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It was totally normal to be curious, Lucifer assured himself. It was only natural, given how obviously different everyone acted when it came to it. Now that he was making a conscious effort to pay more attention to the goings-on in Hell, he, of course, was becoming more aware of certain aspects of how things worked.
He saw that the political structure of Pentagram City had greatly evolved since the last time he checked in, with new Overlords and Committees dedicated to ensuring some semblance of structure. He saw that technology had grown by leaps and bounds, capitalism had a firm grip on every echelon of society, and that Sinners were somehow more obnoxious than ever.
One of the things that had irked him the most was the fact that, while Sinners had always been crass and vile, they were now crass, vile, and insolent. While he had hardly ever deigned to wander among them, the few times that he had ventured out, they had always stayed clear of him, running away, screaming in fear, or cowering in terror. He had expected the same when he finally visited Charlie at the Hotel, but those expectations had been quickly dashed.
He had imagined swooping in to Charlie’s little playhouse, magicking up some little trinkets for some brownie points, basking in the gratified adoration his princess would shower him with as a result, and having a little fun sparking some fear of the divine in the peons surrounding his little duckling.
Instead, Charlie had been insulted when he offered so many “improvements” to her project, taking it as criticism and judgment rather than the support and eagerness that he intended. She had been frantic, nervous, and passionate all in turns, crushing his dreams of a heroic return to her side as her protector. In fact, she had been the one to corral him, urging him to stop everything he had planned and forging her own path ahead staunchly without him.
And the worst part?
There were mortal witnesses to his complete bungling of the whole affair, a motley crew of Sinners that he barely paid attention to with all that was going on. Later, once the extermination had been thwarted and the Hotel was being rebuilt, he realized that the Sinners who were helping to rebuild his daughter’s dream were the same ones he vaguely recalled watching him and Charlie argue about Heaven prior to him setting up the meeting. He then made an effort to observe them, since his daughter obviously cared about them, and they seemed to somehow care for her in return.
There was what he tended to think of as the help led by Charlie and her lovely little girlfriend: a grumpy drunkard of a bartender, a hyperactive gremlin of a maid, and that absolutely inferior, pathetic, egotistical, try-hard, sad excuse for a frontman-
-anyway-
And then, there was the spider. He wasn’t quite the help, from what Lucifer could gather, but nor was he just a guest. He had been there the longest, and from the little he had managed to understand from Charlie’s overly excited chatter, he was just a normal Sinner. He wasn't an Overlord; he wasn't even a free soul, contracted under an incredibly restrictive deal with one of the worst Overlords in all of Hell, somehow surviving under deplorable conditions for decades.
Despite the apparently widespread knowledge of his unfortunate situation, this Angel Dust was incredibly cocky. He constantly flirted with everyone; when he wasn’t flirting, he was snarky, bold, or presumptive. He constantly invaded everyone’s personal space; he sprawled over entire surfaces, taking up more than his fair share. He posed on the bar despite the bartender’s loud annoyance, and he poked and prodded at Charlie’s girlfriend to the point that steam nearly came out of her ears. He was messy, leaving his belongings in common spaces and frustrating the maid. He intruded upon the bellhop’s insanely large personal space bubble, resulting in loud screeches of static and threats. And to Charlie, Angel was openly dismissive of some of her ideas, brutally pointing out the naivety of her optimism and deflating her joy.
However, much to Lucifer’s incredible confusion, everyone seemed to be incredibly tolerant of him. Whenever he lounged on the sofas or chairs, no one asked him to sit up properly or move over. If he plopped down on the clean bartop, the bartender grouched but continued serving him drinks and providing his pig snacks. When Charlie’s girlfriend finally snapped and began cursing and shouting, she always stomped away to take out her aggression on someone else, leaving the spider snickering and victorious. While other residents found a crazed diminutive cyclops chasing them around with a giant needle, Angel was merely pouted and screeched at until he cleaned up his belongings. Though any other soul who invaded the red guy’s personal space would be blasted away by magic, spirited away by shadows, or, on a few occasions, eaten, Angel always skated by with a rough shove away or a prod of the microphone. And while Charlie was always upset by Angel’s criticisms of her ideas, she always asked him for a better solution or thanked him for his input.
He didn’t get it. Why did this Angel Dust get such special treatment?
A specific moment cemented his certainty that something was going on. He happened to be in the lobby at the right moment to see the Angel Dust effect happen in real time. A new arrival had just joined the ranks of the hotel guests, having somehow heard about the hotel and had shown up asking for a tour. Charlie, eyes literally sparkling with delight, had jumped on the opportunity to check the new client in and was introducing them to everyone.
“-over at the front desk is Vaggi, our hotel manager, and my lovely girlfriend! She knows all about being good and avoiding sin, since she used to be an Angel, so be sure to ask her if you ever get confused. She and our wonderful host, Alastor, over here can help you with any issues that arise, whether it’s logistical or…well…interpersonal. Alastor is one of our sponsors as well; he’s an Overlord and not too interested in redemption, but he provides lots of help when it comes to defending the Hotel. And that’s Niffty, our maid! She’s…enthusiastic! And Husk, he can help you if you need a break or a drink, he’s our bartender! All of them have been in Hell for a while now, so if you have any questions, just ask! I know you said you’ve only been down here for about a year.”
“Oh, uh…hello there, everyone.” The new arrival stuttered out, looking overwhelmed. She was a shy-looking young woman with three large, watery eyes and bat-like ears. Her smile looked more like a grimace, but Charlie barely noticed as she continued on with the introductions in her usual cheerful way.
“This is my dad, Lucifer! He helped us to rebuild the hotel!”
“Lucifer…as in…?”
“Yes, yes, as in the king of Hell, but don’t worry, he’s super nice, and you’re totally safe here!” Charlie assured, and while Lucifer chafed a little at being described as “super nice”, he still flashed a quick smile and nodded at his daughter’s newest guest. The Sinner merely blinked at him, looking him up and down uncertainly before nodding back.
Charlie, pleased with how smoothly all the introductions were going, looked around the room searching for anyone she had missed. “Oh, and I guess I should introduce you to our premier guest!” Charlie dragged the Sinner over to the front desk, beaming. “Betty, this is Angel Dust!”
“Hey there, sugar,” Angel drawled from his spot perched on the end of the check-in desk. He slurped loudly on the lollipop in his mouth, snickering at Vaggi’s look of disgust. His legs were outstretched over the surface, and Vaggi sighed as she nearly had to climb over his shin to grab a pen to hand to the client along with the check-in ledger. “Welcome to da Hotel and all that shit.”
The manager handed the pen over to the new Sinner, but the Sinner's fingers failed to grip it properly. The pen fell to the floor, slipping out of slack fingers. Charlie, leaning down to retrieve the pen, glanced up just in time to see the new client point a shaking finger at Angel.
“Oh…my…I…that’s… you’re Angel Dust!” Everyone in the lobby looked over as the new girl began jumping up and down excitedly and shrieking. “I’ve seen your billboards! And your fashion spreads! And your movies! You’re a legend!”
“In the flesh, baby! Nice to meet ya, Bets. ” Angel laughed with a sly grin, sitting up and reaching out with an elegant hand. Betty began gushing, shaking it vigorously with both hands, and trembling with excitement.
Lucifer had looked on in bemusement. The new girl had hardly seemed shaken at being introduced to the various powerhouses that filled the Hotel, barely blinking at the sight of an ex-angel, current Overlord, and the literal Devil. So why was she nearly hyperventilating at the sight of some random nobody Sinner?
It wasn’t an isolated incident, either. There were several instances in which Angel Dust received preferential treatment from guests or staff that no one else received. Angel often could cut the line at the bar, say things with more impunity, and just overall get away with things that would have gotten anyone else, King of Hell himself included, thrown out immediately. As the two guests conversed, Lucifer finally decided to get to the bottom of the mystery. He spent the day walking around the hotel and asking why the spider Sinner got such special treatment, but no one seemed willing to give him a straight answer.
“Well, it’s partly because of his job. He works really hard!” Charlie had offered distractedly when he asked why Angel was allowed to duck out of the latest arts and crafts activity. “He’s given up a lot and gave us a chance when no one else would, as our first guest. The least we can do is be understanding, especially considering his job!”
“He’s one of those types that he has to want to participate; he won’t jump in just because he’s told,” Vaggi told him when Lucifer asked why Angel Dust wasn’t ordered to complete his assigned chores for the day. “Plus, I wouldn’t want to take out the trash or do dishes after a day with Valentino either. As much as he makes it look easy…well…it’s whatever.”
“Angel’s just…Angel,” the bartender huffed, carefully sliding a lemon slice onto the edge of a martini and setting it to the side despite the long line of waiting customers. Across the bar, Angel basked in the attention of some other guests, posing with a salacious smile, legs kicked up, and hair spilling across the bar surface. “If anyone around here needs a drink, it’s him. He might like his work, but it takes a toll on him for sure.”
“I absolutely do no such thing!” The deer denied quickly when Lucifer asked why he gave Angel special treatment right after observing the spider smack a kiss on the host’s cheek before cackling and running away after stealing his cup of coffee. Lucifer raised an eyebrow, glancing back and forth between the indignant Sinner and the door where Angel had disappeared. He leaned an inch closer to the Overlord, but was pushed back by a tentacle made out of shadows. When Lucifer gestured frantically at the stark difference between the reactions, the pompous bastard had the audacity to roll his eyes. “I’m afraid our resident chippie is beyond retraining when it comes to personal space and proper behavior. Little wonder, given his unfortunate boss and work environment. You, on the other hand, have no such excuse. Five feet, please.”
Lucifer did not bother to ask the maid; she scared him.
The only thing that all of the answers had in common was the fact that everyone agreed that Angel Dust had a very rigorous job outside of the hotel, and something about it made him worthy of special treatment. Lucifer, completely oblivious to any personal details of any Sinner in Hell, decided to go to the source.
“So…what is it exactly that you do?” Lucifer asked one evening, finding Angel lounging on a couch in the lobby. The spider glanced over, his phone tilting down as he paused in his typing.
“Whaddya’ mean, hot stuff?”
“I mean…for a job. What’s your job?”
“Ha!” Angel arched up into a sitting position, arms curling around his knees as his eyes twinkled in amusement. “I’m the biggest porn star in Hell, baby! The face of lust here in the Pride Ring! The number one sex worker this side of mortality! Ooh, you really have been livin’ unda’ a rock, ain’tcha?” Angel unfolded himself from his perch, walking over to Lucifer with a distinct sway in his stride. Lucifer’s hands tightened on his staff as Angel studied him closely, bending in half at the waist to bring their faces into closer proximity. This close, Lucifer could smell vanilla and strawberries, as sweet as sugar.
Angel peered at him in concentration, the mismatched eyes somehow penetrating and unsettling, but oddly mesmerizing. They widened a bit before narrowing in amusement. “Oh, that’s interesting.”
“W-what is?” Lucifer asked, hating how his voice quavered beneath the penetrating stare.
“Oh, nothin’ big. Just…surprised. I can usually tell a lot about what a fella’s into…it’s kind of a special skill of mine. Everyone’s got a thing; it’s all about the vibe they give off. And for you? Well, if you’re actually interested, you’d do best with my earlier stuff. I’m thinkin’ Daddy’s Gift would be right up your alley. That one’s from about forty years ago; back then, I had a lot more say in the script, but it’s new enough that the production was still big budget. It’s still in circulation, but it never went to streaming. The store on Sin Circle probably has a few copies left. Should be perfect for you. Anyway, nice talkin’ with ya, Hell Daddy.” Before Lucifer could think of a response, Angel sauntered away, humming a soft song to himself with a mysterious smile.
Lucifer had tried to ignore the exchange, but he had wondered what exactly it was that the Sinner had so boldly concluded about him and what vibe he apparently gave off. A few days after the exchange, he found himself holed up in his room with a copy of the movie that Angel had recommended, staring at the case warily. It seemed innocuous enough; it featured a picture of a dimly lit bed on which Angel was posing coquettishly with his back to the viewer, tied up in hot pink ribbon.
Lucifer was never really one for pornography, so the titillating image didn’t really do anything for him. He huffed out a humorless laugh; what was he so worked up over? Obviously, Angel Dust was just assuming things about Lucifer based on his usual clientele; those creatures can’t compare to him! He was the King of Hell! An angel crafted by God directly! A creature of the divine, untouched by mortality and the pitfalls that came with it!
He had nothing to worry about; he could just watch the stupid movie, and nothing would change. And then he could go right up to that presumptuous Sinner and knock him down a few pegs, reasserting his authority and commanding him to really commit to Charlie’s program. Then everyone would respect him for seeing through Angel’s false confidence, and Charlie would be grateful for his help in motivating her prime guest.
Invigorated by the thought, Lucifer popped the disc into his player and settled back with a skeptical grin. This would be a piece of cake.
Oh.
Oh no.
As the ending credits scrolled across the screen, Lucifer hastily grabbed for a nearby bedsheet and wiped his hand clean. His thighs were still trembling with the force of his orgasms (yes, plural!), and he was pretty sure his tongue was bleeding from biting it in his attempt to keep quiet.
He hadn’t expected- and those legs…not to mention the sounds- and the athleticism? He knew he had an affinity for that position, but coupled with…and added to the…and how could THAT be so hot?
How in the nine circles of Hell did this random Sinner size him up so well with just a look? He didn’t even know he had some of those kinks himself. Hell, he didn’t even know if the thing with the teeth and the ribbon counted as a kink, but if it does, he’s pretty sure he has it now.
Lucifer hid himself in his room for the remainder of the day. He made it about an hour before he began second-guessing his initial reaction to the film and decided to watch it again, positive that his strong reaction was an unfortunate fluke caused by his own negligence in taking care of his…uh…urges, combined with the shock of being exposed to such explosive imagery and sounds. Surely his reaction was the result of being unprepared; this time would go differently-
Well, this time he came even faster, so that does technically count as going differently, though not exactly the way he had expected. But from that first gasp, that moan, the way the spider’s voice went so soft and pleading-
Shit.
The next day, Lucifer went downstairs at his usual time, determined to act as though nothing had changed. So, a Sinner had gotten him a bit hot and bothered, so what? He was a healthy, virile, proud pansexual; of course, he was pent up after so many years in isolation! He had just been…surprised by the blatant sexuality; it was reasonable, expected, even, given Heaven’s perspective on lust and his decades of isolation with only his (admittedly gorgeous) wife and her hot-and-cold temperament.
He could handle himself just fine; he’s sure it was all out of his system by now anyway!
And then he heard a burbling giggle and a sharp voice exclaiming in pleased surprise, and Lucifer sprinted for the kitchen, wings flapping for an extra boost of speed. The cool breeze did little to cool the golden blush suffusing his face. He swept through the doors, yanking them shut behind him and leaning his back against them with a gusty sigh.
He stood up and straightened out his coat, belatedly realizing that nearly all of the staff were present in the kitchen and had witnessed his less-than-graceful entrance.
“Uh, Dad? Everything okay?”
“Haha, I’m good, we’re okay, it’s all okay, it’s amazing how okay things are, ahaha!” Lucifer laughed nervously, wincing as he heard how high-pitched and manic it sounded. The rest of the room just stared at him, aside from the red guy, who continued calmly chopping onions for the breakfast frittatas.
Lucifer walked over to pour out a cup of coffee from the percolator, feeling overly conscious of everything. How did he normally walk? Did he usually swing his arms that stiffly? He robotically took a spoonful of sugar and stirred it in, wincing as the spoon clanged painfully loudly against the ceramic of his mug in the still quiet room.
“Ohhhh-kay then,” Charlie eventually dragged out, exchanging a befuddled look with Vaggi. Soon, the rest of the staff resumed normal operations, the maid shuffling around her boss’s feet, picking up scraps, and bustling around to hand him ingredients. Charlie and Vaggi loaded up plates on a tray as the dishes were finished, and without asking, Lucifer lifted the pile of clean and bundled silverware with magic, walking to the dining area and heaving a sigh of relief once he was out of view. There were already a few early risers wandering around the hotel, but none of them paid him any mind as he snapped his fingers and distributed the silverware at all the placemats.
His contribution finished, Lucifer took his preferred seat well out of the way from the hustle and bustle, settling back into the chair with a deep sip of coffee. The rest of the hotel staff brought in the prepared food, and soon the air was filled with the sound of contented chewing, morning greetings, and pleasant chatter.
Lucifer took a contented bite of his frittata, humming at the fluffy eggs and kicking his feet contentedly. He had the feeling that the host was somewhere around, watching everyone eat, and probably gloating over the fact that his cooking was so widely enjoyed, but damn, if it didn’t taste too good to pretend otherwise.
“Good mornin’ bitches! Iffn’ I was Irish, I’d make some kinda joke about top a’ the mornin’ from Hell’s favorite bottom, but oh, well. Whose dick do I gotta suck to get a cappuccino around here?”
Lucifer choked on his eggs.
Charlie panicked and smacked her father’s back while several Sinners, led by Betty, hurried to supply Angel with a cup and a chair, sliding over a plate and just in general making themselves useful.
The soft bite dislodged with a solid whack from Charlie, and Lucifer gasped wheezily as he struggled to breathe. Charlie’s hands flapped nervously around her father, as though wanting to check on him but not sure where to start.
“Uh, sir, are you okay?” Charlie’s one-eyed girlfriend asked him, but he was too busy trying not to stare at Angel’s cleavage. Even from across the room, the delicate curve of soft white fur peeking out from the low neckline looked so soft and inviting-
“Dad? Can I get you some water? Are you okay? Can you breathe? What is it? What’s wrong? You’re still flushed!”
Angel’s pinkie finger stayed lifted even when taking a delicate sip of his drink; it was a cute affectation.
“My, my, such a fuss. I would have thought the King of Hell was old enough to eat solid food; next time I’ll be sure to prepare a bottle.”
Lucifer would have protested, but Angel was giggling at something that Betty was saying and posing with a put-on pout as she held up her phone for a selfie. The sight of those lips, plush and full, puckered up was doing something to him-
“Here, take this.”
Lucifer startled in surprise as a golden brown liquid in a crystal snifter was placed right in front of him. He blinked asynchronously at the bartender, who was shooting him a strangely understanding look of pity.
“Drink up. I know that look. You shouldn’t have watched the video, but now that you have…welcome to the club.”
Charlie’s fluster petered out as the cat’s words sank in, and she let out a gentle gasp of understanding.
“Ohhhh, oh no, Dad, you watched one of Angel’s movies? Why would- how did you- when did he…oh geez,” she eventually sputtered to a stop, slumping down into her chair. Lucifer shot her a sideways glance, taking a slow sip of the whisky. To his surprise, the look she was giving him was completely devoid of judgment, disgust, or reproof. Instead, it could almost be called sympathetic.
“I guess I should have warned you before, but to be fair, you usually don’t take much of an interest in anyone! How was I supposed to know that you’d actually remember Angel’s name, let alone be curious enough to look into his work?”
“I mean, all of you gave him such special treatment! I got curious!” Lucifer protested in his defense, but it seemed unnecessary. Everyone at the table seemed strangely conmiserable, either nodding with rueful looks of understanding or watching Angel with the same fascination that Lucifer had been feeling all morning.
“I know how that goes,” the bartender grumped, claws clicking on the table. His widely dilated pupils fixated on Angel as the spider fixed his hair and spoke to the crowd surrounding him. “Kid was so damn smug and confident when he got here that I had to give his work a look. Soon as I saw him in lace and leather, I was fuckin’ done. Couldn’t look him in the eye for a solid week.”
“Angel is super hot! He told me about a movie where he got to beat up bad boys and then do all sorts of crazy things to them! I had to sign a liability waiver before the store let me buy it, promising not to sue them for any emotional damage or lasting trauma responses to seeing it! It was neato!” Lucifer jumped as the little red maid cyclops popped up over the bartender’s shoulder, single eye wide and manic as she giggled mischievously at the memory of the video. “I know that Charlie and Vaggi saw some of his movies, too!”
“He has a surprisingly informative series involving verbal validation and safe bondage practices that he recommended to another patron, and I checked it out,” Charlie admitted, looking over at Angel with a sparkle of admiration and no small amount of awe. “It completely revolutionized my understanding of some of his work! He truly has a gift for expressing beauty and intimacy on camera, right?”
Lucifer noticed that Charlie’s girlfriend looked uncomfortable with the topic, but she eventually managed a nod. “Yeah. Also, he told me to watch his Drag Me Down series. He has definitely been taking advantage of me since then, but I can’t help it. He’s probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, which is not fucking fair. I’m a lesbian, and even I found myself considering it. Angel could probably seduce a rock if he tried hard enough; hell, Alastor’s asexual, and I know Angel found his weak spot, too.”
The host had been blissfully ignoring them while eating his breakfast, but at this comment, he creaked his neck sideways with a glare and a crackle. “I beg your pardon?”
The ex-exorcist met his gaze defiantly. “You’ve been an absolute pushover for Angel for the last month; don’t try to deny it! I saw you letting him pet your ears! He had to have shown you something!”
To Lucifer’s amusement, the deer tried to hold out against the rest of the table, but the curious stares and expectant silence outlasted his resistance.
“Well, I might have sampled a few of his suggested flickers after he mentioned something called consensual vorarephilia. It was rather…illuminating. And that's all I will say on the matter."
“Riiiight,” the bartender drawled, eyes narrowed as he stared at his boss with suspicion. The deer completely ignored him, returning to his meal. The only sign he gave of his uneasiness was the backward tilt to his ears.
“The point is,” Charlie summarized, obviously trying to move past the tension, “Angel has a particular gift for being incredibly attractive, which lends itself to some…awkwardness when living with him. Once you’ve opened that particular can of worms, it can be very difficult to ignore, as you can obviously tell. So-”
“Oh, Charlie, no,” the red guy protested, deer ears still pressed back. “Don’t, please! I’m sure the King of Hell has much better things to do than that!”
“Now, Alastor, you know that’s not how it works! The hotel is all about solidarity and support, and leaning on other people who are going through the same things as you can be incredibly helpful! Besides, you barely even participate yourself, you’re hardly in a position to talk-”
“Participate in what, darling?” Lucifer interrupted, intrigued.
“In the Angel Simp Squad!” The tiny maid chirped, somehow spawning into existence on the armrest of Lucifer’s chair. “We call it ASS for short!”
“It stands for Attraction Strategies and Support, actually,” Charlie protested weakly, but rallied enough to shoot her father a bright smile. “We meet on Friday afternoons when Angel has work and discuss methods for coping with feelings that we are unable or unwilling to act upon.”
“It’s an excuse for all of you to send each other clandestine snapshots you’ve taken of Angel Dust throughout the week with your infernal cellular devices and gossip!” The red guy grumbled. “I hardly think the presence of yet another buffoon will be any sort of improvement.”
“Ignore him, Dad, we’d be happy to have you join us!”
Lucifer grinned. Obviously, his presence at this little meeting would both greatly annoy the resident pain-in-the-ass overlord, as well as provide the added bonus of an excuse for additional time with his daughter, who was personally inviting him.
Plus, he’s always had an appreciation for photography.