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Summary
Alastor sat in the bar, holding his head in his hand. Husker kept filling up his glass with whiskey without asking questions, good man. Alastor knew that he was on the edge by having two bosses now, and didn’t want to risk invoking either one’s wrath.
Lucifer had healed him, but it has been a long and tedious process. His other self has been there as well, constantly hovering over them, but allowing Lucifer to work freely. They even bantered, Lucifer had talked with him about ducks, while healing Alastor. He wanted to snap them both out of it, he would very much like if they would address him as well, even though he didn’t want to talk about Lucifer’s silly hobbies.
He had been feeling very sick lately. There had been weird rushes of wetness between his legs and cold shivers which had turned into waves of heat. He cursed when he realized what it meant - his heat was coming early. He would need to retreat into his room for a few weeks and suffer through it. During that time he would be totally useless, too maddened with lust and unable to think straight.