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Summary
“Right. Great. You’re with me now. Here’s the deal: you like those, don’t you?” Lucifer asked, voice so soft a croon Alastor would know it was fake. “I will help you through this, slake your animal lust the old fashioned way—just this once.” His hand lifted, brushing against Alastor’s jaw, and he watched with a ghostly smirk as Alastor’s eyes flared, his smile more like a sneer even as Lucifer leaned forward. Good. It was easier to do this when Alastor acted how Lucifer had come to expect. “Charlie will never know, your psychotic little Overlord friends will never know, and when it’s done we will walk away and never, ever speak of it again.”
As an angel, Lucifer's never thought much about the secondary natures of humans or their Sinner counterparts in Hell. Then Alastor goes into rut, and he finds himself reevaluating what it is he’ll do to keep his daughter’s dream alive.