Chapter Text
Though he didn't really owe it to any one of these damned Sinners, Lucifer always tried to keep a certain level of professional courtesy when being forced to attend whatever soiree the other royals and the “elite” of Hell invited him to.
At least when he could be bothered to attend.
He often forgot about the others, honestly. Even with frequent reminders from his own dwindling staff and the more annoyingly persistent social climbers among the crowd, he still found faces blurring and the names and titles he might have known once upon a time slipping from his mental grasp in the years since Lilith’s departure from his life. The Hellborn themselves weren't all terrible, unlike some of the human dregs that were confined in his ring. In fact, now that he'd spent more time with Charlie and her new friends, he was seeing that some of the Sinners weren't even as bad as the others they'd been lumped in with.
The same could not be said of the Overlords. Least of all, the one that currently clung to his daughter like a pestilent barnacle to the rudder of a ship. Should that infestation not be swiftly scrubbed away, he worried that it would steer her in unfortunate directions, or, more pressingly, sew even deeper rents into their relationship or possibly even harm her in the future. Since taking a more significant stake in her life and her passion project, the ruler had found himself impatiently waiting during these last months for the right opportunity to present itself, the perfect excuse to expunge that pest from their lives.
But it had never come.
Instead he was flabbergasted, appalled even, at his own growing… respect? Ugh, worse- fondness, for that showoff. Their daily repartee had gone from his own outright threats and the, frankly, chilling barbs from their resident cannibal- to a nearly casual, increasingly domestic spark of verbal flint that curled through them like a cozy glow that neither would acknowledge.
Alastor had started as an unfortunate side effect of reconnecting with Charlie, but now it seemed as if he spent more time working alongside him than seeing his darling girl.
Lucifer had tried his best to research the other man, purely for self-preservation and protecting Charlie, of course! But there had been shockingly little besides whatever that pompous little shit had probably fed to the rumor mill himself. There was such a significant lack of information on such a well-known and apparently storied Sinner that Lucifer had actually grown suspicious. One didn't maintain such infamy in Hell without some dirt slipping into someone’s database.
But no, try as he might, with even his influence, Lucifer couldn't dredge up any dirt on the nearly century-long presence known as The Radio Demon beyond the hearsay that pointed out the obvious: ‘highly dangerous’ and ‘avoid at all costs’. Like everything else significant about him had been deliberately scrubbed, even from the ever-expanding, antiquated physical files in the royal records on incoming souls.
It was maddening.
Just like everything else about him.
Every time he thought he had somewhat of a read on the guy, some new depth or surprising kernel of insight would keep the king on the tips of his hooves. The more he learned, good or ill, Lucifer was finding himself craving more than just answers, drawn in by the mystery.
One thing he had been told at the beginning, but he had summarily dismissed, soon became a thorn in his side. The radio demon had his own title, of sorts, and this meant he also garnered a certain level of respect among his peers- for whatever that was worth. It had occurred to him too late that this meant the demon could join them at some of the Pride events the Morningstars were often invited to.
Lucifer had not recalled meeting the man before, but after Lilith had taken over most of the fraternizing years ago and after their… estrangement… her reclusive husband hadn't exactly been paying attention to whoever made up the ranks of those self-important human souls that thought bloodthirstiness was a desirable skill to put on a résumé. He had a vague recollection of Lilith mentioning an interesting upstart that had taken out some of her favorites a few decades back, but had no notion of meeting the culprit himself when presented with him all those tedious months ago.
So when a set of invitations came for some grand ball or other to celebrate Lord Yadda-Yadda’s engagement to Lady Couldn't-Care-Less, Charlie had graciously thought to personally deliver the invite that fool had received to the little high society event, hoping he would accompany them along with her lovely girlfriend. To make matters worse, she baffled her father by saying that Alastor could go as Lucifer’s plus one. Unfortunately, in spite of her father's pleading... or, well, against his advice, she had worked herself up into a fervor over a “double date!” and had gone to show the demon the post and ask his opinion on attending before her father's protests could sink in. Alastor, though initially surprised at the suggestion, had seen Lucifer coming in, hot on his daughter’s heels and very obviously panicked, and had given the king a glinting leer over the top of Charlie's head that made leaden weights sink into his stomach as that vulpine smile proceeded to expose an impossible number of subtly glowing fangs. To Lucifer's immense shock, he'd declared that it was a wonderful idea, and wouldn't they all look so smart together as representatives of the Hotel.
The next few days of vocal warfare had ensued, with the demon taking every opportunity to remind everyone that he'd been asked to be the king's date by his daughter because “the poor dear mustn't have had the gumption to do it himself…” Lucifer, of course, vehemently denied their inevitable attendance together as being a date, but this only caused Alastor to start laying faux pleasantries and then, Father above, outright flirtations, on with even more gusto.
Lucifer supposed it was amusing to see an ancient getting so worked up; the man seemed to thrive on the presumption that he held power over someone if he could coolly make them sweat. But the difference in strength between them was far greater than Alastor even assumed. Forget witty David and fumbling Goliath, Lucifer was an eons-old, nearly limitless being, while Alastor was merely a whelp grasping at soul contracts and the tenuous might they granted him.
No sling, no stones- he had nothing within his reach that could bring the King to his knees.
That either of them could have predicted, at least.
These were, after all, not the first forays into flirting between the two of them. A jab here,a testing lunge there, they had feinted, parried, and scored against each other like giddy fencers accruing points for months now. None of it had meant much to either of them at the start, just another way to try and get under each other's skin, and to entertainingly pass the time in Alastor's case.
Even Lucifer, venerable and experienced as he was, could be seen smiling as wickedly as a schoolboy when he could manage to make the buttoned-up Radio Demon flush and leave the room within a flourish of shadows. Their dynamic had dangerously swayed between outright antagonistic barbs and salacious quips bordering on hedonistic, and most of the other residents had a bet going that they would get caught someday roughing each other up in a much different way.
Vaggie and Charlie had tried to quash the friendly gambling out of principle- redemption and all that jazz- but they secretly joked in their room that they would all be in-laws in the future, as odd as it was for them to imagine.
So as it stood, the two demons got in a few last minute jibes in the back of the royal limo, whetting already sharp tongues against each other as the girls failed to pep talk their hotel sponsors for the night out.
“DAD-!” Charlie finally yelled over the bickering men, drawing both of their shocked expressions, “Dad, Al, I know you have your differences, but please try to not fight in front of everyone tonight? We're meant to represent the hotel, and I don't want anyone to think there's bad blood.”
“Of course, my dear,” Alastor said, leaning across to place a hand over Charlie's on her knee, where she seemed surprised to find it clenched into a trembling fist, “No need to be so nervous, sweetheart. We'll handle this together, as a family.”
She smiled gratefully at her business partner, and Lucifer groaned and failed to hide an eyeroll from Vaggie, who gave the older angel a significant glare.
“Ugh, fine…” he petulantly growled, turning to glower at Alastor next to him, “I'll conveniently forget everything up until now if you'll behave… and not make some kind of scene… or any of us the butt of your shitty jokes!”
He saw Alastor's grin widen with every tacked on stipulation, “Anything else?”
“Do not call me your ‘date’ in there,” Lucifer hissed, pushing a white-gloved finger into Alastor's face, “you of all people should know what those vultures would do with that kind of gossip.”
Alastor sighed in dramatic resignation, “And here I had so hoped to be gambled about as your arm candy! One has only so many chances to be the belle of the ball!”
“Alastor, that would be the Lady who's engagement party we're attending?” Vaggie helpfully pointed out, smiling wryly, “I don't think she'd appreciate the king and his date stealing the show.”
Lucifer groaned again, “Not you too!”
Alastor jubilantly patted Vaggie on the head with his free hand, careful not to disturb her meticulously styled hair as he smiled at the couple across from them, “That's my girls!”
Lucifer felt trapped in a strange, living nightmare as all three laughed at his horrified face. Somehow, his own daughter had not only been swindled by this two-bit, crossroads deal-maker, but even her sensible, angelic partner, whom he had thought had been his ally against Alastor up until now, was openly joking with them about that scruffy monster joining the family?!
Father, help him.
They arrived without incident, making their way to the line of well-wishers waiting to meet the couple and be announced to the attendees, quietly handing over their invitations and being ushered along by the staff without anyone seeming to realize who they were yet.
The scintillating lights above mimicked the twinkling cosmos on a moonless night, filtering down onto the crowd like falling stars through the crystalline lattice of the arching glasswork above their heads.
Lucifer hadn't been to this particular royal's home before, but he found himself appreciating their sense of using grandiose architecture to full effect and rather wished that he could explore the structure without so many people around. Charlie and Vaggie seemed just as impressed, and he shot a furtive glance at Alastor when he didn't say anything.
The radio demon merely allowed his eyes to roam over the view with the same assessing gaze that kept whatever his true feelings were concealed behind one of his secretive smiles.
The queue for introductions framed the ballroom on its upper floors, balconies winding around the structure to allow for maximum effect before one reached the grand staircase leading to the dance floor below. As the rich and powerful waited for their turn to be greeted by the hosts and announced to their peers. It allowed plenty of time for the guests to take in their surroundings and see who had already arrived, but Lucifer's mind was adrift as he looked at the faux starlight- inevitably thinking of the fall of a different star.
Just as his mood began to dip, he was jostled by the radio demon to his left.
"Watch those pointy elbows of yours, will ya?" Lucifer growled under his breath.
"Oh, forgive me, your majesty…” Alastor drawled, sounding completely unrepentant, "I sometimes forget they're right at your eye level. Heaven forbid I skewer one, as tasty as that sounds, haha!"
The bastard's filtered snicker was accompanied by a crowd of laughing people from his microphone, and Lucifer rolled his eyes, about to fire back when a voice behind them exclaimed, "It is Lucifer! I told you it had to be the Morningstars!"
Lucifer groaned as whispers raced up the line, feeling the sudden need to shrink in on himself as everyone turned to look at them. He hadn't attended one of these in quite a while himself, let alone with Charlie, and he had hoped that the change of attire would have concealed their presence for a little longer.
Charlie had taken it upon herself to find them all formal outfits that she and Maggie set about styling, so that their little group wouldn't step on any toes wearing Lucifer's royal white to a bride's party, not that white was any more virtuous down here, but “it was the thought that counted” she’d said.
He was sure it was just an excuse to get the men out of their comfort zone and dress them up, but he did think the velvety burgundy of the suit they’d found for him looked rather stylish, and he had even taken the royal circlet from his top hat and encouraged that golden snake to twine through his hair before it settled into his bright locks more discreetly. The gleaming spikes poked through his swept back bangs subtly, and Charlie had claimed that it was a “very good look” for him, which he would be thinking of for quite a while he was sure.
Alastor had been as enthusiastic about the pastel pink tuxedo they had found for him as a new hole in the head, and had muttered in a disgruntled way over it for several minutes before adding thin white pinstripes and a matching deep crimson vest and bow tie before finally sighing and calling it acceptable. Lucifer was definitely not fighting a losing battle of keeping his eyes off the other man. It was only interesting to see him out of that ratty coat. It wasn't that the modern suit was much more form-fitting! Heavens…
Vaggie kept fiddling nervously with the soft lavender material of her dress, the A-line skirt much longer than she was used to. She quietly mentioned to Charlie that it was almost as if the men had switched styles for the night. Her girlfriend's blush pink tux was of a style with Alastor’s before he'd altered it, and she had topped her own hair with the ebony tiara she rarely wore outside of formal occasions. They agreed in hushed whispers that the adjustments to his attire had only made it look like Lucifer's favorite vest. But the men hadn't seemed to notice.
Despite being a well-known face in Hell, it seemed as if none of the party guests had been prepared to see him outside of his normal royal vestments, so now that they had been pointed out, the group was hurriedly ushered to the front of the line- many of the lower echelons gawking at them when they passed. Charlie kept assuring the security staff that they didn't need to have any sort of special treatment while they were led to their hosts to be introduced, but they were repeatedly assured that it was a huge oversight that the Morningstars had to wait at all.
Alastor seemed practically gleeful at this turn of events, chuckling to himself whenever Lucifer tried to hide his eyes with a hand to his brow and teasing him for being shy.
“I am not shy, I just don't like all these eyes on me,” he snarled quietly.
“While I can honestly relate about prying eyes, my good man, it won't do to let your public see you so discomposed,” he chided affectionately, patting the former angel on the shoulder a hair's breadth from one of his hidden wing joints. The proximity to such a sensitive area nearly made him shiver, but he quashed the feeling and tried to focus on the glare he shot the redhead.
Alastor's hair was pulled back into small, criss-crossing braids, his maid having woven thin gold ribbons into them and attached several delicate, draping chains that connected across the back of his head- sparkling amongst the silky scarlet. It must have been intended to match Lucifer's own crown in a way, and he couldn't help but think it suited the sinner rather well as his eyes were drawn repeatedly to the sight. It also made him feel like he was, once again, the victim of some grand scheme by the entire hotel to set the two of them up. No matter how fetching Alastor looked, he couldn't allow himself to fall for their mischief.
To Lucifer's shock, Alastor was the most suave he had ever seen him. Flattering their hosts with observations about their good taste in decor, greeting dignitaries that approached them in the ballroom by polite, full titles when Lucifer floundered for their names, and even helping a young, feathered royal stand when she accidentally bumped into the back of the king's leg and fell, beginning to sob apologies out in sheer fright when she realized who she'd run into.
“Now, now my dear. Our generous ruler wouldn't harm a quill on your head unless you did something truly heinous! Heaven forbid you scuff his boots!” he cried with deliberate drama.
The girl giggled, not knowing of course that Alastor had, in fact, deliberately started a fight a few weeks prior by scuffing the patent from Lucifer's favorite pair by stomping his foot like a spoiled child.
To his horror, Lucifer found himself grinning at this display, and his gaze caught on Charlie watching him with such a warm, knowing smile that he immediately cleared his throat to cover his discomfort.
The Goetia child and radio demon looked at him, and he swept a low bow, a small bundle of flowers popping from the end of one coat sleeve with a crimson and gold flurry of sparks.
“Forgive me for accidentally knocking you down, little lady! Please take these as a token of my apology,” he intoned, hoping he would come off as contrite and not sarcastic as her eyes widened.
She wonderingly took the spray, tiny buds blooming before her eyes with a shimmer of golden power.
“Th- thank you, your majesty!” she piped, quiet voice full of awe as she glanced between them, “You too, Mr. Sinner!”
She bowed her way back to a tall Goetia woman who was watching the child like the hawk she shared her plumage with, showing her the gift. When both gave formal curtsies, the mother obviously using it as an opportunity to have her daughter put etiquette lessons to work, Lucifer noticed Alastor's face soften before he offered a little wave of his own.
When they had gotten far enough away, the angel bumped his side lightly with one shoulder and smiled up at him, the Overlord huffing indignantly and rolling his eyes, a whispered “...showman…” falling from his quirking lips.
It almost sounded like a term of endearment.
Inevitably, as Alastor was in attendance, some of his colleagues felt it necessary to drop by to greet him and be introduced to the royalty he was escorting.
Charlie seem to be familiar with the cannibal Hellborn that Lucifer had met on several occasions- Posy he imagined her name was- and he himself had been well-acquainted with Zestial and the Carmine woman, as the royal family had had several dealings with them in the past centuries that were mutually beneficial. Those three were at least civil with him, unlike certain radio demons.
But despite having seen the man on many occasions from a distance or advertising the media he commanded on billboards and screens scattered throughout his realm, Lucifer had yet to formally meet the celebrity that commanded the majority of the modern airwaves.
So when a growl of frustration and garbled radio feedback beside him made him look up from the champagne flute he had been nursing, Lucifer raised his brows at the increasing rigidity in the deer's already stiff posture and followed the dark look Alastor was casting toward a sinner who approached their little party with a wide, if malicious, grin.
"Alastooorrr," the instantly recognizable television personality crooned at the hostile Overlord, "fancy you dusting the cobwebs out of your antlers for once and showing up at a party with the in-crowd!"
"Vox.” Alastor greeted tightly, "Fancy you stepping out of that abhorrent Tower... You don't have any hair to let down, but I see you don't have any damage from taking a well-deserved fall…"
“The only falling I'll do is for your lovely companion," he said, turning his brightening smile to Lucifer and laying the charm on thick, “Never had the pleasure of meeting you in person, your majesty, but my-! Your beauty doesn’t come across even half as much in photographs! Folks around here call me Vox,” he bent at the waist, bowing but not dipping his head. Instead, he kept his gaze locked on Lucifer's before giving him a cheeky wink that drew a derisive scoff from the king’s side, “but you can call me anytime…”
“I hope you'll forgive my forwardness,” he continued, standing once more as Lucifer reeled from the flattering onslaught, “but as Alastor has squandered the opportunity to dance with you, I was hoping you would consider joining me for a turn about the floor?”
Lucifer blinked in actual astonishment, it had been ages since one of these fool sinners had actually tried to make any moves on him at an event, let alone ask him to dance. Alastor had toed the line with their antagonistic back and forth in that impromptu duet when they'd first met, but he wouldn't exactly call that dancing- more like a couple of vipers twisting around each other as they tried to seize the limelight of Charlie's regard- something that continued to this day.
Alastor took an aggressive step forward as if to protest, ever the contrarian, and seemed taken aback by his own action for a moment when he realized his hand had reached out and nearly grabbed Lucifer's arm at the elbow.
Both Lucifer and Vox caught the movement, even as that hasty hand quickly fell back to his side, and the angel was surprised to find a matching grin of impish delight on the other Overlord's screen at Alastor’s obvious discomfort.
“I think I just might take you up on that,” he said finally, smirking at Alastor's glare and turning back to the television demon. He waved away his champagne with a subtle glow of magic and held out his freed hand, “Shall we?”
Oh, he's a marvelous dancer… Lucifer admitted internally, the taller man somehow put him through his paces in spite of the small orchestra on the marble dais against the far windows playing a slow waltz.
He tried not to roam his hands over the silky material the sinner was wearing, enjoying the fine threads and finer view. This sinner was one of the few guests who had opted to wear something outside the basic formal garb, his notched black lapels the only solid color. Subtly embroidered damask covered his violet-blue suit, the pattern woven upon the coat and pants in alternating colored threads, ranging from amethyst and cobalt, to an indigo a few shades darker than the material itself. The effect was sublime, and he had to applaud whatever seamstress had crafted it. His only accessories were two chains of white gold attached from some item in an inner pocket to his tie pin, which seemed to be the same V with a surrounding signal that he used for his branding stamped in white and yellow gold outline.
Not too little, not too much.
Vox smiled under his attention, and Lucifer realized he was staring. Mercy, he had a broad chest.
"I couldn't help but notice that our dear Alastor is awfully put out that I came to dance with you," Vox said casually, and, when next Lucifer was turned to face the corner where he'd left Charlie and their group, he was able to take in the full extent of Alastor's ire.
Surprisingly, Vox was right.
Alastor, though he gamely appeared to be keeping up with whatever conversation Charlie and Vaggie were having with his cannibal friend, kept glaring in their direction. The darkness that grew at his back only accentuated how his ears had pinned back farther with every glance. Lucifer was baffled.
Was he…? Could he actually-
"There's no way-" he said under his breath, making Vox chuckle.
"Al has always strived to be a bit of an enigma," the television demon said, smile broad and charming when the king looked up at him, "We've known each other for years and I still can't tell if the man actually likes me or just has fun messing with me."
"You too?" Lucifer blurted, drawing another laugh. He cleared his throat, glad that his dance partner didn't mind his distraction from their… whatever. This flirty sinner obviously wanted something, but far be it from him to give up a chance to shit talk Alastor, “I can't imagine years of this, that asshole already drives me insane daily."
Vox shrugged, "We were closer in the past, but priorities got in the way, so I'm not the one being subjected to the daily need for entertainment anymore. My apologies for unwittingly passing that torch, your majesty."
Lucifer heard the underlying wistfulness in this statement and studied what he could see of Vox's face from that angle. Oh... here was a kindred spirit, still longing for a love lost. No wonder he had immediately tried to separate the two of them, he must have thought Lucifer was Alastor's new favorite.
"Whatever you think, Mr. Socks-" Vox smirked, and Lucifer guessed he'd gotten the name wrong, "that pea-brain and I aren't- we're not-" he struggled to even voice that idea, “I'm only here for Charlie. She called him my plus one even though he had his own invite, so, of course, he's been hamming it up all week to mess with me. That's it."
Vox raised an eyebrow and slowed their movements, leaning over him in a way that had Lucifer's blood pumping despite himself. Curse his predilection for liking the tall ones...
"Sire, I'm not a complete fool. I know him well enough to get that whatever you two have going is still in its infancy- No matter what you may think," he said quickly, cutting off Lucifer's inevitable protestation, "but since I know Alastor, I'm familiar with how he operates. He's a hunter, despite his appearance, and he lives for the thrill of the chase… and taunting whatever prey he has his eyes on. You, sir, are the latest victim of his eternal quest to alleviate boredom. But he sometimes slips up and invests a little too much feeling into someone he actually cares for..."
Vox trailed off, raising his brows in implication, and Lucifer choked out a laugh.
"You can't be serious- he doesn't care about anyo-" he stopped himself in mid-protest.
He had seen Alastor care.
That Flimsy woman when they first met, greeted with obvious affection. His daughter and her partner, the maid- hell, even the gruff bartender that he had under contract. He teased that guy nearly as much as Lucifer himself, but seemed to actually like him. He'd been rather forthright in caring for the Hotel and its residents, even when no one was directly making him. The Overlord may have some secret agenda, and Lucifer was still sussing that all out, but his day to day actions outside of the outlying monstrous tendencies were all... rather telling if he had to be honest.
"Ol' Al can be a bit of a bleeding heart when he thinks no one's looking," Vox said warmly, allowing a bit of his own affection for the man to slip through, "he hates anyone catching him in the act or calling him out on it, but he can be pretty genuine if no one gives him shit about it."
"Sounds like you've got a bit of a soft spot yourself," Lucifer goaded, and was happy that this tease came across correctly, as Vox's answering grin was conspiratorial.
"I suppose I don't have anything to hide... he's known my feelings for decades. We're supposedly enemies, I could even call him an old rival, but he'd never deign to consider me equal enough for that title, I guess..." he grimaced, his claws tightening a bit on the small of Lucifer's back, "Al's had his fair share of cheap shots, but he's never actually killed me. Mostly just likes to keep up 'the game' and flirts just to fuck with me."
Lucifer grunted, feeling for the sinner. It was rough seeing someone you loved look down on you, especially one that was so intimately familiar. It led to all sorts of doubt and could domino into nearly every aspect of one's life.
"I assume that you didn't ask your king to dance just to commiserate over that asshole?" he joked, trying to salvage the mood.
"My apologies!" Vox looked abashed, his screen brightening with a light flush that... okay… was kind of cute, "I wanted to offer a proposal in relation to all of that."
Lucifer didn't really notice when the song flowed into another, the men continuing to dance as other couples left for refreshments or joined while they conversed. Vox steered them even farther away from Lucifer's party, hoping to avoid Alastor's superior hearing with the expanse of the crowd between them.
The blond did, however, raise a suspicious brow, "I don't often make direct deals with sinners… It's a messy business and I have a pretty high price tag-"
Vox smiled, shaking his flat head in a side to side wave, "Nothing so formal, just a little scheme to get one over on Al..."
"Oho? You have my attention, V."
Vox, pleased that Lucifer had at least remembered that much, began his pitch with the eagerness of a sneaky child, "Obviously, one surefire way to get under his skin is to act like you've got something over on him. He hates being made to feel less-than, unnecessary, or out of the loop, and half the time he spends trying to poke at people's insecurities it's to draw attention away from his own."
Lucifer nodded and Vox continued, “I've been around nearly as long as him, most of which time we were pretty tight, so I know every little detail about him that the paranoid asshole had me expunge for him years ago.”
“So it was doctored…” Lucifer said under his breath. Vox smiled, eyebrows waggling, and Lucifer had the suspicion that his internet history had been noted. He straightened his shoulders, “Your saying you want us to, what? Start a fanclub and tease him with old gossip?”
The TV snorted, which seemed to blow air from the vents on the back of his head, “He wishes… Not exactly, but I figured I could offer some insight, and we could get a little friendlier ourselves…”
Fuck. Okay, it had been a long time for him. Lucifer was sure that was a perfectly good excuse for why this guy's hot ass voice was sending a thrill down his spine whenever it hit that deeper pitch.
“Al would hate if we got chummy, and he'd have to wonder what all I was telling you, and what new info you'd be sharing with me, even if we’re just shooting the shit.”
The claws of his right hand were clasped at Lucifer's upper back, and they stroked lightly through the fabric over his spine, just between the wing joints. He spoke of friendship, but Lucifer's mind was awhirl with thoughts of talons and fangs and merciful holy host, why did both media demons have to be hot!?
“It sounds like… like you and I should talk more when we have some time…” Lucifer smirked, trying to hide his actual, more carnal interest under the approximation of a casual grin.
“Well, if you’re up for it, we could always exchange contacts and I’ll fill you in on some more juicy details… then you could commiserate with a sympathetic ear,” Vox said, voice a quiet purr. Even though the words were centered around gossiping about their mutual pain in the ass, the tone made a low heat skitter down his spine and he nearly shivered in the man’s hold. Something must have shown on his face, as Vox’s digital eyes became hooded, his grin smug as he continued, “and I’m sure it would be beneficial in… other ways…”
Lucifer was certain there was a blotchy gold to his cheeks now, and he couldn’t even blame alcohol because he’d barely touched his drink. Father above, were all the new Overlords this bold lately? He already had to put up with Alastor’s sass, now this one was trying to- what? Sext him??
He swallowed thickly despite himself, and Vox’s grin pulled up at one corner. He didn’t know how a man with a screen for a face managed to exude such dark sensuality, but he felt like he had somehow misstepped in their dance and was spinning dizzily regardless of the continued slowness of the tempo. He felt hot, and his hand tightened on the small of the larger man’s back.
“I’m sure it would be…” he managed finally, forcing the words out in what was definitely a regal, worthy tone. It definitely was not breathy or flustered. No sir.
Vox chuckled and spun him under one arm before pulling the smaller demon tight against him as the song ended, Lucifer’s back pressed to his waist as they faced the direction of the quietly fuming radio demon, eye visibly twitching as Vox leaned over to whisper hotly into his dance partner's ear, “I guess I better get outta here before Al rips my head off again…”
Again?
He pulled away slowly, letting his claws lightly coast over Lucifer’s chest before standing fully upright. The king shivered for real then, and when he turned to look at Vox the smug grin was back.
“I’ll hit you up later tonight to chat or just send you a meme I guess, feel free to send whatever you like whenever, Lucifer…” he purred, and the devil found he rather liked the way his name sounded in that silky voice.
“Don’t you need my number for that?” he said, eyebrow raised, even though he was sure the sneaky media titan had his ways.
“I got every number I’ll ever need right up here,” he said, confirming Lucifer’s suspicions as he nonchalantly tapped the side of his head, “but uh, here-”
He flicked an index finger and a spark shot off of it, flying around the smaller man and hitting him right in the back pocket, where his phone had been tucked away. Lucifer’s back stiffened when the lightest tingle of extraneous discharge hit him right near his tailbone, and now he was certain his face was flushed.
A familiar snarl came from behind him as a shadow fell over the ruler, and when he turned to check he found he had to look farther up than he was anticipating. Alastor hadn’t transformed fully, but his limbs and fangs had lengthened, sclera black and irises aglow.
“You have a lot of nerve to attack our king in such a manner…” his static-ridden voice growled.
Vox looked entirely too pleased with himself, even though Alastor was obviously on the verge of violence.
“Aw, c’mon Al, I was just givin’ Luci my number… No need to get jealous!” Alastor’s stuttered record scratch sound effect was followed by a painful crack of bone, his neck extending at an odd angle as he loomed over the television demon. Vox still appeared nonplussed at the display, luscious purr still insinuating his ulterior motives, “You could always have your turn with either or both of us whenever you want, I’m sure he’d love if you joined in~”
Lucifer was shocked at how ballsy this guy was, Alastor may not have been a threat to Lucifer, but he could at least see the danger he posed. Before this escalated any further, Lucifer decided to run interference.
“He’s right, Al…” he said, the nickname feeling odd to use after months of using unflattering terms for him instead. It immediately caught the feral deer’s attention, and he nearly snorted at Alastor’s shocked eyes snapping to him, askance at the connotations while Lucifer breezily barreled along without realizing just what he’d implied, “I’m sure we can work this all out if you’d calm down a sec. Remember you promised not to cause a scene.”
Alastor continued to stare at him with the banked malice of a stymied predator for several moments before sighing, air rushing out of him in time to the fluid descent back into his normal shape. He straightened his coat with a frustrated huff and a snap of green magic to repair the stretched seams, leveling Lucifer with a cool, guarded expression when he was put together again.
“I must admit I am ever so interested to hear why you’d need or want this carpetbagger’s telephone number, my king…” his disdain dripped from every word like slick vitriol, and Vox’s amused grin did nothing to improve his frosty expression, biting out, “and why I should I humor your salacious comments, Vox. Surely you don’t think I should deign to put up with them any further?”
“Why not? Lucifer seemed to enjoy them…” Vox needled, and Alastor did not seem to appreciate his audacious familiarity one bit, baring his fangs as Vox continued, “How ‘bout the length of a dance?”
He held out a hand, blue claws crackling brightly with electricity for a moment before it settled again. Vox's smile relaxed, becoming disarmingly warm and Alastor's tight posture finally eased a bit after he studied his face.
The deer sighed again, “Oh, very well…”
Alastor took the other Overlord’s hand like he was humoring the most egregious request, but he quickly assumed the leading role as if they had done the same routine many times. Lucifer supposed they had, if Vox was to be believed.
He followed them with his eyes, feeling a bit silly for standing in the middle of the dance floor where he’d been left. Hurrying to a more sparsely populated area along the fringe, the king was about to recall the wine from where he’d dismissed it when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.
Expecting it to be Charlie texting him to come back to their side of the floor, he was surprised to see a call from Vox. He looked up in confusion and saw the two media demons still dancing together, the quicker tempo of the folk dance that was playing allowing them to show off their skills and familiarity with their partner. The royal was sure it wasn’t proper to be on his phone at a formal party, but he figured, of anyone, he could probably get away with it; answering the call without a word.
Sure enough, Vox had called him to allow Lucifer to listen in on their conversation. This guy was already scoring big in his books.
Vox’s smooth voice directly in his ear was even more potent than when he’d whispered close to his head, “-don’t own the man, Alastor. What’s to stop him from making new friends? Not like you’ve been friendly with him. Or are you saying there was more going on there than just the same old flirty bickering you’ve always done with me?”
“I don’t flirt, you insufferable picture box.”
“Bullshit, Vox simpered, “You’re the reigning fuckin’ King of Coquette, you professional tease. It’s about time you own up to it, or you’ll let us both slip through your fingers.”
Lucifer saw Al stiffen in Vox’s arms, swinging the taller demon a little more harshly around and locking eyes with the monarch across the floor.
“I see… and I suppose Lucifer is on the line as well?” he whispered suspiciously. Vox must have grinned at him in answer, since he snorted derisively, “Of course. Well, as you're both so keen to have me, I suppose I can rise to the occasion, provided you’re well aware of the consequences of your request…”
Lucifer wanted to protest his innocence, but Vox immediately growled an eager, “Fuck yes…”
Alastor glanced at him and he stood stock-still, riveted to the spot. His eyes widened at the evil, downright sexy smirk sent his way. Lucifer thanked every divine grace there was that his wings were hidden right then, as he was sure they would have fluffed up tellingly.
Maybe… Maybe Charlie and the other guests were right. Maybe there was some merit to their beliefs that they would end up- Aw fuck, who was he kidding. He was down bad for the big bad. And now there were two of them?
Alastor chuckled and leaned into his dance partner, his static-roughened voice only for the three of them, “Let’s see if the two of you are enough to handle me.”
Lucifer was going to have to thank Vox later.