to Alastor’s confusion, a flush formed on Lucifer's cheeks - golden beneath his pale skin. “Then choose one.” He murmured, not meeting Alastor’s seeking eyes..

Alastor hummed, considering for a moment. “I’m rather fond of this one, it's a little bit after my time, but it is such a thoughtful melody.” 

The first notes were lilting and warm, building into a gentle crescendo and then receding into a near silence as Alastor began the lyrics. 

“We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t known when”

His fingers danced across the keys, low notes melding with the high ones and building a whole, harmonised melody. He glanced down to see Lucifer’s fingers tapping against his knees, moving in time to the consonants of the lyrics. He mirrored Alastor’s voice, and Alastor could not help but feel horribly charmed at the attention to detail. 

“Keep smiling through-” a little chuckle bubbled from Lucifer, startling one out of Alastor “-just like you always do.”

Lucifer did not meet his eyes, instead continuing his tapping with an almost nervous energy. A flash of concern cut through Alastor, but he did not halt his playing.

“But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day. “

A weight settled into his shoulder, warm and light. Ah. Alastor looked down to see swaths of blond hair - Lucifer's head - resting on his shoulder. Alastors voice stuttered, static getting louder. He pressed down the warm, startled flutter. With all focus turning to not fleeing the room, Alastor continued to hum the rest of the song. 

The weight of Lucifer was a constant, comfortable one. Not too intrusive, but a gesture of affection. Tolerable even. That unsettled Alastor, to know that he no longer physically recoiled at Lucifer's touch. He instead wished to sink into it, and he had just been given it freely. 

How unexpected that such a change occurred. 

The final sung notes were high and breathy, piano closing with it with a delicate trill. Nervous energy began to grow in Alastor, hands recoiling from the keys. A soft breath emanated from the small man next to him, settling into the position more comfortably. Alastor tensed. “Until we meet again, my friend” He murmured quietly, rising from his seat without looking to see how Lucifer nearly toppled without the support. 

He strode out of the room quickly, heart in time with his steps as he fled into the shadows. Something was dreadfully wrong.

Chapter Text

Alastor ran a hand through his hair, sweeping it away from his face as he leaned over his desk in his radio tower. Even in the late night, the pride ring buzzed below him, flickering lights and sounds spilling through the red tinted windows. Alongside it, the faint notes of Moonlight Serenade played in the background, calming and jazzy. 

Alastor swayed to it gently, swirling around the space and clutching at the meaningless paperwork in his hands. Yet another one of Charlie’s theories as to how to get into heaven. Little charming drawings decorated the margins, a variety of rainbows and cartoonish flowers all vibrant and bearing the mark of his dedicated co-hotelier. 

As he waltzed around his tower, he paused at the soundboard, buttons and dials gleaming under the wan light. It had been a long time since he had broadcast one of his radio shows. It was nearly a relic of the past, a reminder of his bloody climb to the top. There had been no need for such broadcasts as of late, but the Vee’s were looking ever more appealing. Perhaps sometime when he was feeling less benevolent, Alastor decided.

With a flourish, Alastor placed the papers back onto the desk, deciding he had spent enough time ruminating and should actually get some of his work done. Assisting in compensating for the losses of Cannibal town had been his responsibility due to his friendship with Rosie. Perhaps he should go visit her sometime this week, and perhaps Charlie should send her father to help rebuild the destroyed buildings. 

That father of hers had been a matter of conflict for him for many days now. Alastor could not fight the warring forces whenever he thought of Lucifer. The exuberant, overly enthusiastic king contrasted with a distressed father. An energetic and grating enigma and a quiet, patient man that watched Alastor play piano with a soft smile. Infuriating. 

Alastor had fled from their last encounter, rattled but filled with a strange exhilaration. It was fascinating, the dichotomy.

A knock sounded on his door, rhythmic but faint. Alastor turned with a little shriek of static, startled at the unexpected intrusion. No person had dared to visit his tower throughout the hotel’s entire existence. Clearly someone foolish or desperate had come to visit him in the late hours of the night.

Alastor prowled to the door, yanking it open and fixing his menacing smile on his face.

And there stood Lucifer, rumpled with a nervous smile flickering across his face. Alastor felt all menace slip from him in an instant. “Good evening.” The king greeted, running a hand through his already messy hair. ‘May I come in?” Alastor only nodded, fighting the swirling feeling that started to build in his chest. He stepped back to allow the other man in and closed the door behind him softly.

Lucifer stood awkwardly in the middle of the tower, clutching a coffee mug to his chest. His nails tapped against it rhythmically just as he had done when listening to Alastor sing.

“What can I help you with this evening, your highness?” Alastor asked jovially. “Ah-” Lucifer started, opening and closing his mouth for a moment. “I- um. I brought you this.” He stated, thrusting his arms out and presenting the mug to Alastor. It was his favourite “Oh deer” mug, filled with coffee and milk and steaming slightly. 

Oh

How lovely. Alastor reached for it with tentative hands, taking it carefully so as to not spill it. Lucifer watched carefully, pulling back quickly to prevent the incident at the bar from occurring again. “Thank you, Lucifer.” Alastor said earnestly, sipping from it and finding out with pleasant surprise that it had the right amount of sugar in it. He looked up to see Lucifer's gaze averted, golden blush tinging his cheeks and twisting his fingers. 

“I also wanted to apologise.” Lucifer said gravely. “I am very sorry I-” he let out a huff, frustration evident. “I am sorry I rested my head on you. I didn’t ask to do that.” Lucifer wrapped his hands around his middle as though forcing the strained words out of his abdomen. “And I know you aren’t fond of touch so I just-” 

“I’m just sorry.” he finished with a breath.

With those parting words, Lucifer turned on his heel and started to stride out of the room.

“Lucifer.”

The force in Alastor’s voice was enough for the man to still and turn with a surprised look passing over his face. His mouth turned to a grimace, pointed teeth baring. “Please. I don’t want to draw this out.” He bit out. “I am sorry, but you don’t have to make a fool out of me.” 

“That is not what I am doing.” Alastor said simply. “I left and for that I should apologise.” The radio demon crossed his arms, tapping a finger against his forearm as he tried to come up with an explanation. “It was impulsive of me.” That was all he could muster. 

Lucifer looked at him with disbelieving eyes, but his defensive posture changed into one of distress. “No, Alastor- I pushed your boundaries when I should not have-” Alastor held up a hand, silencing him. “No, Lucifer. You did not push my boundaries.” I would only allow it with you, Alastor’s thoughts supplied. “I was merely caught off guard.” 

With a frustrated huff, Lucifer leaned against Alastors desk and surveyed him with concerned eyes. “Alright then. But I do not want to catch you off guard. ” he crossed his arms in front of his chest, drawing the firm line that he would not budge on this point. Alastor was greatly amused.

 “Then warn me in advance.” He said unostentatiously. This man could be truly dense. Such an obvious solution to a non-problem. 

Lucifer looked up, voice so previously determined now laced with confusion. “What do you mean?” More patiently this time, like explaining a new concept to someone who could not comprehend the idea. “Warn me in advance. Tell me if you are going to touch me.” Alastor started to grow impatient. 

“I’d rather ask you instead of just telling you.” Lucifer said warily, footing unsure in the new territory. It was something fragile and waiting to be formed, a sandgrain yet to become a pearl in the belly of an oyster.

“Fine. Then ask me.”

Lucifer startled slightly. A golden blush bloomed across his face, dipping across his collarbones and tinging the tips of his ears. “What.” He whispered

“Ask me, Lucifer.” Alastor stated, more determined this time. 

Lucifer nodded slightly and  moved across the room with tentative steps, watching him carefully as he stopped where Alastor stood. “Can I take your hand?” He asked shyly, not looking up at Alastor as he did so. 

“You may.”

Lucifer took his larger hand as though it was something to be cherished, his thin fingers contrasting with Alastor’s black and red gloves. He held it loosely, glancing up at Alastor with a determination crossing his face. “Is this alright?” He stated, so much like his daughter as she dedicated herself to a task. It was endearing to see the connection. 

“It is.” Alastor said quietly. And it was, in fact. The warmth was pleasant and grounding. But it was also something sacred: something with so much meaning behind it that it was no longer as simple as taking Rosie’s hand or Charlie’s. It was not like picking Nifty up or hugging Mimsy. It was Lucifer - the infuriating, lovely, witty and dreadfully frustrating Lucifer - asking Alastor for his permission like it was the most important thing to him in the world.

And perhaps it was. 

As he looked back, Lucifer was glancing out of the red-stained windows, looking entirely content to simply hold Alastor’s hand and watch the passing trade beneath them. Alastor watched him instead, golden hair pushed out of his face but messy enough that pieces were starting to fall in his eyes, a creased collared shirt and waistcoat  in that garish pale pink pinstripe and a pair of ruby eyes that slid back to meet his. He was very beautiful, now that Alastor considered it. 

“What.” Lucifer murmured, tilting his head like an inquisitive bird. “You are quite beautiful.” Alastor stated simply. Lucifer’s mouth locked shut, blinking rapidly as that same golden blush rose to his ears. “Hm. Interesting.” Alastor hummed, a pleased laugh spilling from his mouth. 

Lucifer spluttered. “I think I should get going.” Alastor only watched him flounder for a moment with a smile. He then stilled, that same determination taking over again. How delightful. “Can I kiss your hand?” Lucifer asked, seriousness replacing the flustered demeanour. Alastor felt himself stop, a prickling feeling gripping his heart. Lucifer’s thumb traces subconscious circles across Alastor’s hand. 

“You may.” He agreed faintly.

Again, without meeting Alastor’s eyes, Lucifer drew his hand to his lips and placed a featherlight kiss on his knuckles. Chivalrous. Knightly even in how chaste and precious it felt. The contact only lasted a moment, and then he pulled away. Lucifer gazed up at Alastor beneath those blonde eyelashes, wide eyes filled with delighted surprise. He then gently let go and turned to scurry out of the room leaving a hanging feeling of warmth in the air he stood in.

Alastor allowed a shocked laugh to spill from him, covering his mouth with his hand. What a delightful turn of events. It was Alastor’s move in the game, and he certainly did not intend to lose. 

Chapter Text

Lucifer stepped back from the swirling railing of the balcony, the chilled night air caressing his skin with frigid fingers. There was the faint smell of smoke in the wind, though such a thing was not unusual.

What was unusual was the faint notes of cologne that cut through it. Something familiar and classy. 

A presence settled next to Lucifer, tall and imposing and clad in that wonderfully informal waistcoat and those  rolled up sleeves. It had become somewhat of a habit among the two of them to be mildly rumpled every time they saw each other. However, Lucifer could not begrudge it, nor could he fight the sudden increase in his heart rate as he recalled their last moments together. 

Lucifer's lips against those elegant hands, the intrigued and slightly font expression painting Alastor's face. Lucifer had fled, and now he was cornered. 

And then that same hand rested lightly on his lower back, assuring and grounding. Lucifer fought the rising gasp. Alastor had never initiated such contact before. He wanted to settle into the touch, to guard this moment with fierce protectiveness to relish in it for a moment longer. 

He didn’t really know what to do. Should he lean into it? Stay politely away? His hands tightened on the railing, knuckles showing sharply. “My dear, you seem awfully tense.” Alastor observed. Lucifer glanced up to see the other man looking out over the city with pensive eyes. 

“I was not expecting company.” Lucifer muttered, loosening his grip and allowing himself to inch closer to the man next to him. Alastor did the work for him, sliding in closer to allow their sides to brush. It was so gently intimate, so different from their previous sharp arguments or moments of depressed silence. 

“Yet here I am.” Alastor observed mildly, finally glancing down to meet Lucifer's eyes. The broad smile was gone, replaced with one with no teeth, no devious glint. It was private and small. Lucifer felt his stomach twist, uncomfortable and horribly nerve inducing. This was too good to be true. It had to be a ruse, some elaborate plot to make a fool of him. God, how would he have been so idiotic 

And so soon  after he and Alastor had had such a meaningful conversation that night. One filled with vulnerable admissions and Lucifer desperately trying to make sense of what Alastor meant . Did he want Lucifer near him or not? Did he want Lucifer to touch him or not? Alastor had simply told Lucifer to ask if he wanted to touch him, but there had been no discussion of whatever this was. Something brutal gripped at his throat, tightening and prickling. 

“Have you come to mock me, Alastor?” Lucifer asked morosely. His arms found his torso, clutched tight and defensive as though it could shield him from the words he knew would soon come. 

A confused tilt of the other man's head, ears twitching with it.. “Why would I do such a thing?” 

“I don’t know. I am waiting for something to go wrong.” Lucifer bit out, glaring at the floor and trying his hardest to ignore the arm still present at his back. “I am here on my own accord, am I not?” Alastor stated pragmatically. Lucifer fought the urge to wrench himself away from the other man’s side.

“Why are you here, Alastor.” Lucifer said, hearing the confusion and defeat present in his voice. The things this man did to him. He had never met someone who could draw such intensity out of him (aside from Adam), and he adored and resented him for it.

“I am here because our little game has gone unfinished for too long.”

Lucifer felt something in his heart drop. No . Alastor wanted to end this. Their little unspoken arrangement, one forged over late nights over drinks and warm evenings accompanied by music. He could nearly scream with frustration

“Has it.” Lucifer stated bleakly

“It has. In fact, that is my reason for seeking you out. This game ends now on my own terms.” Lucifer felt something inside of him shatter, all confusion stripped away to be replaced with acidic hurt . So much pain. 

“Fine then. This is done. I understand.” he choked out, pulling away from Alastor’s side abruptly and bolting towards the open door. 

“You misunderstand me, Lucifer.” Alastor called out, following with quick steps. Curse that man and his absurdly long legs. “No. I understand perfectly.” He spat out venomously, glancing back to catch a determined look set onto Alastor's face.

And then Alastor caught his wrist gently, tugging him back onto the balcony and into the chilly air. Lucifer, in his state of shock, simply allowed it.

“Then let me rephrase. Would you like us to continue this game?” Alastor stated earnestly. More earnestly than anything Lucifer had ever heard come from him. Lucifer belatedly noticed that Alastor had not yet let go of his wrist, fingers sliding down to capture his own in an assuring grasp.

All hurt bled from his body, so suddenly that he felt he may fall over from the emotional whiplash. Lucifer nods hesitantly. “I would, with you.” 

Lucifer then felt himself pulled into an embrace, secure and strangely soft for such a gangly man. He went willingly, melting into the feeling of long arms wrapping around him: one securely around his waist and the other placed lightly between his shoulder blades. 

He fixed his own arms around Alastor’s waist, fighting the urge to run the other through the man’s hair, to brush those wonderfully soft looking ears. Alastor’s arms retracted slightly, one resting neatly on his waist while the other sat on his shoulder. 

“Lucifer.” Alastor stated, the most nervous Lucifer had ever seen him. It was actually endearing. Lucifer had never seen the demon so… shy before. “May I kiss you?” He asked, voice quiet and unsure. Ever the gentleman, Lucifer thought. “You can.” Lucifer replied, elation springing to life in his chest.

A hand came to rest at his jaw, nails careful against Lucifer’s pale skin. Alastor delicately tilted Lucifer’s chin up, dipping his head to place a neat, chaste kiss against his lips. “ Oh .” Lucifer murmured intelligently. He brought up his hand to rest against the skin, eyes darting to Alastors. 

“Was that alright?” Alastor murmured, face close to Lucifer’s. Without answering, Lucifer stood on the tips of his toes to plant a kiss against Alastor’s lips. Seemingly satiated by that response, the demon felt more comfortable beneath Lucifer’s touch. They both relaxed, happy to bask in their new-found intimacy for that moment. That is until Lucifer ran out of breath. 

“Can I touch your ears?” Lucifer gasped out, pulling away from Alastor for a moment. He froze and then Alastor froze, ears twitching with a slightly panicked look passing over his face. “No no- it’s ok then!.” Lucifer hastily assured, nearly toppling over as he snatched his hands away from Alastor’s back. 

A quiet “You may.” drew Lucifer from his panic, causing him to focus back on a slightly flushed radio demon staring down at him. “Wait really?” Lucifer nearly squeaked, breath vanishing in an instant as though squeezed out of his lungs. Alastor rolled his eyes. “I said that you may.” He confirmed. 

Hesitantly, Lucifer placed his hands on Alastor’s back, sliding his hand up to meet the soft, shorter hairs at the nape of his elegant neck. He brushed it gently with his thumb, venturing higher into the silky hair. He was then met with something velvetine. The ear twitched beneath his touch, Lucifer pausing, glancing up with a question in his eyes to ask permission.

Alastor nodded, not looking at Lucifer as a growing flush coloured his cheeks. Lucifer smoothed over the ear with hesitant hands. They truly were as luxurious as he imagined them to be, smooth but slightly fluffy. He fought the silly grin that threatened to take over his face, but realised he didn’t need to as Alastor placed yet another delicate kiss onto his smiling lips. 

Lucifer grinned into it, ecstatic as Alastor did the same. They remained on that balcony for a long time, content to watch the pulsing city below. Alastor’s hand would find its way back to Lucifer's waist, and Lucifer would lean contently into the taller man’s side. 

A new game had begun.