Chapter Text
Lucifer was having a bad day. It wasn't the worst kind of bad, he'd gotten out of bed and joined his daughter for breakfast but he was feeling pretty sad. He'd tried some self care afterwards, took a long bubble bath, lounged in his favorite fluffy robe while his nail polish dried. He'd added some extra sparkle to his makeup. But still he felt like the walls were closing in on him and like all the realms were about to come crashing down on his head.
There was only one thing left to do!
Lucifer didn't bother with actual clothes, instead he left his room in his robe, nothing underneath but his pink panties and the fuzzy slippers on his dainty hooves. He took the back stairs down to the basement, to the one place Alastor would be this early in the day.
As expected, there Al was, in his private gym room. He wore only a pair of deliciously tight gym shorts, his muscles glistening in the low light from his morning workout. He looked up sharply at the sound of the door opening to glare at whoever dared to intrude on his sacred pump time, but his features softened some when he saw it was Lucifer. As much as his chiseled face could be soft anyways.
Alastor’s presence made Lucifer’s silly little heart flutter like a small tit in a clear puddle after a warm spring rain. It turned his knees to jelly every time the demon was in any state of undress or when he looked at the little ange’s tiny frame in that particular covetous way. He always looked so good, but especially when he was working out, all that raw power on display. He was thorough in his training, this was no amateur hour. He typically started out with a thorough warm up, followed by strength training - bench press, deadlifts, weighted squats. The full nine yards and then some, not that Lucifer understood most of it, he wasn’t much for exercise and all the different equipment and regiments were so very confusing. Alastor was meticulous in his every move, purposeful and controlled, just like in all other areas of his life. It was a feast for the eyes, a symphony of the flesh.
And Lucifer was the only one who would ever see him in his true glory, the only one allowed the privillage.
Alastor quirked a brow at Lucifer when the angel didn’t say anything for some time.
“Mnot feeling too hot” Lucifer mumbled in response and moved into the larger man’s personal space with no fear. He hid his face in the crook of his neck.
Strong, rippling muscles, slick with sweat buffeted Lucifer’s slender form as Alastor’s arms encircled him. The heat of his body was intense but soothing to the little angel’s gentle soul. He was lifted effortlessly into the demon’s lap, where he curled up like a spoiled cat to bask in the comfort of the embrace.
“Mon petit ange, you should have sought me out sooner.”Alastor murmured while gently stroking Lucifer's silky soft hair.
“Thought I could handle it myself. I should be able to.” the angel whispered, pouting.
“You don't have to struggle alone, doux petit coeur, you're not alone anymore. You can lean on me, always.”
“But you're busy, and I know you hate being interrupted when you're here.”
“If it's you, it's never a bother. What point is there, to building up my power, if I cannot shelter the one most precious to me?”
It was no effort for Alastor to get up, Lucifer’s petite frame adding no strain to the task. He pulled them both through shadow and carefully deposited his cargo to sit on the edge of the bathtub, before turning on the faucet.
“Would you like to have a bath with me, my pretty little swan?” Alastor crooned, while turning on the faucet. “Or do you prefer to sit there, all pretty, and watch?”
Lucifer blushed brightly and fiddled with the edge of his robe. He’d already showered today and didn’t feel like getting wet again, but he loved the feel of Alastor’s wet skin against his, the slight scrape of his strong callused hands as they rubbed away the stress of the day. Then again, he was bundled up all cozy now.
“I’ll help wash your back.” Lucifer offered, hoping Alastor wouldn’t be disappointed.
A pleased, bassy sound rumbled in the other’s chest, clearly quite happy with that plan and Lucifer felt his heart stutter-step with unbridled joy at having pleased his lover, even if he was not in his best state. He watched with bated breath as Alastor removed the last vestige of clothing and lowered himself with a predator’s grace in the tub. The steam from the water curled around his glistening pecks, his eyes closing in bliss at heat. Lucifer stared transfixed at the way that strong physique relaxed, strain from the earlier exercise melting off Alastor’s frame.
Lucifer gingerly lowered his tiny hooves to the floor, careful not to slip on the tile. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on the Radio Demon, but knew how clumsy he could be in his haste. Slowly he made his way to the head of it and let the bathrobe fall off his slender shoulders so it wouldn’t get in his way. His tiny hands quickly made their way to broad shoulders, kneading the prominent muscles there, reveling in the feel of them in his palms.
Alastor sighed in pleasure and leaned forward to allow his angel better access to his back. A shadow tendril passed along the bar of soap for Lucifer, who promptly got to work lathering the vast expanse of skin. Slow, gentle movements that allowed his mind to wonder with no direction, taking him away from all negative thoughts. All that existed was the steam and the heat from his demon’s body. His world narrowed down to only that and whatever troubles he’d had before getting here were quickly swept away in the joy of being close to his favorite soul. He didn’t even notice when gentle smooth jazz started playing, adding to the peaceful ambiance. His demon always knew what he needed.
Lucifer didn’t know how long he spent on running his hands over Alastor. At some point the demon had leaned back, letting him wash the rest of him and the angel had had to steel himself, lest he do something impulsive like diving into the tub head first. If he did that it would completely derail Alastor’s schedule and Lucifer would hate to be more of a bother to the demon than he already was.
Long, slender fingers began carding through his hair, Alastor instinctively knowing which way Lucifer’s mind was heading and immediately acting to sooth him. More often than anything else, his angel needed protection from himself.
“Thank you.” Lucifer whispered almost reverently, before moving further down to wash those near endless, powerful legs.
“Anything for you, my little sparkling.” Alastor assured, letting out another pleased rumble at Lucifer’s ministrations, which rattled the smaller one’s bones.
It was getting close to lunch time, so they wrapped up the bath and much to Lucifer's eternal chagrin, Alastor got dressed. It always felt like such a loss when that gorgeous body was packed away behind the layers of clothes.
“Are you feeling better now, dove.” Alastor asked, buttoning up his sleeves.
“Yep” Lucifer popped the p on that and walked closer to help button up the demon’s coat. “I always feel better when I'm with you.”
Alastor smiled down at him and Lucifer felt himself blush again, but wasn't given time to do so, as the demon bent down to kiss him stupid. To Lucifer it felt like forever and no time at all, powerful arms squishing the air out of him while warm lips stole it away. He held on for dear life to bulging biceps, the clothes concealed them from sight but not touch. Not this close. It made Lucifer shiver.
“I will see you for lunch, dearest.” Alastor said when he finally pulled away and then he was gone in a swirl of shadow.
Lucifer swayed on his hooves, flushed from their tips all the way to the roots of his disheveled hair. He was tingly all over and giddy as anything. How had he gotten so lucky to have this awesome, amazing powerful soul care for him of all beings in creation?
With a snap of his fingers he was dressed, not his usual but a simple pair of comfortable white slacks and an apple red shirt. No need for the regalia today, he wasn't planning on leaving the hotel. He was planning however to surprise his sinner with the best dessert ever made.
——------————* * * ———————
Lucifer couldn't explain how exactly things had gone this horribly wrong if he tried. After searching online for appropriate recipes for close to an hour, and several bad starts with flour, he'd finally decided on something that should not have been all too difficult. It should have been easy. The recipe, humorously called Whiskey balls involved no actual cooking :
- 1/4 cup cocoa
- 1/4 cup light corn syrup
- 1 pound vanilla wafers, crushed until very fine
- 1/2 cup Bourbon whiskey, or whisk(e)y of your choice
- 1 cups pecans, chopped fine
- Confectioner's sugar
Mix the first five ingredients, form into balls about 1 inch across. Roll in powdered sugar.
At what point in this extremely straight forward process things had gone sideways was anyone's guess but here he was, standing at the open door and staring in disbelief as a merry, semi-sentient fire was consuming everything in proximity to the oven. Lucifer could have sworn he hadn't even touched the appliance.
And sure, whiskey was flammable and so was flour. He hasn't bothered to clean up from his previous attempts yet but this was a little extreme. In any case he was at a loss for what to do. Starting fires was very much in his wheel house. Putting them out - not so much.
“Oh my gosh, DAD!” came Charlie's voice from across the lobby.
Lucifer looked back and to his horror, it was filling up with people, all looking at him with a mix of concern and various levels of amusement. Charlie was rushing towards him, a little panicked. Vaggie, bless her and her cool headedness, was already barking orders for people to bring water.
“What happened, are you ok? Oh my gosh, why is the fire winking at me?”
A buzz of static cut through her fretting and Alastor materialized next to the two of them. He clocked his head, peering into the kitchen and burst into laughter.
“Oh, my, your Majesty, you have truly outdone yourself.” the Radio Demon quipped between peals of laughter. “Not to worry dears, I'll have this sorted in a jiff.”
He manifested his staff and with a sweeping motion a tidal wave of shadow rushed into the kitchen, smothering the flames and sucking all the debris and leftover mess from the space. The countertops closest to the oven and the fridge were nearly burned to a crisp, the fridge was singed and there was soot up the wall and on the ceiling.
Alastor’s shoes, ever shined to perfection, clicked ominously as he strode in to assess the damage. His ever present grin could cut glass. Static buzzed like an irritated hornet.
The kitchen was one of the places in the hotel that were Alastor’s dominion. The man's cooking skills were godlike, but he was also very particular, and in order to ensure continued access to his dishes, the hotel residents had agreed that it would be kept to his exact specifications and standards. Early on that had rankled Lucifer quite a bit. Now though…
Turning smartly on his heel, Alastor approached the very guilty looking king of hell and leaned down to grin menacingly right in his face.
“What, pray tell, were you attempting here sire?”
Lucifer was mortified. Alastor had been so caring and accommodating earlier and here he was, literally setting all that up in flames. He wanted to run, to disappear. He wanted for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
Just then, a loud boom rattled the windows. The screams of the city at large rose in volume and the number of voices, more panicked than what was usual. It sounded like the same sort of fear that gripped sinners during Extermination.
The hotel crew rushed out the door to see what was happening. High above them, a large shining portal split the sky like a nasty gash to the chest and was bleeding angels by the hundreds. It was an army much larger than any they’d seen before. At the front of it was a smaller angel with six large white and blue wings, wielding what appeared to be a burning sword. Lucifer felt his blood freeze in his veins.
Michael!
Sword of God, First of the Host, asshole extraordinaire and Lucifer's twin. The most cold and unforgiving creature in all of existence.
Lucifer yelped and threw up a barrier around the hotel at the same time Alastor thumped the butt of his mic on the ground to erect his own. They intertwined beautifully, but unfortunately they didn’t have time to admire how their powers joined together so perfectly. The angels bounced off it quite satisfyingly however.
“Lucifer, you pathetic coward. Come up here and face me” a strong and melodious voice rang through the entirety of the city. The angel with the flaming sword had landed on the barrier, the tip of his weapon pointing downward in an attempt to pierce it.
“Uuugh” Lucifer rubbed a hand down his face. “Fucking fuck. Why’s it gotta be fucking Michael?”
“Dad, what are we going to do?” Charlie fretted.
Vaggie was hurrying the rest of the residents back inside. They’d prepared for this possibility - she would lead the ones willing to fight to the armory, the rest would make their way to the underground tunnels. Already sigils were lighting up all around the city, on the sides of buildings, etched into the pavement and weaved into plant roots and cables alike. A second, much larger and much stronger barrier sprang up to meet the invading hoards and push them back. Angels smacked against it, some of them sliding down its sides. Their leader was not easily deterred and began slashing with his burning sword, slowly chipping away at the protective magics. Demons everywhere took this time to either hide or arm themselves.
Alastor sprung into action as soon as the first crack gave way, taking on his giant form quickly. Thick tentacles sprouted from his back and the ground around him. They looked much like his owner's limbs, sinuous and deadly. The low greenish glow they emitted highlighted the muscles that flexed along their entire lengths. The demon wielded them with masterful precision, plucking angels out of the sky as they rushed down at him and depositing them in the monstrous sinner's mouth.
The display made Lucifer feel heat wash over his body at the memory of how those same tentacles felt wrapped around his own delicate limbs, the way they squeezed just right, pinning him in place. It made his mouth water and he thought some drool may be running down his cheek. His whole face was glowing in an instant, but he didn't have the time to enjoy the view for long.
Michael flew in a wide arch, away from Alastor's assault and lunged straight for Lucifer, who dashed away to give himself time to summon his own sword. It was a big, cumbersome looking thing. He'd chosen the design at the start of time but now that he was looking at it it looked a lot like an oversized butter knife.
No, bad, Lucifer. Focus.
The two blades clashed with a sizzling sound. The force of Michael's attack nearly forced the weapon out of his hands. Despite being twins, Lucifer had always been weaker. He was not originally made to be a fighter, his duty had been to spread love and joy. Even so, 10 000 years in hell had made him more resilient and so for a long time he was able to hold his own. His attacks may not be as powerful but he was quicker and craftier. He just needed to get this over with and hurry back to his daughter.
By the sound of things, the battle was well and truly underway. Lucifer spared a quick glance to check if the hotel was still intact and noticed his and Alastor's barrier was still holding, which meant the residents were able to launch attacks while still avoiding danger. So while he and Al were still standing, they'd be safe.
Lucifer concentrated back on his fight, dodging and twisting out of the way. His brother snarled and chased after him, but was so far unable to cause any damage.
Good. He was doing good. Lucifer had this.
Which is when a group of exorcists he hadn't noticed lunged at him from behind a building. He was able to steer away but it gave Michael the opportunity to land a blow. The flaming sword went into Lucifer's shoulder, piercing and burning at the same time. He screamed! Then he was falling and his heart was nearly beating out of his small chest. It was like the first time all over again…
The next moment, cold, twisting shadows were engulfing him pulling him away from his attackers and soothing the burn. He found himself cradled in one familiar, red-tipped, giant, clawed hand. Gently he was lowered into Vaggie’s arms before he watched as the monstrosity that was Alastor made his way towards Michael.
The little flock of exorcists that had attacked Lucifer were quickly dealt with, swept up by one rippling tentacle and made into a crunchy, screaming snack.
Even big and eldritch like this, to Lucifer, Alastor was beautiful.
Michael was now facing the fury and madness of the Radio Demon and he looked to be on the backfoot. No matter how good you were with a sword, it was hard to keep so much shadow at bay. Add to that the quickness and precision of Alastor's physical attacks, even in his most eldritch form and the angel was clearly outmatched.
The rest of the heavenly forces were now engaged with heavily armed sinners. According to Charlie, reinforcements from the other rings had already joined the fight through the city and were keeping most of the host occupied. The small battalion attacking the hotel was still struggling with the barrier and we're forced to dodge all sorts of projectiles. Lucifer had time to heal himself before he rejoined the fighting, although he was having a hard time concentrating.
Michael was left to fend for himself. No one seemed to notice he was in a bind, too busy with their own skirmishes. And what a Bind it was, the angel was forced back with every swipe of a tentacle or claw and was beginning to slip. He was swinging his sword in ever wider and uncoordinated swipes, hoping to catch something that could burn. The shadows were uncooperative on that front. Lucifer was transfixed by the way Alastor fought, unable to stop seeing in his mind's eye the way his muscles would move with every step, every pivot or punch. He'd seen him practice in the nude. It was truly a WHAT. Lucifer had to stop his healing magics every few minutes, his mind not being able to stay on task.
Michael tried to mimic the way Lucifer had moved earlier, though it was slow and he looked a little like a duckling learning to swim, splashing about. Entirely by chance, on a very awkward looking spin he managed to nick one of Alastor's sleeves. It immediately caught on fire, and it spread fast. The demon shrunk down to his normal size and threw off the coat, ripping it off himself. In the haste, his shirt was ripped too and he flexed out of it, spinning round to once more face his foe, stance at the ready, wicked claws gleaming. The angel landed in front of him, poised to strike again and then…
Michael seemed to have been struck stupid at the sight of Alastor. He'd reverted back to his regular size to escape the flames, leaving behind the coat and shirt that were already burning off to the side. Which meant he was left in nothing but his slacks and shoes, arms and pecks glistening in the light of the burning sword of the angel before him. And Michael was very much Lucifer’s twin.
The Sword of God was standing there, arms shaking and jaw slack. For the first time in his existence he was confronted by feelings of desire. He'd never seen such a thing before, up in Heaven everyone kept themselves properly concealed. The sight before him was… Well he didn't have the words. He could never have imagined how much effect some asking could have on him. Oh, but it was glorious skin, sun kissed and tasty looking, like fresh caramel. And it covered such a shapely expanse of powerful muscle and sinew. The sinner wasn't even moving, just standing there, poised to strike like a graceful predator. Michael felt his knees go weak with the desire to kneel and worship this specimen, who was made of nothing but strength and speed. Did he work out to keep that scrumptious physique or was he just created that way, sculpted by hands mightier than gods to be the one thing that could bring an angel of Michael's caliber to his knees?
The angel was overwhelmed with the desire to bite. He distantly heard himself make a pitiful noise at the back of his throat. What even was that? It sounded like a small, wounded animal. Michael couldn't think, he couldn't breathe. He felt like a leaf blown in the wind of the glory that was the muscle-y, glorious creature before him.
The sword dropped from his hands. Someone yelled something. Michael couldn't make out the words, he was too preoccupied with the thundering of his heart and the heat that was spreading from the tips of his dainty little feet up through his core and all the way to his face. He must be positively glowing with the blush. Oh, no. He was making a fool of himself, and the sinner was watching, those ruby red eyes boring into the angel's very soul. He was looking at his face, his eyes following something… Michael realized he was drooling.
“Eep” he squeaked smartly and turned around to wipe his face with his sleeve.
Alastor used this opportunity to send a few shadow tendrils out to wrap up and immobilize the angel's small body and knock the sword from his hand. The angel yelled in distress and it seemed to send a shockwave through the city. All around fighting halted as they all stopped to gawk at the scene.
By now Lucifer was feeling much better and he ran over to the two, Charlie, Vaggie and a few others hot on his heels. He stopped for a quick appreciative glance at the demon and then faced his brother, who was squirming in the tentacles’ grasp. His face was very bright gold.
“Um, Al. I think he needs to breathe.”
“I am not depriving him of oxygen, dear. Just his ability to move.”
“Why does he look like he's suffocating then?”
Alastor just shrugged one muscular shoulder and turned his attention back to his captive. Lucifer approached Michael slowly, trying to assess the situation when it suddenly hit him.
He'd seen that expression before. The two of them shared the same face after all. It was one reserved for private moments between him and…
Rage infused him and he felt his horns poking through, the fire igniting between them.
“Don't you even think about it.” Lucifer hissed. Michael's eyes grew even wider than they already were. “The demon is MINE!”
There were several choked sounds coming from behind him, but Lucifer didn't care. He had to get his stupid brother and his stupid army out of his realm this instant. And get Alastor to put something on. Actually…
Lucifer snapped his fingers, without even looking back.
“Much appreciated, your Majesty” was Alastor's amused response to being magically restored to his fully clothed state.
That seemed to return Michael to a more lucid state, but the tentacles’ vice grip on him was clearly distracting him. Lucifer couldn't blame him. It was delicious to experience. It was also one that he should be the only one who gets to enjoy, so he turned to Alastor.
“Could you drop him right, here please?” he pointed at the ground in front of him. “I got it from here.”
Alastor grinned at him knowingly, but did as he was asked. Michael was dropped in an undignified heap at Lucifer's feet and the devil was quick to grab and twist one of his brother's arms behind his back so he wouldn't get any funny ideas.
“Call off your army.” Lucifer hissed.
“But the rebellion? We can't stand down when you're attacking heaven.”
“We aren't attacking shit, Michael. Who the fuck told you that?”
“Sera. She said you killed Adam.”
“Yeah, cuz he attacked my daughter and her friends. And it was a sinner who killed him, technically.”
“Wait, your what?”
It was at this moment Charlie walked up to stand next to Al and Lucifer grabbed his hair to force his eyes towards her.
“Her. Your niece.”
Michael's jaw dropped, his eyes going wide at the site of the girl who looked so similar to himself. He hadn't known about her either. And they used to call him stupid. The audacity of him to come in here causing havoc, without even knowing something like that. And on top of it he was still trying to covertly ogle Alastor. Fat chance, Mikey, that was Lucifer’s sinner. He told him as much.
“Now call it off!”
Michael swallowed and took a deep breath. When next he spoke, his voice could be heard all around Pride.
“Heavenly host! Stand down. We are leaving. I repeat, STAND DOWN!”
The exorcists didn't look all too happy at that, but they followed the command, flying up, back to the portal they'd come through. Once the last few were far enough, Lucifer let Michael go.
“Fuck off, Mike. Try and call first next time.”
The seraphim had the grace to look guilty. He just nodded and flew up, stealing one final glance at the Radio Demon. He visibly shuddered and blushed again, before shooting up into the portal, which closed behind him. Lucifer watched the entire time to make sure they were all gone.
He turned around, planning to check on his daughter and maybe say something about pancakes again to break the tension, which is when he saw the way everyone gathered was looking between him and Alastor.
Oh.
Oh shit!
He'd really screwed the pooch on that one, hadn't he. It was supposed to be a secret. Lucifer chanced a glance at Alastor, but the demon was giving him, or anyone else for that matter, absolutely nothing. Just standing still as a statue, smile wide and eyes glazed over like he wasn't even there anymore.
Angel Dust was the one to break the sudden deafening silence.
“Sooo… Your demon you said? You tapping that?”
“Um… That's waa… I mean… “
“And who knew freaky voice was packing all a that under the coat? Is it spelled or something, Smiles? Cuz hoo boy. That shirtless moment, such big daddy vibes.”
“Angel, please. Stop.” Vaggie chimed in, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Oh, come on! Did ya see that? He's ripped.”
“I know, but it doesn't mean it's OK to comment on other people's bodies!”
“Why ain't you surprised?”
Vaggie shuffled uncomfortably in place a little and murmured something that Lucifer couldn't catch, but Angel did and it was apparently shocking. They got into a whispered bickering match. Meanwhile Charlie was looking lost as to what to do next.
Loud microphone feedback screeched through the city as every loudspeaker came to life.
“Well, ladies and gents, that was some riveting entertainment. Truly got the blood pumping. I do believe celebrations are in order after that quick and decisive victory. There will be free drinks at the Hazbin bar for all that BEHAVE!”
Husk grunted and facepalmed at that announcement, turning and trudging towards the hotel to prepare.
“The rest of you, go about your business. Salutations and goodnight!”
The broadcast cut off and Alastor finally broke his unnatural stillness. His eyes immediately landed on Lucifer.
“As for you, my dear. I believe a reminder on the importance of minding what you say is in order.”
He vanished into shadow and a moment later Lucifer felt himself being pulled under as well to the astonishment of all present. Tendrils were already winding around his arms and legs, even before he was unceremoniously dropped on the bed in Alastor's room.
Oh, he was about to be taught a lesson!
Lucifer couldn't wait.
