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It was strange how Lucifer dwelled on brief moments like these; quiet glimpses into something so simple and domestic one could forget they were even in hell. The soft ambiance of the synthesized bayou bled into the main part of Alastor’s room as though it was always meant to be there, with crickets chirping between the subtle swish of cypress canopy.
Lucifer had just meant to stop by for a moment, only to wish the other a ‘good night’ before he settled in himself. Whether that meant in his own room or Alastor’s would have been entirely up to the radio demon, but Lucifer could certainly hope. Alastor had chosen to retire early that evening, likely to enjoy a bit of solitude after a particularly rowdy day at the hotel, nothing too out of the ordinary, though Lucifer had already started to get a bit antsy without at least being near the other.
When he was met with silence after a brief knock at the door, Lucifer took it upon himself to enter only to peer in. Given the nature of their—one could refer to—relationship, Alastor typically found little offense in the action, perking up immediately upon the intrusion and simply inquiring about the visit. This time however, Lucifer was met with more silence, looking around quickly to catch the still form of Alastor upon the made bed, still in his typical attire save for the coat that seemed to have been discarded on a nearby chair.
This was a rare moment of restfulness that the fallen angel had caught the other in, and Lucifer had no intention of squandering it, gently stepping towards the bed. He first noticed a book splayed open across Alastor’s chest, hand placed over it where he had previously been holding it up. Lucifer stifled a laugh, relishing in how… human Alastor looked having dozed off mid-book-reading. His crimson hair was slightly tussled where it rested upon the pillow, strands carelessly fallen onto his face where it otherwise would have been perfectly kept. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, lips parted just slightly to allow his breath to slip past; A motion that bore so much life for an otherwise dead man.
Lucifer hardly registered how he took a tentative seat on the side of the bed to better observe the other. He felt mesmerized by every little, almost imperceptible, motion the demon made. For a moment it made the Devil forget his own circumstance and the circumstance of every sinner around him; that perhaps humans remained as these lovely pure creatures that could do no wrong. That notion started to feel far less like wishful thinking for a future that could never be and more a distant memory of something long past. He’s finally making peace with that.
Perhaps once upon a time that would have been his dream to go back to a simpler time, but his recent time in Hell, in the hotel especially, has changed that. He has begun to appreciate the complex, raw, and unpredictable nature of human kind that he considered a burden, but it was truly what made humans… well, human. Even Alastor’s more than checkered past in life, and continued into death, made him endlessly fascinating to the fallen angel once he got to know him better, and he would never dream of changing that to facilitate some long dead folly of his.
With a feather-light touch, Lucifer carefully moved the book to the night stand still splayed down on the page Alastor left it on, being ever so quiet as to not disturb the demon. Beyond that, the Devil simply watched the other sleep: the steady movement of his chest, the subtle flicks of his ears, the gentle twitch of his finger tips, it was all so lovely to watch. Alastor seemed so at peace, especially without that endless smile plastered on his face. Lucifer felt as though he could watch the other for hours, and in truth he probably could, not necessarily needing sleep and all. He leaned down a bit, bringing his legs up onto the bed after kicking his boots off, resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he simply watched.
“What are you doing?” The sound of a voice cutting through the serene atmosphere startled the angel, causing his body to jolt slightly as he realized he had awoken the radio demon. Lucifer laughed sheepishly at his own reaction, looking away a bit embarrassed he was caught staring at the other.
“Oh sorry, Al, guess I was a little lost in thought. I was just captivated by how pretty you are, is all,” Lucifer uttered softly, a little distracted by his almost meditative state from before. Alastor hummed in acknowledgment, eyes still closed as he processed the rather bold admittance. It was certainly not the first time Lucifer spoke his mind without thinking, carelessly remarking his attraction towards the sinner like it wasn’t some realm-shattering news. Alastor had made an effort to not bristle as much when such ‘slip-ups’ occur, even growing rather accustomed to them as their… relationship deepened.
It was strange what the two had; a complex web of feelings ranging from adoration to frustration that often left the radio demon more than a little befuddled. He didn’t dislike it per se, Lucifer certainly didn’t, which placated the parts of Alastor that tried to reject the mere notion that he may have affections for another person, the king of Hell no less. Alastor still found himself laughing at the suggestion that the only person to have pulled such emotions from the demon’s cold hardened heart was the Devil himself.
He opened his eyes finally, something a little more sincere gracing his face as he smiled at Lucifer. Alastor was amused by the way the monarch ducked his head down with the lower part of his face now covered by the palm of his hand, a golden flush visible on his cheeks.
“Mon ange, you are said to be the most beautiful creature in all creation and yet find yourself enraptured by the sight of a mere sinner?” Alastor spoke up mostly to tease, hoping to make the angel sputter through some attempt to reject such exaggerated claims of his otherworldly beauty. To Alastor’s surprise, Lucifer only glanced up at him with his lovely crimson eyes, so steadfast when he spoke.
“Yes,” Lucifer hardly let a breath escape either of them when he affirmed Alastor’s quip with such unyielding conviction. It was almost intimidating to Alastor, unsure of how to counter it.
“What, praytell, could you possibly see in me that you haven't already witnessed countless times in your eternity?” Alastor wavered on his belief that Lucifer spoke mere flattery; the angel wasn’t one for such empty platitudes and spoke with ernest all too often, much to Alastor’s tentative annoyance. No, Alastor knew Lucifer meant it when he admitted he found Alastor beautiful even in the grand scheme of the cosmos, though that was certainly not a pill the radio demon would swallow so easily.
“That's exactly it, I had yet to witness you, Alastor. No being in all creation could ever be you, and it is your unique humanity that has captivated me so,” Lucifer’s eyes were captivating as he spoke, sparkling like the golden sun as he divulged his deepest adoration for this mere mortal. The fallen angel’s namesake always seemed to ring true, the very Morning Star himself. Alastor found himself paused as he simply witnessed his ethereal…other; a proper word for what Lucifer was to Alastor still seemed to elude the demon. His hand twitched as he wished to reach out and touch that fair porcelain skin speckled in a gold glow like delicate fine china. He found he hesitated though, his hand remaining in place.
“You are certainly quite the poet, Majesty, does that also come from your boundless eternity?” Alastor quipped with a nonchalance he hoped hid his reciprocal captivation, even if he had already spent far too long staring at the angel.
“No, that also comes from you, you have quite the way with words, you know?” Lucifer spared a sincere smile, quite enjoying the transparency he leaned into that had yet to be soured by his usually stubborn unwillingness to compliment the demon outright. Alastor picked up on that, seeing it as a challenge to now attempt to further fluster Lucifer with pretty words of his own.
“I find I'm quite adept when I have a heavenly muse to inspire me.” There was an obvious pause where Alastor looked upon Lucifer and saw sadness shift through crimson eyes for only a moment as he looked away.
“I wonder where you'll find one of those, certainly not anyone here,” The Devil laughed bitterly, an acrid sting worming its way through his soul at his own failing. He certainly wasn’t the same as he was before Eden, scorched and corrupted by the fall that had left him a twisted facsimile of what he was supposed to be; his wings were torn and regrown in crimson blood and his halo shattered and pathetically replaced by a golden manifestation of his treachery. He was certainly no heavenly symbol anymore.
Lucifer understood Alastor meant no ill-will by the comment, even if in their earlier—far more spiteful—acquaintanceship, that would have been exactly what Alastor would mock him for. No, this time Alastor earnestly meant it, as misguided as he might have been, though still it made the recollection tough to swallow. The spark of adoration wanned in Lucifer’s eyes, and Alastor could see the signs of depression encroaching where it had no place to be. That finally pushed Alastor to move, cupping his hand over Lucifer’s that hid part of his face and coaxing it back towards his own face to press a slow kiss to the inner palm.
“Whether you preside in Hell or Heaven, you still bear the ethereal beauty of an angel crafted by divine hands,” Alastor spoke his words of praise with the ease of breathing, staring earnestly into the Devil’s eyes with unshakable conviction. Lucifer was left stunned, face painted in a golden blush as he found himself without a proper response. Rather, he found it more appropriate to bury his face in the mattress, whining softly.
“There you go again with your words…” For lack of better phrasing, Lucifer silently cursed Alastor’s ability to string together a sentence that truly left him speechless. It wasn’t helped that Lucifer lacked the ability to hide his feelings like his partner did, and Alastor got far too good at drawing out his desired reactions from the angel.
“Shall I enjoy your visage in silence then?” Alastor’s smugness hardly faltered as he rolled onto his side to fully face Lucifer now, his unoccupied arm tucking under his head like a pillow. The hand that held Lucifer’s cradled it close to his chest now as though to profess some deeper feeling he wouldn’t quite put into words.
“I fear either way I may just die of embarrassment." Lucifer’s words were still muffled from the mattress he was mildly attempting to smother himself in. Alas, breathing is not really a requirement for him so that was a moot notion.
“And why is that, cher?” Alastor leaned in more to try to recapture Lucifer’s full attention, bumping his forehead lightly against the side of the monarch’s head, brushing up against his soft blonde hair. Timidly, Lucifer turned his head to mimic the touch, touching his forehead to the invisible scar that still haunted the space between Alastor’s brows. The angel watched as Alastor closed his eyes for a moment and hummed almost imperceptibly at the soothing sensation brought on by having the ghost of his fatal wound caressed by divinity.
“I’m still not used to someone being this… attentive to me,” Lucifer hesitantly spoke up, finding the feeling hard to put into words. Alastor chuckled, opening his eyes again to gaze deep and earnest into the eyes of his partner.
“Then allow me, a humble servant, to attend to his king as is right and proper.” Sarcasm dripped heavy in the radio demon’s words but it was clearly meant as a light-hearted quip rather than anything insulting.
“As though a stubborn deer like you would ever willingly call yourself my servant,” Lucifer chuckled, rolling with the brighter tone, although the sentiment behind that statement was deeper than intended. Alastor had never truly treated Lucifer as a king, and that was in fact one of the things that drew the angel to Alastor to begin with. It was his willingness—rather his insistence—to be on equal footing to the Devil that made Alastor so captivating amongst sinners. He may only be a man, but his hubris was almost admirable, and his power was certainly not one to scoff at. It too was impressive.
“That may be true, I was never one for groveling under an unworthy monarch, but perhaps I can worship you as something more.” As Alastor continued, he trailed his hand to Lucifer’s shoulder, further down to his elbow to pull the angel forward as Alastor rolled onto his back, pinning himself under his partner. The king was momentarily caught off guard but repositioned himself to be comfortably laying over the other, leaning into the hand that Alastor placed back onto Lucifer’s cheek, endeared by the way that felt almost second nature to the demon.
“As a god or as an equal, oh great and powerful radio demon?” Lucifer mocked lightly, not dwelling too far into the implications of what Alastor said. The demon rolled his eyes.
“Spare me the patronizing tone, mon ange. Though I do hope I can hold a candle to your boundless light, never as an equal but the next best thing,” He was being far too honest, almost never having been fully willing to admit his shortcomings. For as much pride as the sinner carried though, he was certainly not foolish enough to think he could be comparable in power to Lucifer Morningstar of all beings. It saddened Lucifer a bit to hear that deep down Alastor still felt a sense of inferiority to the angel, having hoped their blossoming partnership would have dissuaded such sentiments.
“Come on now, Al, you know that’s not fair. Sure, I’m the most powerful being in Hell but I don’t want to lord that over you, I respect you too much for that,” Lucifer’s voice grew timid as he said that, his head tucking into the crook of Alastor’s neck as though to hide himself in his admittance that he respected Alastor. He didn’t know why it felt embarrassing to say, as though Alastor would berate him for it; he was the King of Hell, he shouldn’t be respecting sinners, let alone doling out such gentle adorations with the same ease as breathing.
“A sinner earning the Devil’s respect? Now that’s certainly a treat.” Alastor’s tone settled back into something a little more casual—something a little more comfortable for the two—as Alastor leaned into his partner, feeling the brush of his golden hair against his cheek. Lucifer felt warm like a sun kissed afternoon, lulling Alastor into a mindset that felt soft and affectionate. His hand found the back of the angel’s head, combing through his blonde locks simply, like touching clouds in Heaven. Lucifer was exactly what Alastor imagined Heaven to be like; all warmth and fluff wrapped up in a pretty package that would lure any man in.
“Shush, don’t act like you don’t know how much I love you.” It was spoken quickly, muffled from Lucifer’s position, but it held so much intensity that it left Alastor stunned. He knew where Lucifer stood with his feelings towards him, having unabashedly professed his ‘I love you’s many times. Alastor also knew that Lucifer understood his hesitance in returning those words in full. Lucifer was more than willing to be patient with the sinner; he was an eternity old after all, whatever time it took for Alastor to fully evaluate his stance in their relationship would hardly dissuade the ancient being. With time, it got easier to hear the words though, and Alastor eased the tension that settled in his shoulders. He hasn’t quite gotten to the point of comfortably repeating them, but he felt his actions have conveyed something similar that it has put the angel’s mind at ease a bit.
“Not at all, mon cher, you speak that truth quite often,”
“Good, I don’t want you ever forgetting it.” Lucifer lifted his head, staring at Alastor sternly, his conviction unencumbered. He truly meant every one of his confessions of love, and there wasn’t a moment that Alastor would be permitted to doubt that.
“I could never, to let you go now would be like a second death to me.” It was certainly no direct proclamation of love but to Lucifer it may as well have been, which was almost more than Lucifer had ever heard Alastor admit. The way that Alastor brought both his hands to hold his face seemed to speak louder than his words even, cradling him as though he were the most precious thing in the known universe and beyond. Lucifer couldn’t even turn away, being held in place by his partner, with his face alight in a divine golden glow.
“I told you you were good with your words,” Lucifer deflected some of what he truly felt, being unsure if he would be able to properly assess Alastor’s words. He chuckled sheepishly as eyes wandered off to the side where the book from earlier lay on the nightstand. Alastor shook his head, finally pulling Lucifer in to press a kiss to his lips, keeping it light and chaste but allowing it a few moments to linger, fully recapturing the Devil’s attention.
“You have to learn from someone, I suppose,” Alastor replied, playing off Lucifer’s earlier admission, hoping to fully put his partner’s mind at ease after their emotionally charged conversation. With a resigned sigh, Lucifer eased fully into his position over the demon, allowing his arms to stretch upward on either side of Alastor’s head and slide under the pillow behind the other, sprawling out like a pleased cat. Alastor readily accepted the position, his own hands folding comfortably at the small of the angel’s back.
“Happy to,” They met yet again in a simple kiss, the warmth of heaven pressing into Alastor’s skin and letting him have his fill of the angel’s affection. Lucifer too drank up whatever Alastor had to offer, captivated by the smallest notions of his love even if he may never speak the words. He felt fully reassured by the radio demon’s unrelenting conviction, not needing a drop more to know the truth.