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There were but a few things that could annoy Alastor more than the buzzing of the blasted little phone on his nightstand. A necessity, sure, but a rather dreadful one at best. It was hardly good enough to function as an alarm clock when one was rudely awakened at four thirty in the morning, greeted by nothing but a pitch black world surrounding him as he cracked open an eye - much to his own dismay - in hopes to silence the wretched device as his hand sought it out in the darkness.
“What do you want?” His exhaustion was audible as he flipped open the phone and pressed it against his ear, his other hand almost automatically trying to rub the sleep from his eyes, without much result.
“At least you are picking up,” came Hugh’s grumbling voice from the other end. “Boss needs you.”
“Bullshit, not on the roster today,” came Alastor’s disinterested reply, fighting the urge to throw the little device into the darkness and simply let it be swallowed until he would stumble across it again at a less ungodly hour.
“Change of plans.”
“Seeing it is not even five, I assume there is a good reason for this call?”
“That brain of yours finally waking up? Took you some time.”
A low grumble slipped past Alastor’s lips. Annoyance wasn’t exactly the best emotion to wake up with. He’d gladly give Hugh a demonstration of what happened to those who’d thought it was a good thing to rudely wake him from his (mind you, well deserved) slumber.
“Look, I know it is early and all, but you know the drill. If boss wants you here, then you better hurry the fuck up,” Hush continued with an equally exhausted sigh. “Anthony will be at your place in ten.”
The line went dead before Alastor could even form another snarky response, the groan that sounded instead reverberating through his bedroom.
Ten minutes. It took him at least a good four to roll over and find the lightswitch, another two to let his eyes adjust to the sudden bright light snapping to life above him. After pushing a simple, burgundy sweater over his head, Alastor found himself with two minutes to spare to look at the bag that he had thrown onto his table unceremoniously the day before. Opening it he caught a glimpse of the reflection of the light above the kitchen table on the hilt of an unsheathed knife.
He chuckled, that just wouldn’t do. He’d really been in a hurry to get home the day before, had he not? He took the knife from his bag, lifting it up to look at his reflection in the slim blade. He felt a smirk tug at the ends of his lips, dragging his fingers through his unruly curls.
If the boss wanted him present at this ungodly hour, he was going to have to excuse his dishevelled state.
After the doorbell rang for a fifth time, Alastor finally deigned it worthy of a response, pressing the button of the intercom a little too forcefully.
“If you ring the bell one more time, my fine fellow, I will make sure that your fingers will no longer be able to press anything for quite a while, understood?” he spoke into the device calmly.
A creaking chuckle sounded. “Sure, sure, smiles. Just hurry the fuck up, will ya?”
Slipping his feet into a simple pair of loafers and pocketing his flip phone, Alastor swung the bag over his shoulder, locking the door to his apartment behind him before taking the elevator down.
“Ten minutes, seriously?” Anthony had his hands on his hips, one eyebrow raised as Alastor stepped out into the darkness of the early morning.
“If it was urgent, I am sure he could have called me himself.”
Rolling his eyes, Anthony sat back down in the driver’s seat, waiting for Alastor to fasten his seatbelt. Anthony’s mouth opened the moment his foot landed on the gas pedal, but whatever nonsense spilled from it, Alastor did not register any of it, simply fasting his gaze out of the window, watching the street lights pass by till they had left the city, dark landscapes greeting him.
Another ten minutes before they arrived at two towering gates. Anthony shouted something unintelligible into an intercom, waiting for the gates to open for them.
“Good luck, you know-”
Alastor raised an eyebrow as he pushed himself up from his seat the moment Anthony stopped the car in front of the stairs leading up to the mansion.
“Come again?”
“It’s not often that our little boss man needs someone this early in the morning. You said it wasn’t urgent, but you know, Hughie looked extra pissed when he dragged me from bed to pick ya up,” Anthony shrugged.
“Serves him right,” Alastor scoffed. Lucifer Morningstar was not going to be the only one to make Hugh’s morning, and preferably the entire day, a living hell if it was up to him.
Anthony snorted, flipping him the finger, Alastor refusing to answer that with anything other than a smile that promised bloodshed if he wasn’t careful.
That very smile lingered on his lips till the large door behind him fell closed, an eerie silence greeting him inside the mansion’s hallway. He loathed the place, had spoken his displeasure of how cold it felt more often than once. Much had changed over the past few years. Ever since the senior Morningstar had breathed his last - not even due to old age, but a bullet having punctured his lungs quite brutally - and Lucifer had been forced to take over the family business. For a long time little Charlotte’s laughter had still brightened the hallways, but that too had disappeared, leaving only a bleak memory of what the Morningstar mansion had been once.
Alastor remembered different times, but knew not to dwell on the past.
Lucifer already did that enough for the two of them.
A sigh fled him as he followed the soft light leading him up the stairs towards the west wing, soft music reaching his ears.
He was just in time to catch the smaller man before he would trip over his own feet attempting a very inflexible pirouette.
“Oh,” a soft grin graced Lucifer’s lips, bright blue eyes slightly glazed over as they darted up to melt together with Alastor’s brown ones.
Alastor scrunched his nose as the unmistakable sweet smell of an absurd concoction of different kinds of liqueur reached his nostrils. Whatever Lucifer had decided to indulge in that evening, it was either a miracle he had not yet passed out somewhere in the middle of his private rooms, but without a doubt a blessing he wasn’t yet emptying his bowels somewhere in one of the empty planters scattered throughout the mansion.
“Pray tell, what is the emergency?”
“Emergency?” The word rolled from Lucifer’s lips a little slurred, confusion crossing his features for a split second. “Oh!”
Alastor raised an eyebrow as Lucifer tried to pry himself from his hold, watching with slight amusement as the man wobbled over to his desk before coming to a halt.
“I forgot.”
The giggle with which the sentence was cast over his shoulder made Alastor clench his jaw, fighting the urge to just barge back out and call Anthony to drive him straight home.
“So you called me here, at this forsaken hour, and you forgot why?” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he couldn’t even see the way Lucifer twirled around, darting back towards him just to wrap a slender arm around his waist, leaving him frozen in his spot for a good few seconds.
“Lucifer,” he snarled, only to receive a pout in return. “Hugh called me saying you requested my presence. Now, I am aware that you have a meeting later today, but to my knowledge, it is not me who is scheduled to accompany you.”
Accompany him as his shadow, having followed Lucifer ever since he had been hired into the Morningstar business at the age of eighteen. He’d been by Lucifer’s side for close to two decades now, trailing him, protecting him, even if it was sometimes from himself, like was the case currently, it seemed.
“Although I doubt you will be in the right shape to even form a sensible sentence seeing your current… state,” he sighed when all he received was a pitiful whimper.
“Dance with me?”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Aaaal~” Lucifer grinned, looking up at him with a spark illuminating that glazed look of his. He held out his hand, one that Alastor did not take.
“You got me to come over to dance with you?”
“You are here anyway, so why not?”
“It is close to six in the morning and you have your first meeting at eleven,” he groaned. “Lucifer. Whatever you have done, you will be in no position to even face someone for the rest of the day, and all you can think about is wanting to dance?”
It was as if a switch was turned, the grin washing from Lucifer’s face as if a bowl of ice water had been dumped over him. The ends of his mouth drooped, a tentative step taken back.
Alastor couldn’t help the pang of guilt he felt in his chest, which in itself was a rare thing. There were but a few times that he would allow his mask to falter, for that cold expression to soften in the presence of another.
Lucifer was an exception, he had always been an exception. The first time he had allowed himself to show some emotion akin to compassion had been when he had pressed the smaller man to his chest, allowing him to press his bloodied face against his pristine shirt after Lucifer’s first kill merely a year after he had been hired. The second when he had wiped the tears from Lucifer’s eyes when he had found Lilith’s body at the morgue, broken and bruised.
He’d made a vow right there and then only death would tear him away from his little angel’s side.
“Cher,” he sighed, tilting his head slightly. If anything did no longer come as much of a surprise to him it was the way in which Lucifer’s emotions could flip around in the mere blink of an eye.
“You said no,” came the muffled response. Lucifer rubbing his upper arm was a telltale sign that he was unsure of what to do, hints of tears stinging in the corners of his eyes.
“If you had listened then you would have known that I did not tell you no, but did chide you for thinking it was a good idea to empty half of the liquor cabinet in the kitchen.”
“I did not feel well.”
Alastor frowned, the sudden uncertain tone in Lucifer’s voice causing a little concern.
“Mentally or physically.”
“If it had been physical I would have called for Belle and you know it,” Lucifer snapped back with a little more bark in his voice. Admittedly, Alastor knew that to be a good sign, the worried look on his face slowly melting into a soft smile as he stepped forward. His fingers slid beneath Lucifer’s chin, pushing his face up gently.
“And why did you not call me back?”
“It is your day off, and I know how much you value your… alone time,” Lucifer tried to explain, struggling to avoid Alastor’s gaze as he waved his arm around, unable to stand still for too long. And his statement was true, Alastor did value his time off. That did not mean he would not come running the moment he received a call, that morning being proof of that.
“And yet, you needed a listening ear.”
Lucifer merely shrugged, ready to pull away from Alastor had it not been for the fact that the other man was a lot faster, and stronger, for that matter, quickly slipping another arm underneath Lucifer’s left before lifting him off the ground.
“W-wha-?”
Alastor tutted to silence him, shaking his head as he brought him towards the adjacent bedroom, the plush sheets on the bed already pushed back as he laid Lucifer down on the mattress.
“Four hours, I will wake you up again at ten, that will give you some time to wash your face before you have to leave.” He’d have to see if he could postpone Lucifer’s first meeting, although he doubted it would be that difficult.
As Lucifer’s shadow he had a reputation, not one easily ignored unless you were keen on inviting some rather unfortunate events into your life. A wicked smirk curled the ends of his mouth at the thought.
“Will you stay?” Watching Lucifer’s eyes already droop closed, exhaustion taking him in its grasp, Alastor lifted the pale hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against the back.
Lucifer had already dozed off into a restless slumber before Alastor could give him an answer, a mere chuckle pushed past his lips as he made himself comfortable against the headboard. Lucifer almost immediately curled up against his clothed leg, a whimper escaping him.
It was around seven that he gave up on trying to send a few texts, sleep claiming him while he had his long fingers curled in those blond strands of hair.
When he woke he found a blanket draped over him, his neck stiff from the position he was in.
And Lucifer awake and gone.
Pushing up quicker than he should have, fighting the stars clouding his vision for a second. Bolting back into the office he groans at the sight of Lucifer’s coat hanging over his desk’s chair, forgotten. It did not even take him a minute to descend the stairs back into the massive entrance hall of the manor.
Lucifer’s hair smelled of cinnamon and apples as he pressed his nose into it, an arm having snaked around his waist.
“Al?”
He chuckled softly as he pulled back, “You forgot your coat, little dove.”
Lucifer blinked once, twice, the expression on his face melting into a shit eating grin. He plucked the garment from Alastor’s outstretched arms, draping it across his shoulders.
“Oops?” he laughed softly before reaching out, curling his gloved fingers into Alastor’s crumpled sweater before pulling him down towards his level, his voice reduced to a soft whisper.
“Thank you, for everything.”
Alastor blinked, admittedly pleasantly surprised by Lucifer’s almost sober state. He leaned in, a gentle kiss pressed against the other man’s temple.
“Always, mon cher. Go give them Hell.”