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Let’s flip a coin,” Lucifer says, looking up at Alastor with narrowed eyes. “If it’s Heads, I do it. If it’s Tails… then you do it.”
Alastor’s smile wobbles a little in the corner, before stretching into a full grin, all shiny teeth. “All right.”
The coin flips in the air, spinning a couple of times before getting caught and covered by Lucifer’s hands. There is a silent moment where the two men in front of each other just stare at the other, anticipation buzzing in the air.
“You ready?” Lucifer says, eyeing Alastor attentively. “This is it.”
Alastor takes a deep breath through his nose before nodding. “Let’s see.”
Lucfier inhales quickly before slowly peeling away his upper hand to reveal——Tails. A long pause in which none of them say anything, just stare at the coin.
Then Alastor says, “Shit.”
*
The smell of burnt meat has slithered its dirty claws all the way up to the third floor of the Hotel. It has the residents peek out of their doors, trying to see if they can find the source of the horrendous smell. Eventually, though, they give up, realizing that they don’t want to get closer to what possibly could be smelling so horribly.
Alastor and Lucifer are not like those cowards.
The Devil has a slight jump to his steps as he walks hand in hand with a grumpy Alastor. Alastor, who is wearing the cutest, most Christmasy shirt Lucifer has ever seen. Much to the deer-demon’s displeasure.
Lucifer clings to the other man as they descend the stairs, the smell just getting worse by each step. He can hear Alastor mutter something like, I’m the only one who can cook here, next to him.
When they get to the lobby, Alastor lets go of the Devil’s hand, only to bury his face in his own. It’s not like the mighty Radio Demon to show such an obvious display of emotion, but, Lucifer has realized, that ever since they entered a relationship together, Alastor’s been more and more open. Not just to him - but to everyone. If only in small doses - though this one is pretty big.
The shirt is slightly oversized - so just imagine how big it would be on Lucifer - reaching the demon mid thigh. The green material is soft, though, not sticky, so that’s a plus. In the center of the shirt is a big logo of a deer - no pun intended - with a Christmas hat. It even has small bells that, sadly enough, don’t ring when shook, but, still. It’s fucking adorable.
“Dad! Alastor!” Charlie shrieks when she sees them, immediately dropping whatever she was doing to rush up to the two men. She throws her arms around her father’s shoulders, hugging him tightly.
“There, Kiddo,” Lucifer chokes out, eyes watering in both happiness and lack of air, “merry Christmas!”
“Indeed!” chirps Charlie before letting go of him, finally letting Lucifer gasp in a well needed breath of air. She then turns to Alastor who is self consciously - is he? - hugging himself as if to shield the shirt from people’s prying eyes. She looks a bit unsure of what to do; Charlie is well aware of Alastor and Lucifer’s relationship, and, even though she had been extremely shocked and a little awkward about it in the beginning, has shown no signs of anger nor uncomfortability. She seems genuinely happy about it. She has witnessed Alastor and Lucifer indulging in physical contact - not that type of contact, you freak - and through that realized that Alastor seems to be having an easier time with touching, but is still unsure of if she is allowed to hug him or anything like that.
Sensing Charlie’s discomfort, Alastor actually drops his arms, tiliting his head to the side. There is an audible swallow from the tall man. But, before anyone can say anything about it, Alastor puts a hand - he actually does! - on Charlie’s shoulder, smile in place. “It would be rude of me not to wish you a merry Christmas, too, would it not?”
Charlie’s eyes widen in shock before going completely glassy. She seems to have to actively stop herself from hugging the demon, knowing that that would be an unwise move. But, she does dare to cover Alastor’s hand with her own, swallowing her happy tears.
“Merry Christmas, you guys!” she sniffles.
Lucifer watches their interaction with a soft smile on his lips.
It’s not like before.
Before, Lucifer would have thought a conversation like this between Alastor and Charlie was purely a way for Alastor to show Lucifer how strong a bond he has with the Princess of Hell.
Now, though? Lucifer knows that isn’t Alastor’s intention.
Charlie is just about to depart when she throws a glance over her shoulder. She nods toward Alastor. “Amazing shirt!”
“Told ya!” Lucifer says, nudging the demon in the side with an elbow, earning an annoyed - however admiring - groan.
The static pitches as the taller man reaches down to flick Lucifer’s smaller nose. “Then why didn’t you want to wear it, if you find it so appealing?”
“Uh,” the Devil says, crossing his arms over his chest, “because… just look at it! It’d reach my feet!”
“Mhm,” Alastor mutters. “That’s surely why, Your Majesty.”
“You don’t need to call me that,” Lucifer says, for, like, the thirteenth hundred time! “Lucifer is just fine.” More than fine, actually, but you don’t need to know that.
“My apologies, Love.”
An intense, golden hue spreads over Lucifer’s face at that, and he quickly looks away, mortified at his own reaction. Love…
“Well, don’t just stand there!” Vaggie says from the other side of the room, urging them to come closer. “This is the dinner for staff only; the other residents will have theirs tomorrow. And, unless you wanna join theirs, I suggest you get your asses over here.” She blinks at Lucifer, as if only remembering who she is talking to. “Uhm, Your Majesty.”
“How easily I am forgotten!” Alastor says, hand to his heart.
Vaggie mutters something in spanish before getting caught up in a heated conversation with Angel. Something about not propping the turkey’s behind with beer.
Alastor’s foot is tapping over and over against the floor. His shoulders are tense. In fact, his whole body seems as rigid as a statue.
Lucifer frowns, looking up at him. “Hey. Everything okay?”
Alastor looks down at him, nodding quickly. “Yes. Yes, of course, Your Maje—Lucifer.”
But the Devil isn’t satisfied with that.
He grabs the demon’s hand - not squeezing, Alastor doesn’t like that - but holding firmly. With as much command as he can muster, he says, “As the King of Hell, I demand you speak to me.”
Alastor raises an eyebrow.
His foot taps quicker.
Okay. Another tactic. A more sincere one.
“As someone who lo—who cares about you, please, tell me what’s wrong.”
That makes Alastor stop moving altogether. He doesn’t even seem to be breathing.
At his silence, Lucifer starts to run his head for other ways to get this stubborn brat to open up to him - because he can’t fucking stand the obvious anxiety on his face.
But, after another moment, Alastor’s lips part, as if on a breath. Quiet for a couple of seconds. Then:
“My… My mother used to… ahem, uhm,” He shakes his shoulders, then his head, “she used to, always, every Christmas, make, uhm…” A quivering breath. “She used to always draw small paper figures representing me and her. New ones every year. You see, she wanted me to have them, have us, to make sure I always remembered that she was with me, wherever she was.” He clears his throat. “She was scared, I realized as I grew older. Scared that, one day, she might just… poof, disappear. Of course, she didn’t tell me that when I was a small child. But, as I grew up, she must at some point have understood that I knew. She didn’t stop making those little figures, though. Not until she died.”
Lucifer’s heart is beating quickly against his ribs, mouth completely dry now. But he doesn’t say anything, not wanting to interrupt Alastor now that he’s started talking.
“She would buy pencils with just the right color for my skin.” A small smile pulls at his lips. “Not too light and not too dark. She was so very careful.” His arms rise to hug himself again, hands fisting the fabric of the shirt. “I just… I never celebrated Christmas after her death. Not when I was alive and not… not here, either. It felt wrong. Why should I celebrate something without her, when she was the sole reason I enjoyed it in the first place, now that she’s gone…? Should I— Am I even allowed to have a happy smile on my face at this time of year, when she isn’t here? Should I just move on—Because I can’t! It’s not right. It’s not right—“
“Hey! Hey, hey,” Lucifer says, reaching for his hands that are so close to ripping the shirt. He isn’t scared that it’ll break - he couldn’t give two fucks about that - he is more scared that Alastor is going to eat himself alive with all this guilt and anxiety.
Alastor’s breathing is steady, pose relaxed. No one would be able to see any signs of discomfort or anxiety were they not looking closely enough. They wouldn’t see the way his fingers tremble in Lucifer’s hands, or the way his smile is on its way to collapsing.
Lucifer has seen Alastor without a smile one time only. And, as much as he would love to see his face relax again, he knows now is not the time for that. He is pretty sure that if his smile drops now, he would never set foot in the hotel again. Never be seen by any of them again.
Or, it might result in a couple of corpses. (Not really. Alastor wouldn’t kill them. Lucifer knows this. And not only because Alastor has said it.)
Casting a quick glance over his shoulder, making sure that everyone’s busy and not looking their way, he then takes ahold of Alastor’s hands and leads him to a the couch. Sits him down. Doesn’t let go of his slightly shaking hands.
“Look at me,” Lucifer says gently.
When the demon doesn’t, he gently lets go of his hands to instead cup his face. Alastor has become so much more open with his emotions toward Lucifer, and now is only another proof of that: his eyes are shiny when he reluctantly meets the Devil’s eyes.
“I—I’m sorry,” he musters, jaw clenching. “I don’t mean to ruin this for you. You—You can go—“
“Nuh-uh,” Lucifer interrupts, bringing his forehead to touch Alastor’s - something that is now possible when they are both sitting. “I’m not leaving. You aren’t ruining shit, you hear me? I… I’m here for you. Whatever happens. Got it? I’d… I’d do fucking anything for you.”
He feels his own eyes tear up. “Alastor, I—“ a shaky breath, “You and Charlie. You’re everything to me.”
Alastor takes a ragged breath, his own hands lifting to fist Lucifer’s hair. And, when he speaks, his voice is void of any filter:
“Luci,” he whispers. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Don’t have to worry about that,” Lucifer says softly, feeling a tear run down his cheek. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.” A pause. “And… I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry for what happened to you. To her. I swear, if I could, I’d—“
“It’s okay,” Alastor says. “I know you would.”
“You deserve happiness, too. She’d want that for you,” Lucifer says, placing a light kiss on Alastor’s cheek. “You got that?”
A beat. A nod. A shaky, genuine smile.
“You don’t have to smile for me,” Lucifer murmurs, heart pounding against his ribs. “You… You can relax.”
Alastor bites his lip hard to hold in a sob, smile wobbling, struggling to stay, until it collapses fully. A single, lonely tear run down his cheek as his face relaxes.
So gorgeous. So fucking, otherwordly gorgeous.
*
Alastor is smiling again. He is still wearing the shirt; Lucifer had told him he could take it off if he didn’t want to wear it, but Alastor had brushed him off, saying he could handle it. He is the Radio Demon after all.
They are now all sitting ‘round the dinner table, trying to get out of eating the burnt turkey - even if no one wants to out right say it.
“So, Alastor. I am very interested in seeing what you’ve bought for Secret Santa,” Vaggie says, raising an eyebrow at the demon in front of her.
“Oh, yes, indeedy!” Alastor chirps, lifting his chin. “Something quite out of the ordinary, you will see.”
“Hmph, sure” mutters Vaggie, eyeing him suspiciously.
“Hey, don’t be mean, Vaggie,” Charlie says, nudging her girlfriend. “I’m sure Alastor has gotten Angel something amazing.”
“Yes,” Alastor muses, before turning to Lucifer. “I am not so sure about this little man, though.”
“Hey!” Lucifer says, crossing his arms over his chest. “I can assure you, Deer, that I have gotten Husk something perfect.”
“With your lack of ceativity, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was nothing other than a bottle of whiskey.”
“All right, ouch. And, no, it’s not fucking whiskey.”
“Hey!” Charlie groans. “You’re not supposed to say neither what you have gotten, nor what you haven’t gotten. You both need to keep your mouths shut when it comes to that.” A blink. “Please.”
“Sure thing, Char-Char!” Lucifer says proudly, giving Alastor the side eye. “It’s not me you should be worried about saying too much.”
“You are literally the one who just ssssaid to much,” Sir Pentious says. “Not Alastor.”
“Well,” Alastor says, folding a napkin neatly over his lap. “I am known for my impressive secretivity. You needn’t worry about me, Charlotte.”
Charlie stares at them in silence. “Riiiight….”
“So, who wants more turkey!” Vaggie says as she holds up a plate stuffed with burnt meat.
No one says anything.
Vaggie groans. “Seriously. It’s not that bad.”
“Vaggie… Babe, it is that bad,” Charlie whispers, a little too loudly.
A giggle from Angel at that.
“Ya know, if you’d just let me put some beer in there, I am sure everyone woulda’ like a taste of that ass—“
“Angel, for the last time,” Husk groans, “the beer woulda’ gotten ruined, too. And, you ain’t supposed to stuff a fuckin’ turkey with beer!”
“Boring,” Angel says with a shrug of his shoulders.
“I like beer in asses…” Niffty giggles to herself, reveling in the horrified looks from the other staff members.
Lucifer’s chest is warm as he watches the others chat and talk. He is so inexplicably happy. He actually did it; He got out of bed and managed to repair his broken relationship with his daughter; He managed to find a place in her life and through that find friends; He fucking managed to fall in love again. With the Radio Demon, out of all people.
Love…
He glances at Alastor, who is busy trying to convince Sir Pentious to eat the turkey if he is so certain it isn’t as bad as everyone says.
Suddenly overcome with emotions, he grabs Alastor’s hand under the table, needing to hold on to him.
Please, all forces above, let me hold on to him.
The dinner passes rather peacfully after that; the turkey remains uneaten.
*
It turns out Alastor did get something quite out of the ordinary for Angel. At least when it comes to the porn star.
“A notebook?” Angel says questioningly, holding the book up in front of his eyes. “Uh… thank you?”
“Indeedy!” Alastor says cheerily. “I don’t mean to sound offensive, but I haven’t been able not to notice your clear need to talk about your emotions. And, I am sure Husker is always willing to listen to you, but, sometimes, you might not want anyone to know, but still want to get it out of you. Therefore, a notebook! Plus…” Alastor says, voice lowering. “I am quite certain you don’t want to share your obvious emotions toward out dear bartender to anyone else. This notebook is perfect for that! Let your emotions pour out of you!”
Angel stares at him, mouth open. Glances down at the notebook. “Woah, just exposing me like that,” he mutters. “But, fine. I’ll admit that is kinda thoughtfull. Thanks!” And, to everyone’s certain surprise, he actually clutches the book to his chest, eyes shiny.
Husk’s paw finds one of Angel’s hands, fingers and claws just brushing against each other.
Lucifer bites back a smile.
When it is the Devil’s turn, he hands over his gift to Husk, anticipation and nervousness coursing through him. He really hopes he likes it…
Husk unwraps the present, staring at he camera in his hands. “What…?”
“Uhm, so, yeah,” Lucifer says, cupping his neck, suddenly feeling stupid. “I just thought… Uhm… Maybe you would like to capture memories? Just, like, sometimes? It feels great, you know? Going back, looking back to those special moments. With friends and with… other type of friends.”
Husk automatically glances at Angel.
Lucifer forces down his snicker.
“Thanks, Your Majesty,” Husk says, then. And he sounds genuine.
The other gifts are exchanged: Lucifer gets a kit of rubber ducks from Vaggie, and Alastor recieves a heart-shaped pillow from Charlie.
After an hour or two, it is time for Hell’s special Christmas show that runs two times every year, on this specific day and the one after.
But, as Husk and Angel are about to sit down in the couch, Niffty somehow manages to climb up the spider demon, to stand on his head. She then holds up a mistletoe over them.
Angel actually blushes, something Lucifer never thought he’d see. The demon then peeks down at Husk, cheeks burning. “You—You don’t have to if you don’t want to—“
Husk stands on his tip toes, gently wrapping his arms around Angel’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss.
During the show, snacks and buns are shared. Alastor actually tries one, nose wrinkling at the sweet taste.
“Ha! Don’t like the sweets?” Lucifer says, grinning up at him.
“Hmph!” Alastor snorts. “I prefer bitter tastes.”
“Bitter like your soul?”
Alastor flashes what seems to be a genuine smile. “Yes, exactly.” He taps his finger on his chin. “Although, I do like one particular sweet taste.”
“Yeah? What?” Lucifer says, lifting an eyebrow.
Alastor leans down, nose brushing Lucifer’s cheek. “You.”
He then steals a quick kiss from the Devil.
When the show is over and everyone’s started to yawn, they decide to call it a night. They do need to be up and ready for tomorrow, when the hotel residents are going to have their own Christmas celebration.
But, before heading back to their own seperate rooms - Alastor has made it clear that he isn’t quite ready to spend the whole night together yet, which Lucifer respects - the Devil pulls the demon aside.
“Uhm, I know you are probably really tired, and I’m not gonna take years now, but, uhm, I made you something,” Lucifer says, looking away, palms clammy. He isn’t sure if Alastor will appreciate what he has done.
Alastor smiles that smile that he only shows when he is with Lucifer. “What have you done this time, Little Devil?”
Lucifer reaches into his pocket, pulling out a little box. He hands it to Alastor, still not looking at him. “You totally don’t need to keep it—them. I get if this is too far. But, uhm, I made them earlier today, just before the show, and—“
Alastor has already opened the box, and he is now staring at what is inside. Lucifer can’t decipher if it is a good stare or a bad stare. Stress gnaws at his bones, and he restlessly switches his weight from one foot to the other. “You don’t have to like it—“
“You made these?” Alastor whispers, voice thick. He straightens the shirt at the edges, pulling a hand through his red and black hair.
Lucifer nods uncertainly. “Y-Yeah.”
Alastor looks up, eyes shiny.
“N-No! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to upset you! I—I’m sorry!” Lucifer exclaims, reaching for the box, but Alastor holds it out of his reach.
The demon sniffles slightly, wiping his eyes with one hand, clutching the box with the other.
Lucifer swallows hard. How could he have been so stupid as to make these—
“I love you.”
His heart stops, and his gaze snaps to Alastor. His lips part, eyes widening to the point of pain. “Wh-What?”
Tears run down Alastor’s cheeks now, and he pulls Lucifer in, crushing him to his chest. “I love you, Luci. So much.”
Lucifer’s own arms raise to wrap around Alastor, hands splayed out over his back. His heart is beating again, now pounding so hard it hurts. His own eyes are shimmering as he buries his face in Alastor’s neck. “I love you, too,” he whispers. And he means it.
He means it.
And so, the two lovers stand there, hugging. Alastor is still clutching the box containing two, small paper figures holding hands. Two paper figures that look just like himself and
Lucifer.
And, both of them think, merry Christmas, My Love.