Ruination of Lucifer - Chapter 27 - Syaunei (2024)

Chapter Text

Alastor is still kneeling on the carpet, Lucifer lying on his back before him, eyes closed and smile irrepressible. His crimson horns are still on full display, and so are the rest of his demonic attributes – his slender black tail swishing across the carpet, the nimble barb on its tip occasionally brushing against Alastor’s knees.

The urge to pull at it itches across the palms of his hands.

“We should probably show our faces at the Hotel,” Alastor says, voice slightly compromised.

“Yeah, yeah…give me a minute.” Lucifer smirks. “Let me bask in the moment a little.”

Alastor wishes he could claim responsibility for Lucifer’s good mood, but he knows the sex was almost incidental. Sure, Lucifer may have been satisfied to experiment, but being handed this news – that redemption was possible – that seems to have put Lucifer in the kind of mood Alastor could never hope to induce, even if he tried.

Lucifer cracks an almost jaw-dislocating yawn and finally opens his eyes – still crimson and gold. Alastor can’t look away. Shattered glass litters the floor nearby, glistening with purplish-red edges.

“You’re staring, darling.” Lucifer states, merciless. “Why?”

“You have run out of questions for today,” Alastor says, unwilling to speak the truth unless it’s dragged out of him as part of their deal. For the next fourteen hours or so, he is safe from further excavations of information on Lucifer’s part.

“Ah. Fair enough.” Lucifer lets it go and looks at the shattered windows. “Almost a pity to fix them…”

“How so? Was what we did such a momentous occasion that it deserves a memento?”

Lucifer gives him a devilish look.

“Oh, it was momentous alright. More than you know.”

“Do you have anything in particular against this room?” Alastor inquires, wondering if perhaps this is the room where Lilith decided to throw her ring at him and announce her departure.

“This is the room where I learned my daughter was right all along. If that doesn’t deserve a permanent reminder, I don’t know what does?”

It’s such an evasive answer, but Alastor hasn’t the wherewithal to keep prying. Lucifer gets to his feet in front of Alastor and stretches again, the lines of his body taut and smooth. “Ungh,” Lucifer groans, and Alastor spies a trickle of fluid spilling down Lucifer’s pale thigh. “I should clean us both up.” His voice is almost mournful, but with a wave of his hand, the offending trickle vanishes without a trace, and a mild golden swoosh of magic washes over Alastor, leaving him feeling refreshed.

Lucifer then raises both of his hands and all the broken shards melt away, the air around them heated and distorted, and Alastor watches, agog, as the molten glass pours down from the top of the windows, filling in panes as it goes, and when it gets to the central one, Lucifer reforms the rectangular shape into a circle instead, what appears to be molten metal spreading like branches of a growing tree and the glass fills the spaces in-between. Alastor stares in astonishment as he realizes what he’s looking at, a brand new stained-glass window, depicting a black and purple snake ascending to the heavens in a stream of golden rays. The rest of the window shifts to accommodate the addition and clear glass fills out the rest of the windowpanes. He can hear a snap of fingers and a small golden plaque appears on the bottom edge of the rounded window-insert. It’s too far away to read.

“What does the inscription say?” Alastor asks as he turns towards Lucifer, who appears quite satisfied with himself, barbed tail swishing lazily behind him.

“Sir Pentious – First to be Redeemed. And two dates, the battle and today.”

“I presume you wish to break the good news to everyone at the hotel?” Alastor inquires.

Lucifer looks at him with a perplexed frown. “What, are you crazy?”

Alastor is taken aback by that response and watches Lucifer shake out his legs until his human feet appear, then walks to the piano, where he snatches his underwear from the music rack and puts it back on.

“Wait… did you talk to Heaven… without your underwear on?”

Lucifer turns to him, still crimson horned and golden eyed and starts laughing himself silly. The image of the literal devil in his pink pinstriped underwear is almost unbearably ridiculous. “Holy sh*t, aren’t you a f*cking priss about the weirdest things?”

“A…priss.” Alastor deadpans, insulted.

“Yeah!” Lucifer cackles. “You f*cked me like the second coming of Cthulhu, and now you’re scandalized by the fact I went commando during a mirror call? Ah ha ha ha, you’re killing me!”

“There’s no need to be so crass, is there?” Alastor says in distaste, finally standing up. His shadow hands him the underwear Lucifer magically stripped from him and cackles at Alastor mockingly before disappearing.

“Crass?” Lucifer looks at him incredulously. “What words should I use then, if the term ‘f*cking’ offends you? Fornication?”

Alastor huffs as he steps into his boxers and pulls them up.

“Or maybe I should call it – doing the nasty? Shagging? Letting you smash?” Lucifer is straight up giggling. “How about ‘riding the baloney pony’? Is that better?”

“Of course it’s NOT better!” Alastor snaps at him, mortified.

“Aww, have I offended your puritanical sensibilities?” Lucifer croons. “Should I use a more clinical term? Does ‘copulate’ satisfy you?”

Alastor makes a disgusted grimace and buttons his underwear.

“No good?” Lucifer mocks him, deeply amused. “Perhaps I should use an older, more obscure term, hmm? What about… ‘Riding a dragon upon St. George’? No? Aw.”

“You can stop now,” Alastor says warningly, having had enough of Lucifer’s humiliating remarks to last him a decade.

“Ok, ok… maybe I was too crass. Maybe a blushing maiden needs to be courted?” Lucifer says sweetly, his tail brushing against Alastor’s cheek. “I’ve got another one for you – ‘to arrive at the end of the sentimental journey’. Is that less offensive?”

In Alastor’s opinion, all of it is offensive.

“Or maybe… you want to call it ‘making love’?” Lucifer says deceptively mild. “Do you want to make love with me, Alastor?”

“This conversation is over,” Alastor spits out.

Lucifer chuckles and takes his infernally sinuous tail away.

“And I need that shirt back.” Alastor remarks coldly. “Now, if you please.”

“What if I don’t please?” Lucifer smiles mischievously at him, picking up one side and bringing it to his nose to inhale deeply. “It smells like you, maybe I would like to keep it?”

Alastor’s fingers twitch. Lucifer’s ass probably smells like Alastor by now, should that mean he gets to keep that?

“Do you enjoy humiliating me?” Alastor asks, irritated beyond measure.

“Humili-“ Lucifer exclaims, visibly perturbed. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not excused.” Alastor all but snarls. “Now, would you please stop your nonsense and give me my clothing back?”

Lucifer raises his hands, all of his demonic attributes fading from his countenance until he looks much as he always does, soft and mildly ridiculous. “Wait, wait, wait. What humiliation are you talking about?”

Alastor frowns. “All of the unsavory terms for… sex… that you threw in my face?”

Lucifer huffs out a half-aborted laugh, appearing utterly bemused. “That…was…not — hah.”

“That was not what? Designed to make me uncomfortable? Meant as mockery?”

Lucifer lets out a wheezing groan of exasperation. “Jesus, you are SUCH a prickly little drama queen.”

“And you are unforgivably rude.”

“And you, my deer demon, are a f*cking prude. Ha!” Lucifer quips, appearing deeply satisfied with his little joke.

“Still insulting.” Alastor points out.

“Okay, fine, I see you can’t take a joke this morning.” Lucifer shakes his head and shrugs out of Alastor’s shirt. “Just so you know, I was trying to flirt with you. But of course you’d take it as something nefarious…”

Alastor’s brows knit together. “You what?”

“Yes, you dumbass.” Lucifer chuckles as he shakes out the shirt and runs a hand over it, soft steam rising out of it, leaving it appearing clean and freshly-pressed. “I was teasing you.”

“By having fun at my expense?”

Lucifer looks at him like he’s suddenly expressed desire for redemption. “That’s…literally the definition? You know, banter? Jibing? Having a little laugh? Sue me for being in a good mood, f*ck.”

Lucifer extends the shirt Alastor’s way and shakes it impatiently, a clear indication that he wants to be rid of it. “For your information, only you would take me wanting your shirt as a f*cking insult. Most other lovers would be overjoyed.”

“Then go steal their shirts, your Majesty.” Alastor bristles and snatches his garment away.

“Look, you’re sniping at me for no reason. And I’m in too good of a mood to let whatever crawled up your ass and died to ruin it.”

Would it kill Lucifer to apologize?

“Is this a hurt ego thing?” Lucifer questions. “Cause that’s not what I was going for.”

Alastor snorts as he pushes his arms into the sleeves. A hurt ego thing!

“Alastor, come on. We just had a nice morning. Let’s not end it on a sour note?”

“I warned you to stop and you didn’t.” Alastor points out.

That actually gives Lucifer pause. “Yeah… you did.” He admits. “I thought… you were just embarrassed. But you’re right. I should have stopped when I realized it bothered you.”

Alastor is halfway into buttoning his shirt when he looks at Lucifer, who seems genuinely contrite. “Fine,” he says magnanimously. “Apology accepted.”

Lucifer offers him a weak smile and waves his hand, appearing fully clothed once more, hat included.

With a splintering crack, the smashed couch reforms next to Alastor, once more pristine.

“I thought destroying it was the entire point of this exercise?” Alastor asks, smoothing down his fully buttoned shirt.

“That’s cute.” Lucifer grins at him. “I’d call you cute but I’m scared you’d think I was insulting you again.”

“Your tastes are… questionable.”

Lucifer laughs again, a full, deep-bellied laugh. “Of course they are, why else would I be into you?”

“Ok, that was definitely an insult.”

Lucifer chuckles and advances on him, pulling him down by tugging on Alastor’s shirt.

“Don’t be mad, Al. I enjoy verbally sparring with you.” And then he drops a brief, chaste kiss on Alastor’s lips before releasing him. “We should go.”

“You are planning on telling your daughter, aren’t you?”

“What, that we’re involved?” Lucifer waggles his eyebrows.

“Playing stupid doesn’t suit you. Save that for Mikey.”

“Ah ha ha!” Lucifer looks at him with bright eyes. “I will tell her the good news, in private. We have to decide what the best course of action is. If we carelessly broadcasted the news for all of Hell to hear, there would be pandemonium. You don’t just break that kind of news without preparing for it.”

“So, are you going to do the same thing that Heaven did – hide it?” Alastor says in disgust.

“There is hiding, and there is being strategic.” Lucifer points out. “Do you want riots in the streets? Do you want a horde of demons trying to break into the hotel with us being unable to accommodate for the numbers? Stop for a second and think, Alastor.”

When he puts it that way, Alastor supposes it makes sense. They have plenty of room in the Hotel, but it’s not like the space and the resources are infinite. They would need more staff, additional security… it would be a logistical nightmare.

“I can see the challenges a sudden influx of guests would cause, I suppose.”

“Good!” Lucifer exclaims, waving his hand to mend the shredded carpet beneath their feet. “Glad we’re on the same page here.”

“Will I be consulted about these future steps you intend to take?”

“Do you want to be?” Lucifer asks blithely.

“Seeing how I am the host of the entire establishment-“

“Co-host, technically.” Lucifer points out and Alastor narrows his eyes at him in irritation.

“Seeing how I helped Charlie establish the damned thing in the first place, not being consulted would be counter-productive in the extreme. I keep the whole place running smoothly.”

“Bitch, please.” Lucifer looks at him flatly. “Your minions man the place; you only walk around looking vaguely creepy and menacing.”

“I defended the damn place before you deigned to show up and flex your vast angelic powers!”

“Well, I’m flexing them now!” Lucifer fights back, face close enough to Alastor’s that their noses are almost touching.

Alastor snarls and kisses Lucifer, fingers tangled in his coat, pulling him up.

f*ck him and his angelic powers and never having to get his f*cking hands dirty.

Lucifer moans against his mouth, lips falling open, but Alastor doesn’t deepen the kiss and pulls away instead.

Lucifer is looking up at him, visibly flustered. “What was that for? N-not that I’m complaining, mind you!”

“That was to shut you up.” Alastor says in a superior tone. “The only method I have found thus far that actually seems to work.”

Lucifer flushes. “Fine. Okay. You win this one.”

“Good.” Alastor says smugly and releases Lucifer’s tailcoat. “Now, would you mind opening a portal back to your room at the hotel? I left all of my clothes in your bathroom.”

“I recall…” Lucifer smiles. “It was nice seeing your corset again, even if it wasn’t on you at the time.”

“…is that flirting again?” Alastor asks, perturbed that he cannot be certain.

“Mmm,” Lucifer purrs happily. “So you can learn.”

Why is Lucifer flirting with him? What is the point of such a thing when they have a deal already in place? Alastor is already ensnared – Lucifer needs no further trappings to make sure of that.

Lucifer snaps his fingers and a swirling gold portal appears. “Duty calls…” Lucifer sighs, happiness lingering in his expression. “Come along, then.”

Alastor steps through the portal after Lucifer and hears it fizzle out of existence behind him.

“Really? Leading me straight into the bathroom?” Alastor notes drily.

“What?” Lucifer shrugs massively. “That’s where you needed to go?”

Alastor gives him an unimpressed stare. Lucifer proceeds to ignore it and squeals in happiness. “Oh, look! Your monocle!” Before Alastor can do a damned thing, his monocle vanishes in a puff of golden smoke and Lucifer turns to him with a triumphant grin. “How does it look on me? Good?”

He stares at Lucifer, fully dressed in his pristine white finery, wearing Alastor’s monocle. It looks… deeply disturbing.

“Should I just get you my entire outfit as a costume?” Alastor asks, quirking an eyebrow. “Would that finally make you happy?”

Lucifer gapes, utterly outraged (yet still amused, for all that). “You bitch!”

“What? It was a perfectly logical offer after you trying to abscond with multiple pieces of it.”

“Now who’s being insulting? You make it sound like I’m a kid in need of a Halloween costume!”

Alastor wants to say that Lucifer’s entire outfit looks like a tacky Halloween costume already, but bites his tongue.

“You just thought of something insulting, didn’t you?” Lucifer narrows his eyes at him accusingly.

“Are you going to punish me for thinking now? I chose not to say it; that should be good enough for you.”

“Ha! So it WAS insulting!”

Was Lucifer seriously fishing now? This was getting utterly ridiculous.

“Do I have to kiss you again?” Alastor threatens.

Lucifer’s eyes go wide. “I mean… hah. Ha ha. You’re already using that against me, shame on you.”

“Do you want to try on something else of mine or are you planning on hovering nearby as I dress myself?”

“Sheesh!” Lucifer exclaims, embarrassed, taking the monocle off and dropping it onto the pile of Alastor’s clothing with a flick of the wrist. “Just tell me I’m not wanted in here, no need to be so damn catty about it!”

“You’re not wanted in here while I’m changing.” Alastor says flatly. “Now go away.”

Alastor exhales, bracing himself against Lucifer’s gleaming marble countertop. This day is starting to feel absolutely interminable, and it isn’t even noon yet. His expression in the mirror hovers between inscrutable and tormented. Lucifer’s playfulness keeps catching him off guard.

And then there’s the matter of ascension.

A sinner…has been successfully redeemed. A feat nobody truly thought possible, save for the delusional princess of hell, Charlotte Morningstar. Hah. Not so delusional after all.

Lucifer was correct, this changed things. It made Hell not necessarily a permanent place designed for eternal punishment, but potentially a purgatory instead – a pit stop on the way to the final destination. Alastor takes his shirt off so he can put his corset on first. If sinners can be redeemed… that means there are certain conditions that can be met – an entry ticket into Heaven. So, what did Sir Pentious do that got him in there? Was it the heroic self-sacrifice? Or something else? Surely that couldn’t be the only criteria…

A thought strikes then, unbidden and frightening – what happened to soul deals if one ascended? To the best of his knowledge, Sir Pentious didn’t have any thralls, save for the egg minions he’d created, but they weren’t enslaved souls, merely mechanical constructs. Could only souls unencumbered by deals ascend?

Alastor tightens the laces on his corset, feeling chilled to the bone. What if…

What if ascension could break pre-existing deals? Otherwise, an entire army of thralls would automatically be redeemed alongside their Overlord in case one died, which seemed like a rather large loophole in this entire business, and as such, very unlikely to occur. What if each enslaved soul only added to the burden of sin on the owner, putting their own redemption out of reach?

And Alastor… he has…quite a number. Not as many as some of the others…but more than enough to matter if this was the case. More than enough to be condemned – irredeemable.

He shakes off the thought as he finishes lacing himself up and ties a sturdy knot. He could never fulfill any of the other criteria anyhow. Whatever nonsense about remorse and saying sorry Charlie keeps spewing doesn’t apply to him. He doesn’t regret any of his actions that led to the tumble into the pit, except his ill-conceived first deal that cost him his freedom.

He couldn’t have known, he tells himself. It had been worth it at the time.

It was still worth it. After all, there was nothing in heaven waiting for him except his no doubt disappointed mother. He would be so bored up there he’d probably start murdering angels left and right only so he could be sent right back down here. No. It was far better to set his sights upon something that was achievable – namely, capitalizing on his sway over Lucifer.

The devil himself had been flirting with Alastor today. Was that simply out of sheer unmitigated boredom or was Lucifer actually serious? Was his banter just an attempt at finding joy, any scrap of it that could be eked out in Hell, or did he genuinely want something from Alastor save temporary amusem*nt? Their deal was about Alastor ‘entertaining’ Lucifer, such as it was. If he played into it, could he get more out of Lucifer? Get his humiliation’s worth?

Playacting romance – how hard could it be?

Offer the occasional compliment, a trifle of his supposed affection; engage Lucifer in this banter he seems to appreciate so much?

Alastor dresses himself in his shirt, buttoning it for the second time this morning.

This was doable, he thinks to himself. Perhaps a new gift was in order – something celebratory for the so-called good news that only him and Lucifer knew so far (in Hell, anyway). After seeing Lucifer in crimson for the better part of the morning, Alastor’s brain jumps right back into the idea of seeing him in a dress… A dinner, perhaps? Followed by dancing? The excuse was plausible enough, Alastor simply needed to procure a suitable garment to gift to Lucifer…

As his mind catalogues tailors and boutiques in the Ring, he dresses in his slacks. Perhaps he should peruse all of them first, just to get an idea of the offerings, and if he doesn’t like anything he finds, there was always the option of sketching something himself – wouldn’t be the first time. He hums speculatively as he affixes his bowtie. What about his own attire? He should probably get something to complement whatever outfit he procures for Lucifer, ah, so many possibilities… The only thing he knows for sure is that it has to be crimson. Perhaps with a touch of black, or gold…

Alastor steps into his boots and then reaches for his coat. The mirror no longer reflects anything amiss with his expression. Good. He puts his coat on and buttons it closed; then pushes his fingers into the gloves. His monocle goes on last and Alastor takes stock of his appearance. Nothing stands out. He doesn’t look like he’s had dregs of angelic blood pulled out of his eyes, or like he’s f*cked Lucifer so hard he managed to shatter his windows.

And he definitely doesn’t look like he’s now in possession of one of the most damning and explosive pieces of information in the entirety of Hell.

He rolls his shoulders and steps out of the bathroom.

“I thought you’d died in there,” Lucifer snickers from behind his desk.

“I would not go quietly, I assure you.” Alastor snipes back automatically.

Lucifer snorts. “I suppose you’d like a portal back to your quarters to avoid the walk of shame?”

“There is no shame involved.” Alastor states regally.

“None?” Lucifer remarks, brows lifting curiously. “Interesting.”

“Why? Should I be ashamed of bedding you?”

“I can’t answer that,” Lucifer says lightly as he scratches something on a piece of parchment. “I’m not in your head.”

Alastor makes a non-committal noise in the back of his mouth.

Lucifer snaps his fingers and a portal appears in front of Alastor, revealing the parlor in his quarters.

“What will we do about that whole…ascension situation?” Alastor asks.

Lucifer looks at him and says nothing for a long moment. “Let me worry about that. It’s not like we won’t stay in touch anyway.”

“Are you going to call on me again soon?” Alastor asks with what he hopes passes for flirtatious demeanor.

“You sound almost… eager, my deer friend.” Lucifer remarks playfully, crossing his legs.

“Friends, are we?” Alastor muses aloud. “And here I thought we were enemies with benefits?”

“I treat my friends better than my enemies, I promise.” Lucifer says airily.

“I will keep that in mind.” Alastor smiles at him and gives him a tiny bow (actually just a minor head tilt, but who’s keeping score?) “À bientôt!” With that, he nonchalantly strolls through the portal and steps into his eerily quiet quarters.

The portal dissipates behind him.

They both have work to do.