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Flecked with paint and more than a little put-out, Lucifer trudges back to his rooms on shuffling feet. He should have had that pumpkin-painting contest in the bag! And he did, at least until the very end. Then Alastor had swooped in a snatch victory right out of his hands.
“I must say, Lucifer,” Alastor quips, practically glowing with triumph as he trails after Lucifer, “I would have thought with all the centuries you had to practice you would be a better painter. You are quite skilled with a pencil, so it's a surprising that you were so unable to paint a—What did you say it was? An apple?”
Turning his head just enough to keep his expression hidden from Alastor’s keen eye, Lucifer rolls his eyes. “I fucked that up because of you, you know?”
You and your distracting face and annoying antics and—
“With all due respect, sire, I don’t see what that has to do with me.” Alastor crosses his arms over his chest and huffs. “It’s hardly my fault that you could not produce something that was recognizable. It's not as if I walked over and stole the brush out of your hand or sabotaged your paints.”
“No, I know that! I just—Ugh!” With a wave of his hand, Lucifer magically unlocks the door to his room. He could have also opened the door, but kicking it open with his foot is much more cathartic. It swings wide and Lucifer isn’t sure why he’s surprised that Alastor follows him into the room. He’s certainly no stranger. Not at this point.
“Just what?” Alastor asks, frustration rising in his voice. “I do not appreciate being blamed for something I have absolutely nothing to do with and—”
At his wit's end, Lucifer turns on his heel, his horns splitting the skin of his forehead at the temples and his tail lashing out behind him. Flame dancing on his tongue, he shouts directly in Alastor’s face. “Because I like you! Okay?!”
A screech of static feedback visibly shocks through Alastor’s body, stilling him, but Lucifer continues. The dam has been broken and there is no stopping the flood crashing through the delicate, wonderful friendship he’d spent so long building with the infuriating man in front of him. The words pour from his mouth regardless of how desperate he is to keep them in. “I blame you because when Charlie suggested we paint the pumpkins with things that bring us joy or something we’re thankful for I didn’t think of her, or this hotel, or anything that would make sense. No, I thought of you!”
Pacing around the room, Lucifer rants, “You and your stupid fucking haircut and your constant need to antagonize me. How you are always there to say some kind of snarky ass remark or push my buttons.” As he passes in front of the fireplace, it roars to light. He jumps, flinching away despite his immunity to fire. He stares in to the newly-lit flames and the wave of warm reminds him of all-too-much. He sighs, “And worse, I thought about how you are when its just us.”
He turns back to Alastor, gesturing to the couch set across from the hearth. “When we’re drinking whiskey in front of the fire in here, or when we’re enjoying a couple cigarette on the edge of your bayou, or in the rare nights that we have the staff room or kitchen to ourselves and dance to the radio.”
A bitter laugh bubbles out his throat, and he shakes his head. “Of all the sinners and Hellborn in this fucking plane, I fell for you. Someone who could never feel the same way for me that I do for you. And even if you could I have my doubts that you would even want anything to do with me. There’s no way you would ever accept that I—”
Lucifer’s eyes widen as what he’s about to say hits him and claps both hands over his mouth to stop it coming out — or at least muffle it. He feels his lips move against his palm, desperate to deliver a message to the object of all of their thoughts as of late.
I love you.
The syllables are unintelligible to Lucifer’s ears, but the weight of them has knocked him off balance. If Alastor hears the admission, he doesn’t give any reaction, only continuing to stare.
Though if Lucifer were to place himself in Alastor’s shoes, he’d have the same reaction — in fact, he is having the same reaction, because what?! Love?! In his centuries upon millennia of life, he’d only made it seven years being single before he went and fell in love again? And with Alastor of all people? What the fuck was wrong with him?
Shaking his head violently, Lucifer shuts down his spiraling thoughts and places them behind a wall in hopes that he can protect him from whatever reaction Alastor might eventually express. In the stunned silence, he scoffs and crosses his arms. "What? No witty remark? Nothing clever to say?"
Warmth pools unbidden in the corners of his eyes, but Lucifer only raises his chin higher, unwilling to back down or show more weakness than he already has. Alastor seeing him cry is nothing new. They’d spent many late nights wrapped in each other's body heat and laughing and crying over a bottle of something strong. After so many nights like those, what's another tear or two?
Several beats pass where they only stare at each other from across the room. The ribs around his heart contract painfully, squeezing tighter every second that the room remains deathly silent. The first tear swells to the point that it spills over the water line of his eye and rolls down his cheek.
“Lu—” Alastor chokes out, his hand stretching out and taking a step forward. But just as suddenly he reanimated, Alastor freezes again. He looks down at his own hand in bewilderment, and then further down at his foot that had taken that step closer. His ears press flat against his head as his brows furrow in the way they do when Alastor is confused. The same way they do when something he hadn’t been expecting occurs.
Even through the high-necked collar of his usual attire, Lucifer can see Alastor’s Adam's apple bob. The curtain of red and black hair lifts and when his face is revealed, he looks… scared?
Immediately all the fury and built up frustration in his body drains away, leaving Lucifer unsteady on his feet. He’d been expecting and angry lashing out or a disgusted rejection, but fear? His stomach twists itself in knots and he opens his mouth to speak.
He doesn’t get a single sound out though, before Alastor is raising his hand again and gesturing for him to stop.
Clamping his jaw shut despite his urge to nervously babble excuses before he make the situation worse, Lucifer waits with bated breath for Alastor to gather himself and speak.
It doesn’t take long. Assuming a proud stance with his head held high, Alastor folds his hands behind his back and says in a clear, simple tone, “No.”
Lucifer blinks. “…No?”
“No,” Alastor repeats with an assertive, affirmative nod. Then he hums and tilts his head. “Well, no and no, to be more specific.”
The urge to run is immense, but Lucifer stands his ground as Alastor eases closer. “T-that's not any more specific.”
Alastor’s permanent smile softens. “The first no is to your question regarding my witty remarks — good to know you find me clever, though.”
Something restless stirs eagerly in Lucifer’s chest as red-tipped hand comes up to cup his face, eliciting a small, disbelieving gasp.
“The second no is as in ‘no, I don't believe I am capable of returning the feelings you have’, but!” Shades of awkwardness flicker over Alastor’s face, but there's earnestness at the route of it. “I think I should be clear and let you know that I feel very much for you. More than I thought possible for myself and the most that I have felt for any being I have ever come across, human or otherwise.”
His movements are shaking and unsure, but Lucifer manages to cover Alastor’s hand with his own. Not only does Alastor not pull away, he brings his other hand in to rest delicately on the small of Lucifer’s back and guide them effortlessly closer.
“Alastor, I…” Lucifer swallows, “I don’t think you understand what you are getting into. With me, you’d— I mean I don’t — I’m not good for you, Alastor.” The tears that had welling finally slip free and roll down his cheek. “I mean I am a mess and I can’t even get out of bed most days. I’m impulsive and gullible and—”
A rumbling chuckles turns in to static and Lucifer cuts himself off. He stares in bewilderment.
Face full of amusement, Alastor swipes his thumb over Lucifer’s cheek and wipes away the tears. “Apologies for laughing, but I was under the impression that you believe in free will.”
“I… do? What?” Lucifer blinks. “What does that have to do with—”
Tugging him in by the waist, Alastor pulls their bodies close together. “Then why are your taking my will from me? Shouldn't I be the one to decide if I would like to enter a relationship with you or not?”
“I…” Lucifer’s mouth is completely dry as his brain tries to process the warmth of Alastor body pressed against his own. His heart is thudding out of chest, but judging from what he can feel, Alastor’s is too. “I guess that's right. So, uh, do you? Want to be in a relationship?”
Alastor hums, as if considering, then dips his head until they are sharing the same breathing space. “I think this will be answer enough.”
The meeting of their lips feels like the first falling of autumn leaves, gentle and filling Lucifer’s world with beautiful color. Alastor’s lips have a slightly rough texture, but Lucifer melts into them anyway with a joyous hum. He tangles his fingers in Alastor’s hair and angles his head further to allow him deeper and giggles when there's a teasing nip at his lower lip. The crinkle of giddy laughter is an audible manifestation of the word ‘finally’.
When they separate, they only drift a scant few inches apart and look deeply into each other’s eyes. Lucifer can’t help the ridiculous grin splitting his face when he asks, “So I can take that as yes, then?”