Chapter Text
Lucifer is having what he considers a good night. He still can't sleep, he's still lonely, and the looming feeling of inadequacy is still slowly chipping away at his sanity. BUT! Instead of wallowing in misery while in the comfort of his own room, he's managed to drag himself down to the dingy hotel bar for a late night treat. It's helping, a little, which is better than most nights.
It only takes one incredibly awkward attempt at small talk for him to settle into a comfortable silence with Husk, which is a win in his book, and surely a sign that coming down instead of staying holed up in his room was the right decision.
Lucifer idly traces a duck into the condensation on the side of his drink, only half paying attention as Husk painstakingly makes sure the pink sugar around the rim of a fancy looking glass is even.
Angel's shift must be over. Husk always has a drink ready for him by the time he gets back to the hotel. It's heartwarming, even if it does bring bittersweet memories of Lilith to the forefront of his mind. He'll have to head back to his room soon. Unlike someone around here, Lucifer doesn't take joy in interrupting intimate emotional moments.
As if summoned by the mere thought, the shadows two stools down from his own coalesce into an inky puddle of darkness. Alastor emerges from the depths, probably for the sole reason of annoying the absolute shit out of him. Lucifer very forcefully squishes down the part of himself that is feeling happy about it before it can show on his face.
"Good evening, gentlemen!" Alastor greets, much louder than necessary in the near silent lobby.
"Fuck!" Husk flinches, hissing as he nearly drops his glass.
Lucifer catches the corners of Alastor's smile tilting up ever so slightly in satisfaction at the fumble and scoffs in lieu of a greeting.
"What, not even a hello?" Alastor asks, faux innocence coloring his tone as his head tilts to an unnatural angle.
Husk obediently grumbles out a gruff greeting as he ensures the salted rim is still presentable, setting it next a shaker with liquid waiting to be poured.
Lucifer rolls his eyes, angling himself slightly to ensure Alastor sees it, and frowns. "What are you even doing here?"
"Why, my broadcast just ended! I thought I'd mosey down to the bar for a nightcap."
Lucifer squints at the demon, distrust rolling off him in waves. He's heard Husk complain plenty of times that Alastor keeps the hotel's best whiskey in his own room, so there's no reason for Alastor to come all the way down to the bar just for that.
Lucifer can't help but inwardly preen at the idea that the demon has truly come down just to bother him. Alastor is clever, petty, and unafraid to go toe to toe with the devil himself. He is, shockingly, somehow also a gentleman and surprisingly considerate toward the rare few he deems worthy of being considered allies.
Lucifer hopes Alastor considers him somewhere near the realm of ally territory by now. In one breath, Alastor is able to succinctly tear into an insecurity Lucifer's been harboring for decades, then in the same moment pass him a cup of coffee that is so well curated to his tastes it's as if Lucifer made it himself.
Unfortunately, the contradictions in Alastor's behavior have caused Lucifer to realize that Alastor is, in fact, a person - not just some hidiously evil being who only does evil things. The realization has had the awful side effect of Lucifer's stupid heart doing flips whenever the demon is in his general vicinity. Not to mention the fact that he's grown to enjoy poking at Alastor just as much as the demon does him, much to Charlie's dismay.
Which, speaking of, he is about to do now. Sorry Husk.
Lucifer raises an eyebrow. "Oh really? I -"
The main door creaks open, cutting off Lucifer's retort and what was most likely the start of yet another argument. Husk visibly perks up as Angel enters, despite the apparent sourness of the spider's demeanor.
A pang of sadness tugs at Lucifer as he watches Angel angrily stalk toward the bar, the all too familiar feeling of regret making itself home in the pit of his stomach. After all, he is ultimately the reason people like Angel are stuck in terrible situations they don't deserve.
Despite what the masses may think of him, Lucifer isn't really into the whole 'suffer for all of eternity to atone for your sins' shtick, at least for most sinners. He doesn't need to pluck Angel's file from the aether to know that his sins don't warrant anywhere near this level of suffering.
Angel plops onto the empty stool severing as a buffer between Alastor and Lucifer, shoulders slumping as he leans on the bar. Up close, Lucifer is able to take in the matted fur and running mascara, along with the mottled bruising around his neck.
Husk gently slides a bubbly, light pink drink toward Angel's seat. "Rough night?"
"Can't talk about it." Angel states, staring blankly into the liquor now in front of him.
Manicured pink nails slowly reach out to the glass. Lucifer's brain jumps into overdrive, contemplating the best way to extract himself from the situation and give them some privacy without being rude. The fingers freeze just before they touch the glass though, Angel's posture suddenly going rigid as the spider gives Husk a wild look.
"Wait! Holy shit," Angel starts, letting out a disbelieving laugh. "I can talk about it. Val is an idiot."
Husk sends a wary glance in Alastor's direction before mustering up an encouraging grin for Angel. "He's never not an idiot. What did that asshole do this time?"
"Vox had him give me an order, but Val didn't say I couldn't tell you all about it when he ordered me!" Angel explains, visibly getting more excited.
Alastor rests his head on his palm, interest piqued. "Come now, don't keep us in suspense. What atrocity does that insipid television want you to commit against the hotel this time?"
Angel hesitates, shame creeping back into his expression as he vaguely waves in Lucifer's direction. "They want me to convince short king to download their new dating app so that Vox can catfish him."
Husk gapes in shock, looking more emotive that Lucifer has ever seen him, which is rather concerning. Alastor, on the other hand, starts cackling, practically doubling over from the force of it.
Lucifer blinks. "They want to what me?"
"He wants to create a fake profile and trick you into falling for him so he can, ya know, blackmail you and stuff."
Wait a minute. He's definitely heard about that before. "Like the show?"
Angel nods. "Bingo! They're airing a new season of Catfish: Hell's Edition. I'm pretty sure that's where he got the idea in the first place."
Huh. Well, it's not like it's the first time a sinner has attempted to blackmail him. This wouldn't even be the hundredth. The dating app angle is definitely a new one though. Ozzie will find it hilarious, once Lucifer gets around to answering his backlog of unread messages.
Soft clinking recaptures his attention, as Angel nervously taps the side of his glass with his nails. "Would you maybe consider doing it? It would make my life a helluva lot easier if you made him think you fell for it. Only for like a day, then you could delete it."
Angel is hunched over and staring into his drink again, clearly feeling guilty for even asking. Lucifer hates it. He hates having to watch one of Charlie's friends, someone who he's grown to like, be forced to humiliate themselves for their soul owner like this.
He also hates to give those assholes the satisfaction of thinking they managed to trick the devil himself, but there's no question that he's going to do this for Angel.
Lucifer risks a glance at Alastor, who has stopped laughing and is now watching the exchange between the two of them intently. He wonders how Alastor would have responded if Vox was targeting him instead. Knowing Alastor, he would probably carry out some insane scheme to make Vox regret ever coming up with the idea in the first place.
Which...isn't a bad idea actually. A new way to approach this slowly starts to form in his head. Maybe he can do this for Angel, and make a fool of the stupid television guy in the process.
Decision made, he sends a winning smile Angel's way. "Of course I can. I won't just talk to him for a day either, I'm going to catfish him!"
Angel stares at him, the incredulity plain in his expression. "Uh, short king, I hate to break it to ya, but it's not catfishing if he knows it's you."
Lucifer waves away the concern. "Sure, but I'll be the one playing him. You know, stand him up on a date, ask him to send me an embarrassing picture then not send one back, that sort of thing."
Angel bites his lip, concern all over his face. "He'll probably be attempt to spy on you through your phone camera once he has access through the app. You shouldn't keep it downloaded for longer than an hour."
"He won't be able to do anything to my phone," Lucifer states confidently. "Ozzie made it, and they take that sort of the very seriously in Lust. It's warded by not only him, but me. Box isn't the first sinner to try and steal my information before. Even if he is able to access the camera, he won't be able to see anything without my magic flipping the metaphorical switch to allow it."
Alastor claps, just slow enough to sound demeaning and cause Lucifer's left eye to twitch. "This is starting to sound entertaining. I do believe I'll provide my assistance!"
Lucifer leans back so that he can level the demon with an unimpressed glare around Angel. "I didn't hear anyone asking."
Alastor's grin grows. "Not yet, but you'll clearly need help to pull off this scheme of yours. Not only are you woefully out of date with the political and social landscape of Hell these days, but you can't even get his name right."
Lucifer can get that guy's name right, but it's so much more satisfying to be in the habit of saying it wrong. No reason to let that little tidbit of information out though, he can only imagine Charlie's disappointed expression if that made it's way to her.
"Besides, " Alastor continues, "I've known the man for years. I know just how to get under his skin."
Angel gives a considering hum. "Smiles makes a good point."
Ugh. While he hates the idea of having to rely on Alastor's input, he does want this to work. He's heard Angel gossip about Vox and Alastor's long-standing rivalry with Cherri before. Having someone who is well acquainted with Vox could, unfortunately, be the key to making sure Lucifer doesn't accidentally fuck this up.
Lucifer sighs. "Fine, whatever. We can scam him together."
"Delightful! Now, before we get any further, we need to wrap up our loose ends. Angel, let's make a deal."
Lucifer startles as a low growl comes from Husk. "Angel, do not make a deal with him."
Alastor clicks his tongue. "Don't be so rash Husker. I, unlike Valentino, am thorough. I merely want Angel to agree that he will not state any of what we discussed this evening, nor report any of my or Lucifer's activities to the Vees when asked."
Husk averts his eyes, though his tail is still swishing angrily behind him. Lucifer can understand the sentiment, but Alastor has a good point. If one of the Vees orders an update, their whole plan would be rendered useless.
Angel takes his drink and downs all of it in one go, turning and squaring his shoulders at Alastor. "What do I get in exchange?"
Lucifer's jaw tightens, eyes flicking over to Alastor to gauge his reaction. His fingers tingle as his magic prepares to provide damage control if Alastor takes the question as a sign of disrespect. Alastor doesn't seem angry though. His head tilts to the side at an angle too far to be comfortable, assessing Angel as if he has done a particularly interesting trick.
"And what do you consider a fair trade for your silence?" Alastor asks.
"I don't care if it's you or short king over there, but I want one of you to pay the fee to have my services for the entire weekend at the end of the month, so that I can get a break from work." Angel says, holding out his hand.
Alastor straightens his neck, staring at Angel, but the spider doesn't back down or look away.
Alastor nods, seemingly satisfied, and firmly grasps Angel's hand in his. "It's a deal!"
Green symbols float around the two as Alastor's magic seals the agreement. Lucifer can taste the earthiness of Alastor's magic lingering the back of his tongue as they fade away. Ew.
Angel immediately gets to business, turning to Lucifer and holding a hand out for his phone. Lucifer politely passes it over without mentioning the slight tremor of Angel's hand. Not many people have the balls to stand up for themselves like that, to an overlord even, and Lucifer respects it.
Apparently, Alastor does too. The demon stands behind Angel, looking down over his shoulder as he downloads the app and starts making the account. Clearly able to take in the shakiness of Angel's fingers as they type on the screen, yet no snarky quip in sight. Color Lucifer impressed.
Angel flashes the screen toward him. "What do you want your username to be?"
Lucifer's mind goes completely, devastatingly blank. It feels like he's never thought of a single word in his entire life. He hates being put on the spot. He can feel his anxiety sky rocketing the longer Angel patiently waits with his fingers hovering over the keys. All that talk, and he falters at the first step of the plan?
Alastor leans over to catch Lucifer's gaze, his smile full of sharp teeth. "What about duck confit?"
Angel snorts. Lucifer flips Alastor off, the knot in his stomach starting to untangle.
"Ha ha. Hilarious, asshole." Lucifer deadpans, no real heat behind the words.
The joke did make him less nervous about picking a name though. Ducks. He can do wordplay with ducks. He's named every duck he's ever made and has a few dozen scripts for duck-based plays hidden somewhere in his room. He can do this.
"What about king of the pond? All one word, lowercase." Lucifer suggests, only a trace of hesitation making its way into his voice.
He expects judgmental laughter, but none comes. Angel just nods and types while Alastor watches him with that infuriating grin he always wears. Husk is angrily cleaning glasses behind the bar, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.
"What's your preference?" Angel asks.
"My preference?" Lucifer echoes, a little lost.
Angel gestures with one of his lower arms. "Guys, gals, whatever floats your boat. I know ya used to have a wife, but I didn't want to assume."
Used to have a wife. A definitive use of the past tense, when Lucifer hasn't even admitted that to himself yet. He somehow manages to swallow around the lump stuck in his throat, spinning his wedding ring absently.
"Ah, I don't really have a preference, I guess. I'm fine with whatever as long as I vibe with their personality and we get along."
Angel nods. "Alright, we'll put pansexual for now."
Lucifer vaguely remembers the term from a seminar Ozzie convinced him to attend about a decade ago. Seems fitting enough. Lucifer's too old to care, let alone bother to keep up with the latest trendy vocabulary for those things.
"Done. What should we say your looking for in a partner?"
Lucifer blinks. This whole profile thing is a lot more detailed than he expected. It's not like he's put a lot of thought into this any in the past century. Describing what drew him to Lily would probably be the easiest.
"Uh, I prefer my partners to be tall. Um. A little intimidating. Charismatic, funny, witty. Cares about how they present themself. Someone who doesn't mind just sharing a space together."
Lucifer's mouth shuts with an audible click of his teeth, mortification welling up at his own rambling. His answer doesn't even matter. He could literally just make shit up, so why is he taking this so seriously?!
Angel is attempting to subtlety catch Husk's gaze. Which is extremely unsubtle, because the bartender is resolutely ignoring him in favor or wiping an already clean glass. Shit, did he say something weird? He tries to mentally go over his list, but everything sounds normal to him. His eyes flick to Alastor, who looks as smug as a cat who caught a canary.
Fuck. He definitely said something weird. Better to change the subject, than linger on whatever it was.
He clears his throat. "Uh, any other questions?"
Angel scrolls for a moment. "Let's just put in some hobbies and skip to adding a profile picture."
Right. Hobbies. He has totally normal hobbies. Ones that don't involve spending hours making ducks or rotting in his bed. He tries to think back to a time when he wasn't constantly fatigued and had an interest is doing things he enjoyed.
"I play music, the violin and fiddle, mostly. I enjoy art and reading when I have the time. I also like baking and uh....crafting." He trails off at the end, realizing that he's giving another answer that is far more detailed than Angel actually requires.
This must be another form of punishment from Heaven. He feels like an idiot. At least Angel isn't giving him any weird looks after that one though, and the embarrassing interview is now over.
Angel hands him his phone back. "Now, you just need to pick a profile picture, obviously with nothing identifying."
Lucifer scrolls through the endless pictures of rubber ducks and Charlie on his camera roll until he comes across one that's a small yellow duck wearing a little sailor's hat, and selects it.
"Now what?"
Angels examines the picture and hums his approval. "Now, we wait. I'll send Vox a text with your username."
Lucifer slips the phone into his pocket and hops off the stool. After that mortifying ordeal, he is ready for some much needed alone time.
Angel gets out of his seat much more gracefully, pulling Lucifer into a hug that startles out a surprised squeak, oddly similar to the sound his rubber ducks make.
"Thank you, for doing this for me. It means a lot."
Lucifer doesn't really know what to do with that much sincerity. He awkwardly pats Angel on the back.
"No problem, you know me, I'm always happy to help Charlie's friends."
Thankfully, Angel releases him and focuses his energy back on Husk. Lucifer hopes that their ensuing fight over his deal with Alastor is one that leads to understanding, rather than driving the two apart.
A hand lands on his back, steering him away from the bar and toward the elevator. Lucifer could easily put a stop to it, but Husk and Angel need the space, so he allows himself to be directed without any fuss.
Well, no physical fuss, at least. His mouth is almost incapable of remaining shut when provided with the opportunity to annoy Alastor.
"Where do you think you're taking me, bellhop?"
Alastor's stride doesn't falter, confident as always. Lucifer wishes he hated that more than he actually does.
"Why, we need discuss strategy! Preferably somewhere private."
Lucifer rolls his eyes, but allows himself to be led into the elevator. "It's two in the morning, do you really think he's going to send a message?"
Alastor selects the button for their floor. "Not think, know. Probably before the elevator even reaches our stop."
His phone vibrates in his pocket. Lucifer's fingers twitch, but he refuses to give Alastor the satisfaction of him checking the damn thing before they even get to their floor.
The elevator doors open, and Alastor once again leads him, this time in the direction of Lucifer's room. For a guy who hates touch, he sure seems to have no problem putting his hands on others. Then again, what does it say about Lucifer himself that he's allowing it? Best to bury that train of thought before it can get started.
Together they stop outside his door. A bark of laughter escapes from Alastor.
"Cute. Did you really think this would keep me out?" Alastor says, tapping the sign with his cane.
Lucifer tries to reach for inner patience as the words on his sign change to say Alastors Allowed, traces of earthy magic once again coating his tongue. They need to be civil, for Angel's sake.
As soon as Lucifer's hand touches the handle of his door, the current state of his room hits him like a whirlwind. He cannot let Alastor see the condition of his room, the demon has already gotten plenty of fodder for jokes from this evening as is.
"Just give me one second." Lucifer says, rushing inside and slamming the door shut behind him.
Piles of ducks are everywhere. There's almost no available space to sit or stand. When had it gotten this full?
With a snap, Lucifer sends the majority of them to an additional storage room in the palace, leaving only a few scattered around. Magic washes over the furniture, clearing away dust and making it shine. Fresh sheets and blankets cover his bed as the old ones teleport to the hotel laundry room. Giving the room another once-over, he deems his living space presentable enough for company.
He turns and opens the door. Alastor doesn't seem to have moved, standing with his hands tucked behind his back and a polite smile on his face.
"You can come in now." Lucifer says, as if it isn't obvious.
Alastor steps past the threshold, curious eyes eagerly taking in the details of Lucifer's living space.
"If I open up your closet, will I be buried by a mountain of hastily hidden rubber ducks?"
Lucifer rolls his eyes. "Feel free to try it and find out."
If Alastor so much as touches the closet handle, Lucifer will immediately open a portal to the storage room that is currently holding the majority of his ducks, just to see the look on the demon's face when the avalanche of them falls out and hopefully suffocates him.
Unfortunately, Alastor seems content to keep his hands to himself, heading straight to Lucifer's coffee table and making himself comfortable on the plush white couch. Lucifer's chest squeezes at the sight.
He shoves the feeling away. Determined to not make it weird, he hurries over the the couch. Taking a seat on the adjacent cushion, Lucifer pulls out his phone and taps the notification for Vox's message.
"I told you so." Alastor sing songs, making Lucifer's teeth clench together.
"Whatever, let's just read it." Lucifer says, holding his phone between them.
sharklover69: I like your duck. ;)
Horrifically, he finds the message somewhat charming, despite being well aware that it is coming from a person trying to manipulate him. He side-eyes Alastor, trying to gauge his reaction, only to let out a wheeze when he realizes that the demon is staring at him with a completely unimpressed look.
"You like that he complimented the duck, don't you." Alastor states, judgement oozing out of him.
Lucifer can feel the tips of his ears turning gold. "Shut the fuck up, I'm not that easy."
Except that sadly, apparently he is. Fuck, he really needs to leave his room more often, if the bar has gotten this low. Honestly, after what happened with the username earlier, he should have resigned himself to the fact that he'll be floundering throughout this whole process. Lucifer can only hope he's prepared for the emotional damage he's probably going to experience from this.