Chapter Text
Lucifer had only just pulled away from Alastor, his lips still trailing slow, deliberate kisses up the demon’s chest, careful to avoid where the chest tape rested against his pale skin. He finally collapsed beside him with a soft sigh, eyes flicking toward Alastor’s dazed expression.
“Want me to run you a bath, bambi?” he asked gently, voice carrying that teasing lilt that always made Alastor’s ears twitch.
“Yes, please. That would be nice,” Alastor replied, sitting up and letting his legs dangle off the edge of the bed. His voice was soft, tired. The kind of tone that only came after a time like this, where he had just been handled so roughly and now being treated so kindly.
It hadn’t always been this complicated. Two months ago, they could hardly stand to be in the same room together. Every conversation ended in an argument, until one day, Alastor had snapped, telling Lucifer to “make him shut up.” So he did. With a kiss.
That kiss turned into a pattern, one they both refused to name. Whenever tempers flared, they burned off the tension in each other’s arms and bodies. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t supposed to be. And yet, Lucifer always offered aftercare. gentle touches, whispered reassurances, small kindnesses Alastor didn’t know how to refuse.
Lucifer busied himself with running the bath, adding bubbles until the surface shimmered white. He tuned the radio to a low, warm jazz station, something he knew Alastor liked, and went back into the bedroom.
Alastor was sitting where Lucifer had left him, shoulders trembling slightly. One hand rested over his stomach, the other covering his mouth.
“Bambi..? You okay?” Lucifer asked, voice softening as he stepped closer.
Alastor swallowed and looked up at him. “Yes… I think I will be. I’m just feeling a little nauseous,” he murmured, before standing. He didn’t make it far, the moment he reached the bathroom, he dropped to his knees and began to heave into the toilet.
“Alastor!” Lucifer rushed over, panic cutting through his usual composure. “Hey! what’s going on?” He knelt beside him, one hand stroking Alastor’s back as the other hovered uselessly in the air. After a few moments, when Alastor finally caught his breath, Lucifer asked, “Do you want to tell me what that was about?”
“I’m… not sure,” Alastor admitted, rubbing a hand over his abdomen, brow furrowed.
Lucifer nodded, already thinking ahead. “Take your bath. I’ll call Belphegor. She’s a doctor. She’ll know what to do.”
Alastor didn’t protest. He simply nodded and allowed Lucifer to help him into the tub. Once he was settled among the bubbles and his chest tape was off, Lucifer stepped out to make the call.
When he returned, he leaned against the doorway, phone still in hand. “Hey, Al. I got you an appointment in an hour. We should probably get going soon.”
Alastor only nodded again, quiet as he stepped out of the bath, wrapped a towel around his body, and began to dress into his usual outfit. Lucifer followed his lead, and soon they were heading down to the hotel lobby, where a sleek white and gold limo waited. One of Lucifer’s palace cars, summoned in a rush.
The drive to Sloth was quiet, save for the faint hum of the engine and the radio playing. Ten minutes later, they were sitting side by side in the waiting room, neither quite willing to meet the other’s eyes until Belphegor appeared and beckoned them into her examination room.
“So, Alastor,” she said, adjusting her glasses as she read from a clipboard. “Lucifer tells me you’ve been nauseous and throwing up?”
“That’s correct,” Alastor said evenly, though his ears were pinned flat against his head, a tell he couldn’t hide that he was uncomfortable. “And… I’ve been having some strange cravings as well.”
Belphegor smiled kindly, with tired eyes. “Alright, let’s take a quick blood sample. Results shouldn’t take more than an hour if you'd like to wait.”
She drew the sample with practiced ease, and the two demons retreated to the waiting room once again. The lights suddenly a lot brighter, the smell of disinfectant a lot harsher and the sounds of keyboards a lot louder. The stress of waiting always made such things seem a lot more vivid. An hour later, she returned, clipboard in hand and a knowing look on her face with her usual tired eyes but a slight smirk, knowing what they'd been doing.
“Congratulations, Lucifer and Alastor,” she said, handing them a sheet of paper. “You’re expecting. I’d like you to come back in six weeks for an ultrasound, alright?”
The room went silent. Both stared at the paper, the words blurring before their eyes in disbelief.
The drive back to the hotel was just as quiet. a tension that wasn’t anger for once, just disbelief and pure shock.
Once they reached Lucifer’s room, Alastor turned and shoved him back against the wall, eyes wide and voice sharp. “Lucifer! I said bite me, not breed me!”
Lucifer blinked, stunned for a beat, and then, softly, “Al… do you want to keep it?”
Alastor froze.
Lucifer’s tone became more gentle, uncertain but sincere. “If you do, I won’t leave. I’ll be the best dad I can be. I’ll be good to you, Al. I promise.”
Alastor’s glare faltered into something softer. “Lucifer… I’m not sure that's a good idea. We're not even dating,” he said quietly, his anger thinning into confusion and uncertainty.
“I can change that,” Lucifer said immediately, that familiar spark of pride returning to his voice. “Three dates. Romantic ones. Let me prove it to you.”
Alastor hesitated while he thought about it, then nodded slowly. “Three dates. After that, I’ll decide if I'd like to begin a relationship.”
Lucifer grinned. Genuinely, brightly. “Then they’ll be the best dates you’ve ever had, Bambi. I promise not to disappoint.” He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Alastor’s cheek.
For the first time in a long while, Alastor didn't pull away and let Lucifer spoil him in affection.