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“You know, sinners aren’t usually allowed to leave the Pride Ring,” Lucifer said.
“Well, I pride myself on being unique,” Alastor said. He looked around at the wooded clearing they were sitting in on the outskirts of Wrath, as far away from any other demons as they were the hotel. His nose scrunched up in distaste at their surroundings. “But I must say, if you’re planning a tour of the other rings, I’m rather underwhelmed. I do appreciate the lack of circus theme but your taste in venues is in desperate need of reconsideration.”
If someone had told Lucifer six months ago that an insult from Alastor would make him laugh, he would have damned them a second time as a liar. These days he knew better, knew that there was a line between sass and serious when it came to his jibes and at any given time, Alastor veered effortlessly between the two.
This was absolutely sass and Lucifer nudged him with a rough elbow, making him lurch to the side of the blanket they were both sitting on. It earned him an equal nudge in return, sending him precariously towards the edge of the blanket and the muddy ground. Normally, Lucifer would let this continue to the natural conclusion of a wrestling match that Alastor couldn’t hope to win but that was a distraction that would ruin his surprise.
He hoped it would be a good one.
Okay, so Alastor wasn’t wrong. The clearing they were in was hardly impressive, not like the bayou tucked away in his hotel room back home. Nothing but a few scrubby trees and weeds surrounded them, their dull brown indistinguishable from the dirt they grew from. But it wasn’t the plant-life they were here to see.
“The venue is about to improve, as soon as it gets dark,” Lucifer told him.
Alastor only laughed and Lucifer pretended the delighted humor in it didn’t warm something equally delighted inside him. “Tramping around in unknown territory in the dark, even better!”
“Hush.” And when Alastor looked like he was going to continue, Lucifer set a hand over his on the blanket. He felt Alastor startle and held his breath, waiting to see if he’d pull away.
They’d been dancing around at something of a middle ground for a little while now, shimmying past rivals and twirling into something suspiciously close to friendship. It was nice, honestly, Lucifer could admit to that. Nice to have a friend at the hotel, someone who wasn’t only spending time with him in the hopes of getting something out of it.
Nice, yes, but. There were times Lucifer thought there was another line on their dance card, a chance to waltz into something else, something more.
Neither of them was bold enough yet to take the first leap; at least for Lucifer it was partly old hurts holding them back and partly fear. Fear of losing what they already had, of breaking their fragile dance of friendship.
This little side quest wasn’t exactly a leap, more like a step or even a skip. It was as much as Lucifer dared to risk and the feel of Alastor’s hand flexed undecidedly beneath his was nervewracking. Another twitch and then his hand went still. Not holding on but not pulling away, that counted for something, right?
Right?
They sat together in comfortable near silence, broken only by very soft music floating around them as dusk turned to twilight.
”Lucifer, my dear,” Alastor said finally, hinting at impatience, “as fascinating as staring at dead tree branches is, are we supposed to be seeing something?”
“Soon…there!” Lucifer whispered furiously, pointing into the bushes, “Did you see it?”
“The only thing I can see in the dark is the glow of your—"
Lucifer never got to hear what was glowing about him, surely a prize of an insult, as Alastor fell silent, leaning forward, ears perked high and his eyes went wide.
A flicker of light came and went in front of them, then another, another, a cacophony of luminance dancing through the air and coming to life in the brush of trees surrounding them.
All music faded away as Alastor watched them in silent awe. “What—" Alastor began, a hushed whisper.
“You can talk, you know,” Lucifer teased. “I know you enjoy striking terror into hearts, but I don’t think they have one.”
Alastor nodded and Lucifer doubted he’d heard a word. He looked, Lucifer thought fondly, as dumbfounded as Niffty when faced with a camera.
“What are they?” Alastor breathed. A light flickered close to them, moving in a drunken line and when Alastor reached out a hand, it landed on his finger, slowly blinking as it inspected its new surroundings.
“Well, they aren’t exactly lightning bugs, being that we’re in Hell and all. Technically, they’re a type of carrion beetle and they’re pretty voracious, they can tear the flesh off a corpse in minutes. But not right now,” he added hurriedly. Not that it mattered, Alastor only looked more enchanted, of course he would. “Right now is mating season and I thought, well, they do look like fireflies and you—" he trailed off, swallowing hard. “You like fireflies.”
And Lucifer liked Alastor, circular logic leading them here.
The small beetle crawled up Alastor’s fingertip into the cup of his palm and upon not finding a mate waiting for it there, lit back into the air while Alastor watched with wide eyes.
“Oh, how lovely,” Alastor said, and the hushed sincerity made Lucifer swallow dryly.
“Lovely,” Lucifer echoed and did not so much as glance at the not-fireflies.
He didn’t mean to tighten his hold on Alastor’s hand. He didn’t mean to twine their fingers together, didn’t mean to grip him gently and hold on. Alastor blinked and turned towards him, his crimson eyes bright in the dimness as he looked down at their joined hands.
”I haven’t seen real fireflies in,” he laughed awkwardly, his hand flexing in Lucifer’s but he didn’t pull away. “I suppose you know when.”
Yeah. He knew.
“I can’t be certain,” Alastor went on, “but I don’t believe there is such a bloodthirsty varietal in the living world.”
“They won’t bother us,” Lucifer repeated. He didn’t look away from Alastor’s face, let his gaze trace the lines. Memorizing the way he looked right now in this quiet moment. “Too busy trying to find company for the night.”
The only movement was the little lights around him and the slow blink of Alastor’s eyes falling half-closed as he said, ”Is that what you’re doing? Trying to find company for the night?”
Oh.
Well, Alastor was always the bold one between the two of them, recklessly putting himself out there. He’d taken that leap, now it was Lucifer’s turn.
He only hoped it didn’t turn out he had two left feet.
“Alastor,” Lucifer said, low. He leaned in slowly, giving him the chance to pull away, to toss up the polite fiction between them again and they could stay friends, they could, and Lucifer would accept that, nursing his small regrets on his own. Only Alastor didn’t move, he didn’t pull away, his breath coming too fast, gusting warm against Lucifer’s mouth in the seconds before he kissed him.
Only a dry brush of lips against each other and then when Alastor didn’t move, a little firmer, coaxing. Until those soft lips parted and Lucifer could seek out the inner warmth between them, tracing those thin lips with the tip of his tongue as Alastor exhaled a shaky sigh.
He pulled away and Alastor made a small sound of protest and tried to follow him, only pausing when Lucifer told him, ”No. Not for the night. Not only a night.”
Crimson eyes held his own, understanding slowly filling them as Alastor cleared his throat and nodded, saying hoarsely, “Understood.” Then he bit his lip, “Again?”
“God, yes,” Lucifer muttered and barely kept himself from lunging forward. He kept their second kiss as gentle as the first, their tongues moving against each other in a dance as old as mankind while one by one the living lights joined each other, flickering in their own dance around them.
-finis-