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Lucifer poked his head into the room. It was dark, the red curtains drawn closed so very little light entered the space.
“Al?” He whispered.
The lump in the bed rolled over, messy red and black hair peeking out of the covers. Glowing red, rheumy eyes opened, looking sleepy and glazed locked on to his own red pupils.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Lucifer gave an awkward half smile, stepping completely into the room.
“What’re you doing here?” Alastor slurs out.
His radio filter was gone, the crackling sound from the sore throat instead of the usual static. The sheets rustle as he slowly sits up.
“Came to see you, it’s probably boring being stuck by yourself.”
Lucifer sat down on the bed next to him, running his gloved claws through Alastor’s hair. It was tangled and sweat-soaked, dampening Lucifer’s silk gloves.
Approximately a day ago, Alastor had come down to the kitchen looking haggard and pale, nose snotty and red. Of course, as soon as Charlie saw him, she shoved him into the bedroom and put him in ‘quarantine’ so to speak. And sure, Lucifer understood his daughter’s actions. She was trying to avoid anyone else getting sick, which was smart. What kind of reputation would they and the hotel have if they started a Hell-wide epidemic? So yeah, he understood perfectly!
Well, he understood until she stopped him from going in.
His fingers attempted to fix the matted mess that was his lover’s hair, but it was kind of pointless. The ill demon pulled away from his touch, waved locks snagging in Lucifer’s claws as he hid in the duvet.
“You shouldn’t be here, I’m gonna get you sick,” Alastor rasped, voice muffled by the sheets.
“It’s fine. Besides, it’s not like anyone will let me out,” Lucifer countered.
“And why is that?”
Alastor’s head peeked back out, and he offered a questioning, albeit exhausted, look.
“Well… I may or may not have, uh, convinced everyone else that I’m sick too…?” He gave a sheepish smile.
“You what?” Alastor coughed out, emitting a wet, rattly noise as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, “Why on earth did you do that?”
“Cause I wanted to see you!” Lucifer shot back, a little exasperated.
“And I mean, it’s not like it was hard, I just,” he waved a hand in front of his face, and a flush and bags to rival Alastor’s appeared on his face, “Alakazam?”
Alastor gave a hoarse groan, flopping back down in irritation. He sniffled, the sound bubbling with thick congestion, before coughing again and scrubbing at his nose. He looked so much like a grumpy child that Lucifer nearly snorted with laughter.
“You’re an idiot,” he huffed, reaching for the bag of cough drops Charlie had shoved under the door, “You likely won’t have to pretend for long, I give it an hour before you’re sick too.”
“Oh please, I’m not the one with the immune system of a Victorian child from the 20th century,” Lucifer elbows him teasingly.
“It’s not my fault that Velvette has no sense of decorum and decided to sneeze in my face,” he sniffled out of indignance and sickness, popping a cough drop into his mouth.
“I know, I know. I doubt I’ll catch this though. Benefits of angelic blood, I don’t get sick much.”
“Still, you’re betting on a chance?” Alastor raised an eyebrow, “I reiterate, quite idiotic.”
“Yeah, but you’re worth getting sick,” Lucifer wrapped his arms around Alastor, their faces mere inches apart.
“You know, you’re making your chances worse by doing… this,” he rasps, gazing at him through half lidded eyes.
“And?” Lucifer was so close that he could feel Al’s warm breath on his skin, “You know you better not sneeze on me.”
“No guarantees,” Alastor sniffs, “It’s your own fault if it happens. Betting health in this particular situation is stupid. I’m surprised you want to engage in such close- contact activities while I’m drowning in my own mucus.”
“Not as gross as when Char-Char wet the bed when she was four and she had been sleeping with me,” He shot back.
Alastor gave a weak chuckle, gazing lazily into the fallen angel's eyes.
“It may be the fever talking, but I’m slightly less irritated than I feel I should be,” Alastor mumbles.
“Oh yeah?” Lucifer leaned closer, their lips so close.
…
Lucifer could taste the flavor of the cherry cough drop when he broke the kiss. He licked his lips, the bittersweet flavor lingering.
“Once again, you’re showing an awful lot of stupidity. How is such an idiot the king of Hell?” Alastor murmurs, sounding a tad bit breathless.
“Please, you haven’t seen stupid yet…”
When Charlie came by that evening to deliver dinner and Alastor’s next dose of medication, she saw the demon and fallen angel cuddled together, both fast asleep. She rolled her eyes at her fathers now normal appearance, devoid of the feverish flush that he had presented earlier.
She had known from the start that he was faking, it was painfully obvious that he had been masking his normal appearance with his shapeshifting. He had seemed almost proud of the fact that he was ‘ill’ too, and had been a bit awkward about it. It was also obvious that he was just trying to get into the room with Alastor after she had explicitly said that no one was to go in and risk it spreading to the rest of the hotel.
She was tempted to be mad. To scold him for risking everyone else's health. But then she thought about how she would act if Vaggie was the sick one. Frankly, she would be the exact same if kept from her angel. Especially if Vaggie was sick like Alastor was, Charlie wouldn’t want to leave her alone.
So in a way, Charlie understood. She couldn’t stay mad, especially with how cute the two of them looked cuddled together.
She left the tray of goodies on the nightstand, sneaking out and flipping the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door and leaving the two demons to sleep.
And besides, Lucifer’s punishment was served when he woke up with a sore throat.