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Alastor was nowhere near as good at hiding his wounds as he thought he was, at least not in Lucifer’s eyes. He caught on to the weird behavior within 24 hours of his sudden return after the reconstruction of the hotel- the too tense shift in his ever present grin whenever Charlie hugged him, the almost unnoticeable slowness in his reaction time when the others approached him with an outstretched hand during conversation, the unmistakable feedback hiss in his radio feed when he shifted in just the wrong way.
It was infuriating.
The radio demon acting as if everything was okay to keep up appearances- to keep Charlie from worrying- because maybe he did care in his own fucked up way but it didn’t stop Lucifer’s skin from crawling every time they crossed paths and he caught the underlying scent of blood radiating from the deer. It seemed to infest every inch of the halls that the other traversed so frequently.
So there could be only one solution: he’ll simply get Alastor alone under the guise of a truce for his daughters’ sake and offer to take care of that wound for him! It was foolproof. He would be helping his daughter’s friend and he can stop pretending to worry about the man.
Within a day of coming up with this absolutely foolproof plan, the king of Hell was very quickly realizing that getting this demon alone was apparently a feat in and of itself. It’s almost as if Alastor knows he’s trying to corner him!
Lucifer tries catching him after one of Charlie’s morning pep talks (because he never misses one), but before he can even begin to speak the demon has dissolved into his own shadow off to some unknown part of the hotel or who knows where.
He could almost swear that shadow was laughing at him too.
The next time he spots the demon he’s chatting animatedly with Husker at the bar and there it is again- that tense ear flick from pain no doubt as he turns in his seat and the overwhelming smell of copper floods his nose just as the shorter man approaches- this time the deer waves him off mid sentence with some half assed excuse that he has a meeting with a friend that he just simply cannot be late for. And with a flourish of his cane the radio demon is gone yet again.
The blond can’t even hide the irritated growl that comes from his throat as the other man dissolves through the floors and metaphorically slips right through his fingers.
He’s tired of this little cat and mouse game already, especially considering the fact that he just wants to help the demon; knowing how distraught his daughter would be should anything happen to the man. So now it’s time to take drastic measures. Since clearly playing nice and casual wasn’t going to work in his favor.
Alastor can’t ignore a meeting that’s waiting for him inside his very own room - so that’s just where he’ll wait.
And wait he did.
It felt like an eternity just sitting and waiting and pacing and waiting and waiting some more. He needed Alastor to at least believe he didn’t have an ulterior motive so it’s not like he could start snooping around; not that he really wanted to.
Lucifer felt the demon’s presence approaching before the man’s hand ever touched the door handle to the room. He straightened himself up into a proper sitting position as Alastor opened up the door and made eye contact with the intruder that was sitting so casually in his room. The smile on his face faltered ever so slightly as his eye twitched in what could only be annoyance. “Well hello my good man! I don’t recall allowing you into my room. To what do I owe the .. pleasure.” The last word was punctuated with thinly veiled irritation beneath the usual radio static, to which Lucifer could only smile in response.
“Oh well I was just trying to catch you- seems like we could never line up our schedules, disappointing really. I just wanted to check up with you after-”
“Get out.”
Did- did he just interrupt him again? Again! That’s twice within a day goddammit. Where does he get off with the audacity-
Lucifer stands and in a flash of glittery red is suddenly mere inches away from the radio demon, eyes red as his patience has worn too thin.
“Now you listen here- I’m tired of smelling your blood in every corner of this hotel and watching you pretend like you’re not still hurt.”
Alastor’s ears flatten to his head. Injury aside he knows he’s no match for the actual King of Hell, if the man wanted to have his attention he was going to get it one way or another, and that feeling of being prey makes his skin crawl; his fingers tighten around his staff as he for once struggles to find the words to argue. The shrill hiss of radio feedback and his shadow growling behind him were the only real indication that the other had really gotten under his skin with his insistence.
He wasn’t stupid enough to keep pretending that this angelic wound would heal itself- his skin struggling to stitch itself back together on a nearly hourly basis- gash opening and closing and reopening again and again every time he moved. It had become quite the inconvenience admittedly so.
Suddenly the deer felt his knees hit the edge of his bed and he staggered down onto it. Caught off guard by not having realized the shorter man had been slowly corralling him backwards during their little standoff.
“Not so chatty now, are you Alastor? No smart remarks?” The brief smug look on Lucifer’s face is infuriating.
His jaw clenches. “Well you see, my dear, as much as this may surprise you, even I know when I cannot win a fight. What do you want from me?” The radio static that normally laces through his words has vanished for the moment as his claws dig into the sheets beneath him.
Lucifer is standing between the others legs, hovering over him like a predator staring down his prey. Although the inquiry makes his features soften in mild confusion.
“What do I want? I just want to help you, Al. Unfortunately for us my daughter cares a great deal about you and the rest of her friends so it’s up to me to do what I can to ensure that I help where I can. So I don’t need anything from you.” He reverts back to his typical soft self, arms crossed, and a concerned pout graces his features. “Look- just let me heal that before it gets any worse..angelic wounds can only truly be healed by angelic hands..” The radio demon’s claws are still dug into the sheets but his ears slowly return to their default position, and if he’d been a weaker man he would dare say that he was almost embarrassed looking into Lucifer’s pleading eyes.
“You have to ask something of me. I am not dumb- nothing here is given so freely.”
“Fine. A favor for a favor, then. I do this for you and you can ask a favor in return whenever you choose - within reason. I will not harm anyone for you- it must be an equal favor. Fair enough?”
The fallen angel extends his hand for a handshake and Alastor glares at him briefly (gotta keep up appearances) though the sudden damp feeling of blood pooling under his shirt stops him from arguing further. He takes Lucifer’s hand and flashes of green, red, and black swirl around them both as their deal is sealed.
“Alright- now that we’re done with that, would you care to take that shirt off?”
Alastor inadvertently tensed up again but nonetheless started to shrug off his coat and unbutton his undershirt revealing the reopened injury that stretched across his chest, vehemently avoiding eye contact with the man still standing between his legs. Something about having someone else’s hands on his skin made him feel… odd, but there was a cold reassurance about how concerned Lucifer looked about the rather ugly gash on his abdomen.
“Fuckin’ hell Alastor…” Lucifer practically growled to himself- muttering something about how stupid the deer was for keeping this hidden- and without another word his seraph wings unfurled and an oddly comforting white glow radiated from him as he placed his hand on Alastor’s chest. The touch was so light he could have sworn it wasn’t even there which seemed to put the demon even more at ease; he’d never been particularly fond of others touching him so it was a strangely welcoming feeling that he had not experienced in a good long while.
Lucifer’s brows furrowed with concentration as the gash in the other’s chest started to slowly stitch itself back together, the muscles contracting as they’re pulled taught once again, his ribs mending the cracks that still remained, and the skin finally sealing itself back together again. Alastor had begun to almost lose himself in the feeling of the pain that had been ebbing under his skin finally vanished.
Suddenly a damp washcloth had appeared in Lucifer’s hand and with too careful motions he wiped the blood clear from Alastor’s skin, an odd silence falling over the both of them for only a few short moments.
“Ahem- That will be just fine, your highness.”
“Huh? Oh! Right- right, you might want to take it easy for another day or two but you’ll be good as new. Next time let’s try not to wait so long for help.”
“I do not intend to let there be a next time.”
Lucifer clears his throat and steps away from the demon (are his cheeks more pink than usual?), readjusting his hat as the other fixes his clothing with a mere snap of his fingers before standing back up. The odd silence settles between them yet again and something in Alastor’s chest seizes and well- he just can not be having that, so he gives a quick twirl of his cane and plasters a more solid grin across his features as his shadow opens up the door to his room.
“Well this has been an absolute delight, your majesty! But I must be retiring for the day if you’ll excuse me. I… look forward to exchanging a fair favor with you soon.”
The seraph clears his throat and makes his way toward the door, pausing briefly to look back at the other man.
“You know where to find me! And do make sure to check in with Charlie so she doesn’t keep worrying, she’s got too much on her plate.”
Lucifer doesn’t give him a chance to respond as he closes the door behind him and makes his way back to his own tower, frowning at the plethora of odd feelings fluttering in his chest. Maybe it has been longer than he thought since he’s had any real contact with another person, it must be clouding his judgment. He hopes the feeling will pass though as he loses himself in his rubber duck creations it really doesn’t seem like it will.
Why, oh why, was he suddenly so eager to find out how his favor would be returned?