Archive of Our Own

There were a lot of things within the small-town of Hazbin that Alastor enjoyed. The layout of the traditional colonial row townhouses was perfectly secured within short white picket fences. The Perron stairs leading up to every front door, and how each one was painted a different color or styled to the personality of whoever resided within the home. That the flowers bloomed even during the winter when the snow would blanket the streets perfectly, like a classic painting or a cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie.    

Everything about Hazbin was immaculate and idyllic, and his decision to move into the quaint town five years ago from New Orleans to start anew once his mother had passed was the best decision of his life.    

But it was the small things that made his life so effortless and fruitful, such as his normal morning routine. He’d open a butcher shop on Main Street, quickly gaining a positive reputation with the townsfolk and easily earning a living, where he’d been able to afford moving out of an apartment and purchase his townhouse three years ago. There, he met his neighbors: a lovely queer couple to his left, Anthony and Husker, who often visited his shop for the specials and sometimes traded goods from their liquor store. And to his right was his favorite person in all of town.    

Little Charlotte Morningstar.   

The eight-year-old child had captivated his attention when he happened to bump into her hiding in a bush on her first day of kindergarten. She’d been crying, nervous that she wouldn’t make any friends, and how her mother had tried to comfort her before she was supposed to walk to school on her own. It was unspoken, but the darling was dealing with far more than first day-of-school nerves, knowing that once she was home, her mother was moving out of the house due to her parents’ divorce.    

While Alastor found it odd that such a young child would be expected to walk herself to school, he quickly learned that Hazbin was a unified community that worked to protect children and raise them together, so all the children were taught to walk to school without the need of an adult. For Alastor, the matter was still not something he fully agreed with, but he had come from a city known to be a tad less safe. Still, once he bent down to check on the girl, he offered her a hand and escorted her to school.   

Thus began his favorite morning routine.    

Alastor exited his house, knowing that Charlotte was attempting to be sneaky, looking out her window. The pattering of her feet was his warning, and he locked the door, descended the stairs, and waited at the end of her doorway on the sidewalk.    

“Good morning, Mr. Alastor!” she cheerfully proclaimed, waving widely before skipping down the stairs to stand beside him.    

“Good morning, Charlotte. My, is that a new headband? The large bow looks lovely with your hair.”    

She smiled brilliantly, the glow of her eyes glistening against the shining sun, even during the start of winter approaching. “Thanks! My friend Vaggie got it for me.”    

“Oh yes, Vaggie. I’m so happy you two met. I’m certain you’re welcoming her into town just as you did me.”    

“She’s so much fun! We have been playing a lot during recess and...” But she stopped speaking as someone from within her home shouted her name in a rush.    

“Charlie! Wait, sweetie, you forgot your lunch!” A man, short and narrowly reaching the height of Alastor’s shoulders, ran down the stairs, barely put together in his suit, and his hair visibly not brushed. He halted, breathing heavily as if he’d run a triathlon, placing a hand on Charlotte’s head and giving her the glitter-covered rainbow lunchbox.    

“Thanks, Dad.” She looked up to her father with such admiration and praise; the man immediately beamed at the small gesture. That was until he looked up, eyes locking with Alastor’s, and groaning loudly.    

“Hartfelt...”    

“Morningstar...”    

There was one problem with Charlotte that Alastor couldn’t ignore: her annoying, arrogant, and idiotic father – Lucifer Morningstar. He couldn’t remember exactly what led to his distaste for the man, but over the course of the three years he had lived next door, the two had become like oil and water. There was a lingering dislike of the other, trying to be respectful in front of Charlotte, but both unknowingly failing every time.    

“I see you look as radiant as ever for work,” Alastor said with a slither against his tongue to showcase his disapproval.    

“Well, not everyone has a job that their looks can easily be as lackluster as yours.” He smiled, the twitch holding at its edges.    

“Um... I’m gonna be late,” said Charlotte.   

“Oh! Right. Go, go,” replied Lucifer, bending to kiss her forehead before providing one more glare at Alastor and reentering his home.    

Alastor rolled his eyes, but quickly returned his attention to Charlotte, making their way toward the elementary school. He closed his coat against him and scanned Charlotte to make sure she was well equipped for the cold front. Luckily, she’d been wearing a heavy puffer jacket, gloves, and he could see the earmuffs through her clear backpack. He tightened his own scarf as they made their way through the neighborhood.    

“Mr. Alastor,” she began. “Can I ask you a question I have been wondering about for a long time?”    

“Of course. You can ask me anything, but I can refrain from answering if need be.”    

She pondered for a moment, but then dove into her question. “Why do you hate my dad?”   

“I will not be answering that question.” He narrowed his eyes, now realizing he’d left his to-go cup of black coffee on the counter and wishing he had something to chug down.    

Charlotte laughed into her gloves. “You both are so silly. It's so weird how you both act.”    

“It is not funny. Your father is a rather pompous man who has been nothing but a thorn in my side since we met.”    

“Pompous?” she asked, confused about the meaning of the word.    

“Just trust me... I am right.”    

“Okay...” She adjusted her backpack, gripping tightly to her lunchbox in one hand and her eyes trailing into a thought she wouldn’t speak.    

“Charlotte... what are you thinking? I know that face.”    

She panicked, eyes wide and guilty. “Wh-what? Nothing! Just about school and winter break.”    

Alastor raised an eyebrow, refusing to believe her, but decided to play along. “Oh yes, winter break. Are you excited about taking time off from school?”    

“I am! I’m gonna miss Vaggie a lot, but I’m going to be with mom for Christmas, and I’ll be with dad on New Year's.”    

“A world-class traveler. Where is your mother now?”    

“Spain! But for Christmas, she will be in France, and she’s going to take me to all the stops that week. I am so excited for the bread! Do you like bread?”    

“Of course. And I hear the bread in France is some of the best. Délicieux pain.”    

Charlotte stopped walking and looked at Alastor with starry eyes. “You speak French? Can you show me some words before I go on my trip?”    

He couldn’t help but laugh at the puppy eyes and little pout from the child. “We can do some French lessons moving forward.”    

She clapped in delight, running up to hug his long legs and giggle. “You’re the best!”    

He patted her blonde hair and sighed. This young girl held a special place in his heart that he had lost the day his mother passed away. A reminder of what pure, innocent, unfiltered love could feel like, simply from a bond that couldn’t be explained. Somehow, she filled the void left within him; the last trail of darkness and the light of new life.    

He figured dealing with her father was worth whatever joy he could give her in return.    

#   

“Ugh!” shouted Lucifer with various shopping bags in his hand as he slipped away and down the stairs. “Come on!” He continued to try to open the front door with the key in his hand while not losing more bags to gravity.    

The sight was painful to watch, and, by the grace of God, Alastor decided not to stand back and let this tiny man continue to suffer. “Move out of the way,” he said, pushing past Lucifer. “Give me those.” He snatched the keys away from Lucifer and unlocked the door for him. “There.”    

Lucifer squinted, a growl on his throat, as he walked in, knocking over one more stack of items down the stairs, as his width was wider than the doorframe. Alastor slapped a hand over his face and turned around to grab the fallen items before stepping into the Morningstar home to leave them at the doorway. “Your keys,” he said, holding them at the edge of his fingertip.    

Lucifer nabbed them after dropping everything to the floor and motioning Alastor back to the outside. “I didn’t need your help.”    

“I think you very much did.”    

Lucifer grimaced, disgusted at the sight of the butcher, yet not having a retort. “Whatever… you can leave.”   

Alastor pivoted, more annoyed than anything else. “You’re the most frustrating…” but he continued down the stairs until there was a hiccup that escaped Lucifer’s lips. He turned around, matching the single father’s eyes and holding it with a scowl.   

“Thank you…” Lucifer whispered, exhaling through his nose as if the words were bile on his lips.   

“You’re welcome.” Alastor turned to leave, but the curiosity of the matter was taking over him. “What are you doing with all those bags? And at this hour?”   

“Aren’t you supposed to be running a shop?”   

“Don’t reply with questions. I asked first.”   

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “I took my lunch break to buy Christmas gifts. Hard to do when Charlie is home all the time and I don’t exactly have a babysitter.”   

“How do you not have a babysitter?”   

“I don’t. I know I can pay for one, but I don’t like it. I prefer to be with Charlie.”   

“But it’s for Charlotte…” he replied with confusion. 

“I used my lunch break! Why is that not a good enough answer for you?”   

Alastor raised an eyebrow. The high pitch of Lucifer's voice gave something away. A little bit of guilt behind his statement and something straining between his eyes. “Fine. I guess that’s fair.” He turned to leave, nearly tapping his feet against the sidewalk and up the steps to his home. He stopped at his doorway and took a long, deep, regretful breath before turning to Lucifer. “I can do it… If you ever need a babysitter. I can watch her, if it’s alright.”   

The man looked over to him. His eyes glimmered blue as if reflecting the sky and its effortless clouds. “You can?”   

“Charlotte and I get along, and I don’t mind much.”    

“Okay… alright… I’ll keep that in mind. Can I have your number?”   

“No. Just knock on my door and let me know at least a day ahead.” He put his key in the lock and opened it. “Farewell, Morningstar.” He walked into his home and closed it before he could take back his word.   

#   

The shop was busy as usual for a Saturday. He often took Sundays and Mondays off after closing early most Saturdays, but with the holiday season approaching, many were coming in to do preorders. He turned to his assistant, Niffty, and handed her another form, and she scampered to file it in the binder to complete it closer to the date.   

The bell above the door chimed, and his favorite little voice sang as she came in. “Mr. Alastor! We’ve come for chicken!”    

He laughed, turning to wave at her kindly, removed his apron, and walked around the counter. “My, my… Charlotte. What meal are you preparing that you came to get some chicken?”   

“Merry Me Chicken,” she replied happily and then turned to her father. “Dad’s specialty.”   

“Interesting.” He looked up to see Lucifer, drowning in his winter coat and scarf. Nearly all his blonde hair was bundled within a beanie in the design of a duck face.    

“I swear it’s good,” replied Lucifer. “Three pounds please, and to make our holiday preorder.”    

“Of course. I’ll get the form.” He walked away, but Charlotte followed closely, not even flinching at the idea of walking behind the counter without permission.   

Admittedly, she didn’t need it.   

Lucifer dragged his feet but stopped in front of the display case, looking at all the meats in deep contemplation. “What roast do you recommend this season?”   

“The pork is selling well, but the beef is of a much higher quality,” he replied as Charlotte hugged Niffty and accepted a lollipop that was offered. She popped it into her mouth and returned to Alastor’s side.   

“The beef sounds good. Charlie! Beef roast with veggies and roasted potatoes?”   

She stuck out her tongue in a bit of disgust. “I prefer mashed potatoes.”   

He laughed to himself. “I guess I can do that. I’ll take a five-pound roast for that evening.”   

Alastor wrote down the order on the paper, not needing to ask for the other information as he’d already known it.    

Lucifer continued speaking to his daughter. “Anything else you want?”   

“Cake!”   

“As if I wasn’t going to make cake.” He laughed to himself.   

Alastor grunted under his breath.    

Charlotte giggled. “Mr. Alastor doesn’t like sweets.”   

“Oh?” Lucifer looked up from the case, capturing Alastor’s eyes for a moment through the glass and watching him as if trying to be coy but not denying he was staring.    

“Never liked it. I much prefer savory foods.”   

“What’s the point of savory foods if you can’t balance them with some sweets?”   

“I promise you, my palette does not miss it…” But his words trailed off. It wasn't completely true. There was something sweet he missed, especially this time of year.    

He hadn't realized his eyes were glossing over, staring at nothing, but pointedly in the direction of Lucifer. When he returned to his senses, he shook his head of the thought, cleared his throat, and returned to the form. “Would you like it on the twenty-third or the morning of the twenty-fourth?”    

“Neither,” Lucifer replied somberly, almost careful and empathetic. “I need it the evening of the nineteenth.”   

“Why…” But then he remembered what Charlotte had told him. “Of course… I will have it ready by six PM. Does that work? Or I can bring it with me and deliver it.”    

“I'll pick it up. Thanks.”    

“Lovely. A twenty percent deposit is due, and the rest can be paid on the day of.”    

There was a stillness to Lucifer's standing. A spark of knowing without knowing between them, as if their emotions understood each other without having to fully speak.   

It was remorse — a sadness so deep that only one who experienced it could understand, yet the intensity and specifics were left unspoken but knowingly different.   

Lucifer approached the counter to pay with his card, and Alastor moved about the motions without thinking. He was taking it one step at a time, getting the transaction completed without being mentally present. It wasn't until Charlie tugged at his pant leg that he returned, noticing only then that his fingers were grazing against Lucifer's as he handed back his card.    

He muttered nonsense, pulling his hand away as he looked down at the girl. “Need something?”    

“The chicken,” she reminded him.    

He blinked, nearly confused until he remembered. “Oh! Yes! Sorry.” But Niffty came to his rescue and handed the meat to Lucifer with a wide and nearly unscrupulous smile. “I-I guess that is all. A pleasure to see you, Charlotte. Have a wonderful weekend. Monday?”    

She nodded her head and skipped around the counter back to her father. She took his hand and the two left the shop, but not until Lucifer looked back for a singular moment and softly smiled. “Thank you, Alastor.”    

The bell rang again, and they exited the shop, only for Alastor to watch the pair pass by the window in their little bubble of happiness. It took everything within Alastor not to feel jealous. To have such a strong bond as he once had.    

“You forgot to charge them for the chicken,” said Niffty, breaking his concentration.    

“What? Damn it!” But he didn't run after them, allowing the mistake to go unresolved. After all, he couldn't stop thinking about them leaving.   

It had been the first time Lucifer had ever called him Alastor.    

#   

There was a knock on his door on Monday afternoon, and Alastor opened it to find Charlie bundled in her bright pink jacket, fluffy earmuffs, and gloves. Her white boots were strapped together with puffs at the end of the shoelaces, and her smile was brighter than the gates of Heaven. “Hello, Charlotte.”    

“Hi! Are you busy?”   

He had been working on the order list and organizing the final delivery schedule from the warehouse. However, he could never refuse a request from the girl. “I can spare an hour or so. What do you need?”   

“I was wondering if you could go somewhere with me.”   

He didn’t need much convincing. “Let me grab my coat.” He walked back in, allowing Charlotte to step into the entryway. When he returned, her eyes were staring at the collage of images along the narrow hallway, and she smiled. “Is that your mom?” she asked, so softly it nearly shattered him.    

He grinned, tenderly and sadly, following her gaze to the images of Alastor growing up and beside his universe. “Yes. Mama was a beautiful woman. Taught me everything about life.”    

“Can I meet her?”    

He sighed. “I wish, but sadly, she passed away a few months before I moved into town.” With a temperate touch, he patted her head. “She would have adored you, if it matters at all.”    

Charlotte beamed. “If she's anything like you, I would have liked her too.”    

“Oh ho… sorry to disappoint, dear, but we are nothing alike.” He winked playfully at her. “She was far better than me.”    

The girl chortled into her hand before reaching out to take his hand to exit the home. After locking up and walking down to the sidewalk, he noticed, out of the corner of his eyes, someone peeking through the window of the Morningstar home. The curtain swiftly closed, and Alastor shook his head. “If I may ask, where are we going?”    

“To the park! Vaggie is going to be there, and Dad has an online meeting.”    

“I see...” He said, eyes trying to capture Lucifer’s gaze from the window, but the single father was quick to keep hidden. Alastor lightly chuckled to himself, noticing how he clearly ignored the request to be notified a day in advance, but Alastor was too easily charmed by the child.    

The snow was coming, likely to blanket the streets with a classic white Christmas. At times, Alastor missed the warmth of New Orleans and the humidity that would take over, but he had to admit that seeing a small-town shimmering with twinkling lights, the large tree in the middle of Main Street, and the singing of carols was comforting. All of it was so cliché, yet he enjoyed every last bit of it.    

They arrived at the main park about a mile away from the house. Alastor saw a stand serving hot chocolates and coffee and couldn’t resist getting himself a cup. He offered one to Charlotte, and the two went to find a bench near the playground. “Is she here?” he asked, taking a seat and smelling the richness of his drink.    

“She won’t be here for a while. I wanted to come early.” She whistled a little song, a melody giving away her mischief.    

“I see... and for what reason?”    

“To talk.”    

“Oh,” he nodded his head, agreeing yet holding to the edge of his curiosity. “Then what did you wish to ask?”    

Charlotte sipped her drink, a wiggle to her nose much like a rabbit as she tried to ask the right question. “Why are you always alone on Christmas?”    

Alastor nearly choked, but kept himself calm. He wanted to come up with a fake reason, but only moments ago, he confessed to his mother’s passing, and there wasn’t a point in hiding the truth. “The holidays haven’t been the same since my mama died. If I were being honest, I don’t feel like celebrating when the person I loved the most is no longer with me.”    

“You don’t have other family?”    

“Sadly, no. I had a bit of a rough life growing up, and it was my mama and I against the world. We worked so hard to gain some kind of normalcy and, when the time came, she became all I had to live for.”    

Charlotte blinked, her blue eyes reflecting the sun. “What do you live for now?”    

It took him by surprise how that question made his heart skip. He didn’t have a response as it was something he hadn’t put much thought into since arriving in Hazbin. “I guess... myself. Maybe. A life my mama would have been proud to see me accomplish. Although I am certain she wouldn’t be thrilled at the fact that I didn’t pursue radio like I had hoped growing up.”    

“Radio?”    

Alastor took a deep breath. “I always loved listening to the radio, especially those who would do topical discussions or create the perfect playlist leading into the night, but radio isn’t quite what it used to be, and I picked a different pathway.”    

“Is the shop your passion now?”    

“It's my livelihood and I am proud of it, but I can’t with certainty say it's my passion.”    

“Then what is?”    

Alastor wanted to curl into himself. The questions were so simple yet complicated. “You... maybe,” he replied. “Or something like that.”    

“Me?” She nearly bounced in her seat.    

“Yes. You’ve been a lovely ray of sunshine, and our little meetings have been extremely meaningful to me. So, I guess, for now, you are a bit of my passion because I care a great deal about watching you grow and become the wonderful woman I am certain you are bound to be.”    

Charlotte couldn’t hold back her smile, giving in to her glee and sliding closer to Alastor. There was a timidness to how she rested her head on his arm. A child seeking comfort from a parent, but Alastor was no parent to the young girl. “You know, I miss my mom too.”    

“I’m certain you do, but you will see her soon.”    

“Yeah... I guess that makes me lucky, but...”    

“But what?” He wrapped his arm around her, providing a light, encouraging side hug.    

“I just want my parents to be happy...” There was more to her statement; he could sense it, but he wasn’t certain if she meant wanting her parents to be together once again or something else.    

“I am certain they are happy because you are in their life. That’s what my mama used to tell me.” He switched his voice to sound more like a Southern woman. “Now, Alastor, you listen here... you are what makes me happy. Anything else is a bonus.” He laughed at the poor impression, which caused Charlotte to do the same.    

“I guess, but there could be more. I think. Especially dad...”    

“Yes... I bet...” His stomach twisted at the mention of Lucifer. Since that day in the shop, hearing him be called by his first name, the single father’s face would randomly come to his mind, and Alastor hated the matter.    

“Mom has her career and dad… dad has the house.” The simplicity of her response was more telling than she could imagine. For a child to be unable to pinpoint the passions of the adult in their life likely meant that the adult had put a great deal into hiding many factors of themselves.    

“There must be more. Think harder. What does he do for fun in the house?”    

“Fun? Fun…” She repeated to herself, sipping her hot chocolate as she looked away into the distance. Then her eyes shot open, and she turned to him with an epiphany. “Cooking! Especially baking! Dad makes the best treats. His cookies! Cakes… and his cinnamon pancakes!” she was yelling. “They are the best!”   

He couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm. “Of course, sweets.” He growled under his breath, sipping the black coffee to remove the taste of sugar from complete memory.    

Charlotte couldn't help her musical giggle. “Do you not like any desserts?”    

“Well…” The second he spoke, her attention was laser-focused. “There was one, but I haven’t had it in five years.”    

“What was it?! Tell me?!” She nearly jumped off the bench.    

He reached over, resting his hand on her head to calm her down. Digging deep into his soul, he pulled out the truth, no matter how much it hurt him. “My mama's beignets.”    

There was a realization in Charlotte's eyes, immediately noticing the sorrow that took over Alastor as he confessed. She could sense his distress as he remembered the balance of fried dough with powdered sugar, often eating it with a drizzle of honey or softened hazelnut spread. Through his eyes, she saw the memories of their taste and how he longed to have a bite one last time.    

He continued, “I have the recipe, and I have tried to remake it, but it never works. There is something I keep doing wrong, and I can't figure it out.”    

“Oh? Where do you keep the recipe?”    

“In my kitchen. There is a small box of my mama's classic recipes that sits on my counter. Within it are all the cards of the meals she used to make for me. I've been able to make everything right, except the beignets.”    

“Huh…” She sipped her cup again and perked up when she saw Vaggie running up to her. “Mr. Alastor, maybe you have to try one more time.”   

He shook his head. “I think there are some things I will never be able to accomplish without her beside me… Go, your friend is here. I need to head back within an hour, so go play.”    

She nodded her head, handing him the cup before running off to hug Vaggie, taking her hand, and heading to the playground. Alastor lifted his cup in greeting to Sera, Vaggie's caregiver, since arriving at the orphanage. He watched the young girls play, an innocence he couldn't wrap his head around, yet wishing he could comprehend it beyond the scope of what the world had taught him.    

Beignets… He missed them dearly, and as the first bits of snow came down to Hazbin, Alastor silently suffered in his loneliness.   

#     

The final week before Charlotte’s winter break was fast approaching. The young girl was prattling on about all her plans in Paris while Alastor exchanged a few French words for her to practice. As they passed his shop, both found themselves stopping at the bakery that neighbored it. Their eyes were locked on a new sign on the door: For Sale.   

The older woman who owned the bakery for fifty years stepped out, looking tired and a tad grumpy. Susan was always this way, a bothersome woman who complained about everything, but damn did she make some of the best cakes and pastries in town. Charlotte looked as if she was going to cry, and Alastor swiftly turned to her with concern.    

“She-she makes my favorite cookies!” The girl cried.    

He sighed, happy it wasn’t something more serious, but still empathetic toward her feelings. “I’m certain there is a good reason... Susan?” He approached her. “Why are you selling?”    

“Time to retire,” she replied, a gruffness to her voice from years of smoking. “Want to leave this stupid town behind.”    

It took everything within Alastor not to reply with a sharpness of disapproval for her mannerism, especially in front of Charlotte. “Yes... Well, I am certain everyone here will miss you.”    

She scowled and cleared her throat so loudly, Alastor was confident ooze would come out of her mouth if she spit. “Whatever. I’m ready to leave. You wanna buy the place? Expand the business.”    

“Oh, no, no... I do not need to make the shop bigger. The space I have is fine.”    

“Figures... well, I am officially closed as of Christmas, and my realtor will handle selling the shop.”    

Charlotte was oddly quiet, listening in on their conversation and contemplating. It made Alastor nervous, knowing this girl was smarter than she let on, and her mind appeared to be ticking endlessly as of late. He continued, “Well, it will be sad to see you go. I must go on or Charlotte will be late to school. See you soon.” He waved and began to walk off.   

Charlotte kicked her foot with each step, the previous conversation now silent, and her eyes looking up to the sky with wonderment. As they neared the school, she spoke, “Mr. Alastor... do adults sometimes give up their dreams?”    

“Well... yes. Life can give us twists and turns we don’t expect, and we must adjust to keep surviving. I already told you I once dreamed of being a radio host.”    

“And if you got the chance, would you try again?”    

He thought for a moment and realized that to do so would likely mean uprooting himself again, and that was not something he was interested in doing. But he also believed in never saying never. “Maybe. If the opportunity worked. Why do you ask?”    

“Just curious...” She exhaled deeply and long until her eyes glimmered at the sight of Vaggie waving at her from the school steps. She said goodbye to Alastor and ran to her friend. If Alastor didn’t know any better, he’d think the girl was experiencing her first crush by the way she smiled as they approached each other. He laughed to himself, shook his head, and U-turned back to his shop.    

For a moment, he looked at the For Sale sign and thought about who his new neighbor could be. And, completely out of surprise, his mind betrayed him with a singular vision.   

Lucifer...   

#   

The following Saturday morning was going to be the busiest day in his shop. It would be the last weekend date he was open before Christmas, and he knew plenty of people in town who would be rushing to get their last-minute order in. Niffty and he were already coming in on Monday to prepare some of the orders in advance, but the expected rush was something he needed to mentally prepare for.    

He ran out of his house, coffee mug in his hand as he locked the door, but he stopped when something caught him off guard from the corner of his eye. There was Lucifer, standing with the newspaper in his hand, curlers in his head, a duck headband, duck slippers, and a pink fluffy robe.    

Alastor stumbled on his feet, bending over in laughter. “Oh my, what an astonishing look you are sporting today. Who in the universe decided to bless me with seeing this vision?”   

“Ha-ha!” Lucifer replied sarcastically. “Don’t you have a place to run to?”    

“Oh, this will be worth every second I am late operating my shop. Morningstar, you look ridiculous!”   

Lucifer rolled his eyes, moving the robe to cover up his bare chest underneath and to protect him from the cold. “I am allowed to wear whatever I want.”    

“Yes, of course, but I am also allowed to think it is the most foolish thing I have ever seen. Did Charlotte put you up to this?”    

“No... I like this look.” He scratched his nose, lightly embarrassed, until it caused Alastor to laugh harder, and then he replied with a scowl. “Go on to work! I have a roast to cook!”    

Alastor didn’t even care that some of his coffee spilled. He kept laughing as Lucifer huffed and turned back into his home. As the door slammed, Alastor wiped away a tear from his eyes and looked at the red door, entering the Morningstar home. Admittedly, while he appeared like an idiot, Alastor had a fleeting thought that he liked how it looked. He shook his head of the thought and stormed toward his shop to get the day started.   

As expected, the day was busy and he barely made it through. Had it not been for Niffty sneaking in pieces of food directly into his mouth as he worked, he doubted he would have eaten. He was starving as he walked back home, thinking of the leftovers in his fridge and the bed that awaited him. He entered his house, dropped off his belongings, but before he could go further, his doorbell rang.    

 He didn’t bother to check, opening the door to expect Charlotte, but instead, he was greeted with a pink bakery box without a label, but a note attached. He lifted it, feeling that whatever was inside was fresh and still hot. When he pulled it closer to him, he could smell a scent he hadn’t experienced in five years.    

He closed the door behind him, took the box to the kitchen, and opened the note. All it read was:   

Merry Christmas! Enjoy!   

A small rainbow was drawn in the corner, and he immediately knew who the gift was from, but the aroma of the pastry was calling to him. He opened it, seeing five freshly made beignets. His mouth was watering; the idea alone of eating a beignet during this season was both riddled with complete joy and devastating anguish. He picked one up, holding the pastry under his nose and slowly and longingly sniffing it.    

He took a bite, the melody of flavors taking over his mouth and taste buds. It was like he was a child again, monitoring over the kitchen counter as he watched his mother make them fresh and sprinkling the sugar on top after they cooled. He ran to his pantry, finding the freshest honey he had and drizzling it over. His second bite was home, the breeze of a winter in New Orleans as his mind dreamed of presents, beignets, and harmony.    

How?   

There was no way anyone could replicate this recipe to make it taste exactly like his mother's — unless.   

He ran to the small recipe box on the counter, opened it, and flipped through each card. It was gone. The card that held his mother’s beignet recipe. It barely took a second for him to realize the culprit. He knew there was only one person in town who knew his schedule and where he hid his emergency key. He finished the beignet, took the box with him, and stormed next door to the Morningstar residence.   

The door swung open, and Lucifer stood with the stolen goods between his fingers. “Took you long enough.”   

Alastor nearly snatched the card out of his hand but resisted, not completely angry that someone had snuck into his house and stolen something extremely valuable. Instead, he waited for Lucifer to extend the card and carefully took it back. There was a hesitation, watching as Lucifer sighed in disbelief and looked somewhat nervous. “Your daughter needs to learn boundaries.”   

“Yes, well, she is a rather determined little girl, and I didn't realize until far too late about her little lie that you had lent her the card. Don't worry, I will be holding her accountable for breaking into your home, but…”    

“Don't…” Alastor found himself whispering, eyes locked on the card and the lingering warmth of Lucifer's fingers against the paper. It was all in his head, but he swore there was a hint of the powdered sugar left on the card, a reminder that this man was likely the chef behind the delightfulness of his favorite dessert.    

Lucifer rubbed the back of his neck, moving his gaze away from Alastor and back down the hall. “Look… Charlie did this because all she's asked for Christmas is to invite you to join us. I didn't think she was serious until she brought me the card and came up with this plan to leave the beignets at your door. Would you mind? Joining us for dinner?”   

Alastor choked; his response held to the back of his throat and wondered exactly what was happening. “I shouldn't intrude. This is your Christmas celebration.”   

“And this is what she asked for…” Lucifer leaned closer to whisper. “Look, I can fake something for you, but I wanted to be honest about asking.”    

“I'll stay…” he replied, nearly thoughtlessly, and a warmth came to his cheeks as Lucifer moved his gaze up to capture his eyes. The town of Hazbin was blanketed with white snow against the backdrop of a blue sky, and even its perfection could not match the beauty of Lucifer's eyes. “I can join you, if she really wants.”    

Lucifer was blinded, baffled, and astonished. “Oh-okay! Dinner will be ready in two hours if you want to come in an hour or so… I bet you're tired.”    

“It's fine. I will return then…” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I'll be back.” He held up the card between his fingers, moving it slightly as if trying to fill the silence with the swish of the paper. “Okay…” He awkwardly turned around, holding the box close to his chest and rushing back into his house without looking at Lucifer.    

He locked the door, breathing gradually at what exactly he agreed with and trying to understand why his heart was pounding. Regardless, he ran to the kitchen, had one more beignet, and then moved to his room to get ready. He couldn't explain why he was searching endlessly for something to wear, and when he finally landed on a red vest over a white button-down shirt and black slacks, he wondered why he felt the need to present himself so.    

It had to be for Charlotte, but even his own mind flashed of Lucifer's smile and how kind it was when he saw the box held in Alastor's hand.    

The time passed, and he made his way to the Morningstar home, knocking until Charlotte opened the door and welcomed him in. “Mr. Alastor! Welcome to my house. Are you hungry? Dad's dinner is going to be so good!” She took his hand, dragging him down the entryway until they reached the open living room, dining room, and kitchen space. To give Charlotte some credit, the aroma of the area was inviting. He could smell the well-seasoned beef roasting in the oven, the potatoes mashed within a bowl, and the homemade gravy boiling in a pot.    

“Welcome!” proclaimed Lucifer as he pushed the roast back into the oven after basting it. “Please, take some of the wine from those bottles, and Charlie will get you some snacks.”   

Charlotte complied, bringing over a small plate of chips, some French onion dip, cocktail weenies, and mini quiches. He thought there was a lot for a party that only appeared to have two, but the shine of Charlotte’s smile was all Alastor cared about, and he took the plate happily. He walked over to the kitchen counter, where several stools sat along the side, and took a seat with his plate. An empty glass for wine sat beside two bottles, and Alastor poured himself a red. The surprisingly dry taste of the wine swooshed around his mouth, and he began to eat.    

Lucifer removed his gloves, sporting a pink, frilled apron with white polka dots. Alastor wanted to laugh, but instead, he found it secretly charming. “So... thanks for coming.” His voice nearly sang, trying to figure out what to say to his new guest. He then wandered his eyes to Charlotte, who was glancing between them both, a rock to her feet, and a devilish mischief at the edges of her lips. Lucifer rolled his eyes and took his glass to refill with the white wine.    

“Are there more guests coming? This seems like a lot of food for two people.”    

“Three!” Charlotte chimed in.   

“I guess it is three now.”    

“Oh no,” Lucifer shook his finger in disagreement. “It was always three. Like I said, this little one has been plotting this for some time. Isn’t that right, Charlie?”    

She laughed into her hand and crawled up the stool beside Alastor. “One month.”    

Suddenly, all the random questions over the course of the month were making sense. “Charlotte, why didn’t you just invite me?”    

“Because you hate dad.”    

Alastor choked on the wine. “I — now hold on!”    

Lucifer laughed. “It's alright. I hate you too. At least I did. Maybe a little jealous.”    

Jealous? That was a word most unexpected.    

“Charlie, go get the games. Maybe we can show Alastor who’s the queen of Uno.” She clapped her hands and left for another room upstairs. Once the pattering of her feet vanished, he looked over to Alastor. It took everything within the butcher to not choke once again. “I really appreciate this. Honestly. She speaks very highly of you, and while we have always had our... disputes... I do trust you with my daughter, and it takes a great deal for me to admit something like that.”    

Alastor slowly drank his wine, finding the right words but giving in to whatever decided to come out. “She’s a wonderful girl. You’re doing amazing raising her.”    

Lucifer didn’t bother to hide his sunshine smile and the blush rising on his cheeks. Before he could speak, Charlotte stormed in with a handful of various board games and card games within a basket. “Let’s play!”    

They took the bottles to the table and began to play various games as the meal finished cooking. Once the roast rested, they all sat down at the table, enjoyed their meal, and had light conversation. It was easy — far too simple to blend in with the Morningstars. They were a happy family, and the brilliance of their charisma was easy to slip into. Alastor couldn't remember the last time he shared a meal with such company. The kindness in their laughter, the joy in their words, and the welcoming of their smiles. All of it felt like New Orleans in winter, resting on the couch with his mother's hot chocolate and freshly fried beignets.    

As the meal ended, he insisted he'd clean up, pushing Lucifer away from the sink and cleaning every single dish until they were spotless. When he dried his hands, Lucifer snapped closed a Tupperware and placed it on the counter. “Extra for you to take home.”    

“You don't have to. You have Charlotte to feed.”    

“It will go bad. She leaves tomorrow morning.” There was a dip in his voice. A hidden sadness that was easy to read and understand, and it still broke Alastor to see it on his features.    

“Dad! Dad! Cake time!”   

He laughed, patting Alastor's shoulder as if to signal him to sit. Charlotte ran up and snagged Alastor’s hand, dragging him to the couch to sit and await dessert to be served. Against Charlotte's pink cheeks glittered the twinkling lights of their Christmas tree. There were various ornaments, pink and white ribbons, and hanging snowflakes. The lights were shimmering in dancing rainbow colors, and the star on the top of the tree was bright white like the northern star.    

Alastor allowed himself to leniently smile, gazing upon it with admiration. Then a scent covered the air, fresh-brewed coffee from the kitchen. He watched as Lucifer cut up a cheesecake and then poured two cups of espresso. Using a tray, he brought it to the coffee table and sat beside Alastor. “I didn't know how you like it, so the sugar is there if needed.” He proceeded to scoop in far too much sugar into the cup, and Alastor nearly gagged.    

“Goodness, are you going to wither away if you don't consume as much sugar as possible?”    

“Ha-ha, I just like my coffee sweet. Don’t worry, I don't overly sweeten my desserts. Here. Enjoy. It’s a basic strawberry New York cheesecake.” He handed a plate to Alastor, and it smelled more delightful than he'd expected. Charlotte stole her slice from the tray like a gremlin and scampered away under the tree near her presents.     

Lucifer chuckled into his first bite. “Yes, you can open your presents. But remember, the gifts from Santa are for your return. These are from dad.”    

She squealed, shoved a piece of cheesecake into her mouth, and picked a present. To Alastor's surprise, she stood up and walked it over to him. “This is for you.”    

He blinked, took the small box, and stared at it, far too confused. “You didn't have to. You already made me the beignets.”    

“Please. It's from me. The beignets were from Dad. Made with love,” she said as if pretending to be her father.     

Lucifer coughed at the mention. “She means… ha-ha… You know the saying?” His stuttering caught Alastor off guard.    

Instead, Alastor waved it off and began to open his gift. “I get it and… Oh, this is so kind.”    

“I got it custom-made by the toy shop! Abel and Peter did so well!" Charlotte was nearly jumping as Alastor examined the snow globe with his butcher shop inside. He shook it, admiring the details and noticing three small people.    

“Is that me?” he pointed at the person waving at the front door.    

“Yep, and that is Dad and me coming to the shop!”    

He wasn't one to cry, but a tear welled in his eye. “Thank you, Charlotte. I adore this. I will place it at the front desk immediately on Monday.”    

She beamed, surprising him with a hug, and he did nothing else but return it warmly. Eventually, she pulled away, shoving another bite of the cheesecake before beginning to open her presents, but Alastor couldn't remove his gaze from the snow globe.    

“Like I said,” Lucifer said between sips, smiling at him so kindly that Alastor caught himself thinking he wished he could be at the receiving end of that smile for longer than the night. “She adores you.”    

He huffed out a light grin and placed the globe on the table. “As I adore her.” He took back his cup, finally sipping his and nearly moaning at the taste. “Where did you…”    

Lucifer laughed into his hand. “I get the best coffee. I'll get you a bag next time I order some. Now eat the cake, and let's watch her. This is my favorite part of the evening.”    

Alastor turned to look at Charlotte, and he immediately understood. He took his cheesecake, choosing to take a bite simply to be a courteous guest, but ended up devouring the whole slice. He'd never had a cheesecake so perfectly balanced and smooth, yet flavorful. He watched as Charlotte tore into every gift, and when he turned to Lucifer, the father barely registered the man beside him.    

He had slid closer, likely to get a better look at Charlotte opening her gifts. It was astonishing that he wasn’t taking pictures like most parents, instead registering every second to his memory and living within the moment. It impressed Alastor, and he found himself scooting closer as if trying to steal some of the natural joy radiating from him. It was infectious, and Alastor accepted his surroundings.    

More so, he accepted that he wished he could always be a part of it.    

#   

The following few days were a whirlwind. He barely had a moment to register the night at the Morningstars, and he hated missing saying goodbye to Charlotte before her flight. More so, the busyness of his shop with their Christmas orders made him far more tired than normal, and until Christmas Eve, he was making a beeline from his home to work and then back home directly to his bed.    

However, it was Christmas morning, and the shop was closed for the holiday. He didn't have any plans, but he knew only last-minute orders would come in, and he wanted to make sure his employee enjoyed the holiday with her boyfriend, Baxter. As per usual, he had plans to sit at his home, drinking some whiskey, enjoying a record, and perhaps a book. A day of relaxation was all he needed for Christmas.    

As he stepped to open the curtains in the front window while still sporting his red silk pajamas, he noticed Lucifer sitting outside on the stairway to his own house, drinking coffee in his pink robe. This time, he wasn’t wearing the duck headband or curlers, but instead his duck beanie and a thicker pair of sweatpants. Alastor watched him from the corner of his eyes, witnessing the man sigh into his coffee mug, observing the snowy streets, and quietly contemplating something.    

Alastor moved away from the window, scared that Lucifer would see him gawking. His heart was racing as a little memory of a few nights prior replayed in his mind.    

The party was over, and Charlotte was about to get ready for sleep. She'd asked Lucifer if she could escort Alastor back home, and he shrugged his shoulders in response. In the short walk, Charlotte prattled on about the little party and the many toys she was going to play with once she got back home. As he reached his door, she stopped him to say, “Thanks for coming. I hope you had fun.”    

“I did. Thank you for inviting me. Best Christmas I have had in years.”   

She tucked her arms behind her and rocked on her feet. “Mr. Alastor… you're single, right?”    

The question took him completely by surprise. “Now, why would you ask that?”    

“Curious… and you like, what? Boys? Girls? Everyone?”    

He placed a fist over his waist. “Now, Charlotte, that is not a question to be asking so freely. People have privacy…”    

“Yeah, yeah… Dad is telling me all the time to stop being so nosy.”    

“For once, I have to agree with him.”    

She pouted, puffing out her cheeks before pivoting on one heel. “Whatever, I just wanted to know.” She skipped down the steps and turned in the direction of her house. “Dad is single… and likes girls and boys… well, he likes anyone. He's a pan… Pan, something.” She waved, continued to her home, up the stairs, and vanished.    

That child was clearly the devil's daughter, playing with Alastor by dropping such a fact without care, and it worried his aching heart to know it. Why exactly it caused his heart to palpitate was a mystery, but he knew it was all Charlotte's doing.   

He sneakily moved to the window again, seeing Lucifer exactly as he was, and he also noticed his newspaper, which he had once again missed, and landed at the end of the stairs. He could avoid the newspaper for the day. It was likely covered in stories about the holiday versus real news, but — damn him.   

He grabbed his coat and put it on, slipping into his slippers and swearing under his breath before opening the door. With a cough and a hiccup in his breath, he opened it and stepped out. Immediately, he could feel Lucifer's eyes on him, and he tried not to look back, but the single father and his merriment still greeted him. “Good morning, Alastor.”    

“Morningstar,” he replied, trying to remain stoic and unbothered.    

“Seriously, when are you going to call me Lucifer?” He shook his head, but the lack of laughter greedily captured Alastor's attention.    

“I wasn't certain we were on those terms.”    

“Terms? What era do you live in? Fine, whatever. You want to continue being rivals, I can play that game, Hartfelt.”    

Suddenly, Alastor's heart twisted, and he hated his last name. “Fine, you can call me Alastor, and I'll say Lucifer. Happy?”    

“Very much.” He sipped his drink, returning his gaze to the snow and the empty Christmas morning.    

“What are you drinking?” he asked, holding his position at the gate to his own home, hesitating to walk back in and leave Lucifer behind.   

“Coffee. Want some? I made a whole pot.”    

“All for yourself?”    

Lucifer shrugged his shoulder, uncaring. “I'd slowly drink it during the day.” He stood up, walking back to his house and leaving the door open. Alastor creepily walked up to his home, not certain if he was invited in or meant to wait. When Lucifer reappeared with two cups, he figured staying outside in the cold was the plan. “Plain, right? I noticed you didn't add any sugar last time, although this is drip and…”    

“Yes,” he replied, taking the mug with a duck printed on its side, and awkwardly staring back at him. “I like my coffee black.”    

The two stood still, not bothering to look anywhere but at the other. Lucifer scratched his cheek and coughed lightly. “Sit with me, if you want. I don't really have much going on, and I don't mind the morning company.”    

“Oh, yes, I can sit.”    

Lucifer closed the door to his house and sat down with Alastor to his right. At first, the two held the warm mug against their palm, sipping the coffee and silently watching the plainness of the town. Alastor relaxed, admiring the beauty of the town he called home and the little regret he had of leaving New Orleans for simpler living, but a thought of his loneliness crept in, and his heart raced when he looked over to Lucifer beside him.    

He was beautiful, one could say angelic, with his perfect skin and complexion. It was easy enough to mistake him for a man nearing his forties, rather than being a man who was far closer to fifty. A strip of hair fell over Lucifer's face, and Alastor reached over to move it and tuck it under the fit of the beanie.    

He flinched, realizing what he had done and the look of befuddlement on Lucifer's face. “I — Um…” replied Alastor, voice cracking and body nearly darting away with only the coffee left behind as his trail.    

But Lucifer smiled, the heart-stopping, earth-shattering smile, and returned to looking at the town. “I grew up here. My family has been running the accounting business for decades, and we are the richest people in town.”    

Alastor blinked at the sudden confession of his life story. “Wait, Heaven's Accounting?”    

“That would be the one.” He sipped his coffee to hide the distaste of the truth from his lips. “And I hate it there.”    

“Oh?” He cleared his throat, not completely certain what to say. The warmth of the dark roasted coffee added to the heat rising on his cheeks and gave him a drop of courage to ask. “Why don't you leave?”    

“I fear change. I want to, but with change comes risk, and I have Charlie to think about, so I can’t act on it.”    

“I guess that makes sense… Although, if it matters at all, your misery is noticed.”    

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, curious, and confused.    

Alastor continued, “Charlotte brought up the fact, well, indirectly, that you do not seem happy. When she talks of her mother, she speaks of her music career, the traveling she does, the long talks on the phone, and how much she adores her summers away. But when she speaks of you, there is this… sadness. I asked her once what your hobbies were, and she struggled to give me an answer. Eventually, she mentioned your baking, but, sadly, if a child can't pinpoint their parents' passions. You…” His voice hitched, thinking of his own mother and the many sacrifices she had made to give him a better life. They were the same eyes, a sorrow so deep that hid pools of darkness and begged to be forgiven for losing the one matter that should always be kept sacred — oneself.    

But that was the thing with parents, they often gave it all up for their children, and right then, that was when Alastor realized Lucifer was no different, and it only made his heart pump faster. “You gave it all up for Charlotte, didn't you?”   

Lucifer slowly drank his cream and sugar-filled coffee, lingering away his response as if trying to hide from it, but also searching for the exact truth. “It's hard. I once had a passion, but the divorce took it away from me. My last gift to Lili, if I were to be honest. To be fair, we had rushed into everything when we were dating, and Charlie was a bit of an accident. Regardless, we were both proud to have her, and there isn't an ounce of regret, but when the love was lost, so were my aspirations. Nothing in my life matters more to me than Charlie, and I happily allowed Lili to pursue her dreams while I gave it all up to give Charlie stability. So, I returned to my family's business and work there, no matter how much I hate it.”    

“And what did you give up?”    

Lucifer beamed, gentle and harmonious, to a memory in the back of his mind. The bit of sunshine captured in his eyes was almost ringing like a halo. “Baking.”    

It was too much, the fact that Charlotte had pinpointed her father's passion without realizing it. He had saved his skills for his daughter, hiding them away from everyone but her, and even so, there was a lack of connection between his skills and what he wished to accomplish. “Then I guess she reads you better than you think.”    

“I guess so… but it is what it is. Maybe once she's older and leaves for college, I can try something different, but for now, I will give it all up for her.”    

Alastor sighed, wishing he could say something, but words felt meaningless against the debates of a caring father. “You're a good man. I can’t even think of why I disliked you so much.”    

“Oh, um, that would be my fault.” He shrank down, trying to hide. “You see, when you started walking with Charlie, I got a bit jealous of how she was talking about you and, well, I convinced myself she started viewing you like a replacement father, so I began to be a tad, not so subtly disrespectful toward you, and you basically read me back my own words after.”    

His eyes widened, remembering all the moments where Lucifer was disrespectful toward him and how it lay within their timeline. “Oh my God! It was your fault!” Alastor shoved him, and Lucifer waddled side to side and began laughing.    

“I'm sorry… Sorry… I learned my lesson. You're not so bad, and it's good for Charlie to have other adults in her life who care. She needs that.” He pursed his lips, biting the inside of his cheek before he said his next words. “I don't dislike you anymore, if it matters. Quite the contrary now.”    

Alastor caught it; the way Lucifer had said the last sentence was different from before. He swallowed the lump in his throat, took a long gulp of his coffee, and kept his eyes on Lucifer. “I don't dislike you either.” Lucifer grinned, eyes darting every which way except for on Alastor. He was blushing. There was no denying it now, and it encouraged Alastor to speak again, “Are you busy today? I am spending Christmas alone, and if you don't have plans, why don't you…”    

“I have a Christmas party at my brother’s…”    

“Oh… that's fine…” He stopped when Lucifer's hand took his and held it tight.   

“But I have been looking for a reason to cancel. What time shall I be at your place?”    

“Say three? We can play some games or something as the meal cooks.”    

Lucifer smiled malevolently and stood up, slowly releasing his hold, leaving Alastor to miss it. “Or something. Sounds good. I'll see you at three.”    

He turned to enter the house, and Alastor realized he still had the mug. He held it up to hand to Lucifer, but he shook his head. “Keep it for collateral. It will be my promise to come and collect it. See you soon.” He slowly closed the door, and Alastor couldn't help but watch until he was gone.    

Then panic sank in.    

Lucifer was coming to his home in a few hours, and he had to prepare something. He ran to his house, quickly changed after leaving the cup in the kitchen, and out to his butcher shop. His mind thought of a rack of lamb, and he needed to gather some swiftly and return to begin prepping. He acted like a high schooler, muttering through various ideas to impress someone and second-guessing every step.    

What had become of him, and why wasn't he questioning it?    

Once he was back home, he made a list of everything he had to accomplish before the arrival. Luckily, he had a stocked kitchen, and it was easy for him to figure out a meal and make a few premade cocktails from his bar. Once the rack of lamb was in the oven, he raced to the shower and made himself presentable.    

In moments, as he was mixing the last of the cranberries within the Christmas martinis, his doorbell rang. He stumbled on the way to the door, quickly checking himself at the window and reviewing that everything about his look was adequate.    

Foolish... he thought, in disbelief that he, of all people, clearly had a crush. He couldn’t even recall the last time he liked someone.    

The doorbell rang again, and he took a deep breath before answering. “Hi, welcome,” he said, but froze as Lucifer waved at him happily, sporting a rubber duck printed ugly knitted sweater. Alastor bit his lip and asked, “I can’t hold it in anymore. What is with you and ducks?”    

“Huh?” Lucifer followed Alastor’s gaze to the sweater. “Oh! I love ducks. They are fantastic creatures. Nothing is both more beautiful and secretly terrifying.”    

“You’re an odd one. Come in.” He held the door for Lucifer, and the man slowly stepped in, observing every inch of his home in agonizing detail.   

“Dark academia vibes, I had a feeling.”    

“Now what is that supposed to mean?” He walked around Lucifer to the kitchen to pour them some drinks. He held the freshly made cocktail to Lucifer, who took it between his hands and then took a slight step closer to the butcher. Alastor gulped and immediately blushed.    

“Nothing bad. I just had the sense your room would look like a scholar had lived in it. Honestly, I like it. Add a few rubber ducks, and it would be perfect.” He sipped the drink while laughing.   

“You’re not permitted to place a single duck in my home. And no sending Charlotte to do it.”    

“Drat... my plan has been foiled already.” Lucifer took a step back and meandered to the couch. “The food smells good. What are we having?”    

“Herb-encrusted rack of lamb with a mushroom risotto, house salad, and some garlic French bread.”   

Lucifer fell onto the couch, perplexed. “Wow. I should have known a butcher could cook, too.”    

Alastor sat beside him but mindfully kept some distance. He couldn’t help but feel nervous having Lucifer in his home. Admittedly, he didn’t have many visitors, and the idea of anyone in his house was strange, but it was even stranger to have Lucifer sitting beside him. “I hope you enjoy it when it's time.”    

“I am certain I will.” Lucifer sipped his drink, looking around the home at the light decorations that read like an old 1950s holiday movie. “Honestly, I think I am more surprised that you decorated. The outside of your home is so plain.”    

“I only use the decorations my mama left behind for me.”   

“Yes... Charlie told me about your mother. You really moved here because she passed? If you don’t mind me asking.”    

“It's fine. It's been five years, and yes, I moved to Hazbin because I couldn’t stand the thought of being in New Orleans anymore after my mama passed. It was too painful, and she had been asking me for years to move on with my life, so I did.”    

“Why Hazbin?”    

“I was looking up various small towns, and this one spoke to me somehow. Plus, the cost to open the shop was extremely reasonable for a town considered so high-class. It especially perplexed me that there was no butcher shop. The town needed a better selection of meats. It almost felt befitting to move here.”    

Lucifer moved closer to him, leaned until their arms touched. “I’m happy you did then.”    

“Yes... I am realizing more each day how perfect it was.”    

They locked eyes, comfortable in the silence growing between them, covered in the scent of their cranberry cocktails, the lamb, and the vegetables roasting. Which, sadly, took Alastor away from the unconscious concentration on Lucifer’s beauty. “I need to start the pasta. Um — join me in the kitchen. I can top you off.”    

“Sure.” Lucifer stood up and followed but paused when something captured his attention. “You have a record player?”    

“Yes. I am a collector of vinyl, especially classic and jazz music. If you open that cabinet, the majority of my collection is there if you wish to play a song. The older ones I keep in my office.”    

Lucifer placed his cup on the counter to rummage through the cabinet. “I’d love to see the others.”    

“I can show you later.” Alastor began to cook the risotto and checked the lamb as Lucifer selected a record to play.    

“Seth MacFarlane? Isn’t he the guy who made Family Guy?”    

“Yep... but he sings like Frank Sinatra. Find the one with Liz Gillies. Trust me. Put it on.”    

Lucifer did so and eventually found the record, placing it, and was shocked by the beauty of their voice blending so perfectly and the merriment of the spirit it brought. “Wow! Learned something new...” He walked back to the kitchen, taking his cup and leaning over the counter to watch Alastor cook.    

Alastor wasn’t certain, but he swore the single father’s eyes were analyzing every inch of him, covering his body with a yearning unspoken, but Alastor surprisingly welcomed. He decided to put on a little show, swaying his hips lightly to the music and whistling along, sometimes turning to steal Lucifer’s gaze and hold it with his own wanting.    

It was rare for Alastor to understand flirting or the wanted affections of another, but the mutual craving was easy to read on both their faces, and he wondered how long this secret attraction had been brewing deep inside him.    

All at once, the food was ready, and Alastor plated them both before sliding on his feet closer to Lucifer with the plate in his hand. “Shall we?”    

Lucifer hummed happily, already drooling over his plate as he took it and walked to the small circular table to enjoy the meal. It didn’t take long for them to eat while having casual conversations. He admitted several things to Lucifer: how he had dreams of being a radio host, that his mother was a singer, that the only television he watched was crime documentaries, and that he had a whole room dedicated to his collection of books and vintage vinyl upstairs.    

Lucifer was not simply listening, expressing his own secret hobbies like a love for the circus and knowing far too many facts about its history, that his brothers were well respected around town, but some held secret affairs or were given handouts by his father, that his favorite holiday was actually Halloween, and he had a fondness for the supernatural.    

It was easy; the conversation was a breeze, and no pause that ever felt awkward, except for Alastor’s growing need to get closer to Lucifer.    

Once dinner was done, it was Lucifer’s turn to insist on washing up, and as he did, Alastor moved to change the vinyl to another record by the same artists. He held himself over the player for a moment, and before he began, he looked over to Lucifer, drying his hands from completing his task, and wondered. “Do you dance?”    

Lucifer blinked, stunned. “I do... but it's been a while outside of the chicken dance or the father-daughter dances at school.”    

Alastor coyly smiled and began the record. White Christmas played, and he moved closer to Lucifer, extending his hand as an invitation. “A dance?”    

Lucifer took it gleefully and huffed as Alastor pulled him closer and pressed their chests together. Their height difference was difficult to ignore, but the way Lucifer quickly picked up the rhythm, Alastor knew there would be little concern for the matter. It started slowly, but eventually Alastor took larger steps, swooping Lucifer across the living room, twirling with him under the starlight spread throughout the decor.    

It was when Lucifer laughed that Alastor realized how quickly his heart sank. This was not a sentiment he was used to, falling so easily into the arms of another and almost feeling a need to never let go. The memories of his time within the Morningstar home felt like a challenge, a taste of a life he could have if he took the right steps. He turned them toward the archway leading back to the entrance, spinning delightfully along with the music and the beating of his heart. Their breaths synced as the song came to an end, winding down under the arch and mesmerized by the other.    

The record scratched as the needle found its end, but Alastor couldn’t help but hold onto Lucifer a little bit longer. It was Lucifer’s eyes that gave away what hung above them, and the red spread against his cheeks, telling of his thoughts. “Ha.... Mistletoe. Good thing Charlie isn’t here or she would tell us to...”    

And so he did. Alastor leaned down to steal the lips that had been teasing him all night. The lips that had entrapped him without warning and gave Alastor a desire for something he never figured he’d want. It was beyond his loneliness, and the kiss was not from a desperation to end it, but from something deep within his soul he had been missing for five years.    

A connection worth risking his own sanity to take.    

Lucifer moaned lightly, giving in to the kiss and moving his arms to wrap around Alastor’s neck. The meal still held in their tongues now devoured the unplanned dessert, yet it was the best taste he could fathom. Alastor grabbed his waist, guiding him to walk back as he moved them to the couch. They fell onto the cushions, barely taking a breath between their smacks and pulling the other closer as best they could.    

The passion rising between them warmed their souls against the snow falling outside the window. It was winter in the streets, but in the room, it was blazing with the heat of summer. That was until Lucifer’s phone rang with an alarm, and he groaned in frustration from having to part. “Sorry... sorry... I have to stop... I need to... call Charlie.” While his words remained of the loyal father he was, his tone gave away how desperately he wanted to keep kissing the man lying against him on the couch. “Um... I don’t think calling Charlie in this position is wise.”    

“Oh, yes... of course... let me...” He stood off, already missing Lucifer’s body and moving to the kitchen to refill their drinks.    

Lucifer fixed his clothing and hair to hide the evidence of what they were doing before turning off the reminder alarm and dialing Charlotte. In moments, her cheerful voice sang through the phone, and the doting father returned to his usual radiant smile. Alastor stayed in the kitchen to respectfully let them have their privacy, but the ever-observant Charlotte spoke up, “Dad, where are you? That’s not our house... Oh! Dad! Are you at Mr. Alastor’s?!” The glee in her voice was contagious.    

“I — um — yes. He invited me over for Christmas....” With that confession, Alastor took the drinks to the couch and sat beside him.    

“Mom! Mom! Come here! Dad is with Mr. Alastor!”    

“Who?” they heard Lilith in the background.    

“Mr. Alastor! Dad’s crush!”    

It was with those words that Lucifer could have died on the spot, at least Alastor figured by the way his face turned completely red, and he began to sweat. Alastor leaned in to look at the phone, and Charlotte waved happily at him and then realized what she had said. A second later, Lilith appeared, and she greeted them.    

“My, he is rather handsome, but I think you embarrassed your father, dear. You shouldn’t have mentioned that,” said Lilith.    

Charlotte started wailing. “Dad! Wait! I am sorry... Dad!”    

“Charlotte...” replied Alastor, surprising everyone by taking Lucifer’s hand and kissing it. “It's fine. I have a crush on your father, too, so it's mutual.”    

Lucifer gulped, a dizziness to his flushed, covered face.    

Charlotte wiped away her tears and started jumping, causing the screen on the phone to become blurry. All they could hear was Charlotte chanting, “Mission beignets worked! Mission beignets worked! I can’t believe I did it!”    

Alastor laughed into his hand and scooted closer to Lucifer, nearly cheek to cheek. “Your daughter needs a lesson in boundaries.”    

Lucifer cleared his throat, flustered. “You’re telling me.”    

Moments later, Lilith took the phone and looked at the two. “Well, I guess she’s going to be talking about this all night. You both enjoy you're evening. Merry Christmas, Luci.”    

He smiled softly, enamored by her yet with the kindness of a best friend. “Merry Christmas, Lili.”    

“I completed the mission!” They all heard Charlotte in the background before Lilith shook her head and hung up the phone.    

“Well, I think I am going to go home after all of that...” He began to get up, but Alastor grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down.    

“No way... You have some explaining to do.” He leaned his face closer, a venomous grin. “A crush? How long?”    

“An embarrassing amount of time. The attraction from the beginning... I think I confused it for jealousy.”    

Alastor leaned closer. “Well, mine only started recently, still... I guess we have come to an agreement.”    

“Oh yeah?” Lucifer wrapped his arms around Alastor and pulled them chest to chest. “How so?”    

“That some sweets aren’t so bad.” He took another kiss, and Lucifer fell back until Alastor was on top of him, lost to each other’s lips and embrace, making it the best Christmas Alastor had had in five years.    

#   

Alastor adjusted the duck mug on his entertainment center beside the television. He smiled to himself until he noticed the time and rushed out the door. Step by step, he nearly skipped to the end of the Morningstar home and waited for his favorite morning routine to begin once again in the New Year. It was a particularly cold morning, foggy and grim, yet when the Morningstars exited their house, Alastor swore the sun was shining lustrously.    

Charlotte ran up to Alastor, leaping into a hug and pressing her warm cheek against his, but she couldn’t continue enjoying it as he placed her down to accept a kiss from the patriarch of the family. “Morning, duckie.”    

“Morning, deer.” Lucifer took another kiss before handing Alastor a to-go mug of freshly brewed coffee. With their free hand, they held the other and followed Charlotte toward the school.    

Alastor took a sip of his coffee and immediately gagged, spitting it out. “Lucifer, this one is yours!”    

“Oh! My bad... here... let me just...” He awkwardly tried to switch the thermals using one hand, refusing to let go of the one locked with Alastor’s. Eventually, they succeeded, and Alastor gulped his true coffee.    

They greeted plenty of townsfolk on the way down Main Street, many learning today that they were a pair. In a small-town like Hazbin, the buzz would be fluttering for the next week of their union, but neither cared. As they reached the corner where Alastor’s butcher shop rested, Charlotte sped off to the window of the shop beside it. The For Sale sign was now gone with a new sign replacing it: Under New Management.    

Charlotte pointed at the bakery case inside and looked over to the pair. “Dad, you can display the cookies there and some of the cakes. And we can add friers to the back for the beignets and...”    

“Calm down, Charlie. I still have to make the official closing of the deal. They could still back out on my offer,” Lucifer replied, a stammer hidden within his voice.    

“Only an idiot would refuse your offer. Plus, this town needs an excellent baker, and there is no one better than you for the job,” said Alastor, a shine on his smile mixed of pride and arrogance.    

“You say that because we are dating.”    

“I say that because I don’t like sweets and yet I like yours.”    

They stopped to kiss between the two shops, hopeful that their plans would go forward without a hitch. While Charlotte giggled at the sight of them kissing, she had to tap them to stop. “I’m going to be late.”    

“Shit... yeah, let’s keep going,” said Lucifer, pulling Alastor along Main Street toward the school.    

As they walked deeper into the snowy fog covering Hazbin, a new banner hid the original sign to Alastor’s shop, telling everyone that an upgrade was coming. It was a risk, but Alastor had left New Orleans to pursue a new life, even if he hadn’t expected it to also lead to a new love. Resting above the doorway, the sign read: Coming Soon – Grand Reopening, and the name that would soon become the two shops:   

Butchering and Beignets. 

Food Recipes:

Music:

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