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As they always say, behind every great man is a woman…or in Lucifer’s case, a deer [Too bad Lillith isn’t here right now…]. A pretentious little prick that must’ve been slighted in some way during his prime, because why else would this douche bag insist on wearing so much red? With his fuckass bob-cut, gaudy, tattered crimson coat, and pretty [Ahem, Lucifer actually meant shitty] eyes, Alastor looks like one hell of a fucking joke. But unfortunately, Lucifer’s options in the dating game are rather limited. And the amount of people in his acquaintance is somewhat sparse.
He sure as fuck can’t bring any of the seven sins. Lucifer is desperate, but not that desperate. For obvious reasons, he’s not going to ask anyone else out at the hotel. And so, his only option is Alastor. The only good thing that song-stealing bitch has going for him are his height and…admittedly fluffy ears, but besides that—Nothing, nadda.
His type has always been someone tall who could and would kick his ass upon request, but Alastor’s so fucking scrawny. Literally, all you’d need to do is lightly tap him on the shoulder, and the man would crumple in half like a pretzel.
…Man, Lucifer’s kind of hungry right now…wait, focus.
Ever since the extermination that almost happened but never was…AKA, the one in-which Niffty stabbed Adam to death, business at the hotel…still kinda sucked. That blonde news anchor woman and her trench mask-wearing associate had been running a smear campaign against the hotel. And…made even worse by the fact that the Vees [Seriously, what kind of stupid name is that] have been endorsing them.
The first time Alastor caught wind of everyone in the lobby watching their news programming, he…really did one hell of a number on their only television set.
He promptly walked away, twirling his microphone staff as he muttered something about ‘Idiotic, perverted picture boxes.’
Lucifer deeply suspected that ‘talking picture box’ really wanted to fuck Alastor.
…So, after Alastor’s temper tantrum had subsided, Lucifer decided to do some digging around out of boredom [Well, more like Angel Dust did some digging around. Lucifer decided to chase after Alastor…which ended up in both of them falling down the stairs], anddddd—
Turns out the Vees were hosting some fancy-schmancy party. Nothing Lucifer hasn’t seen before, but it’s the kind of ritzy shindig that would attract the most influential demons in hell…aside from Lucifer, Char-Char, the seven sins, and the goetia, of course. Usually, Lucifer wouldn’t be invited [Though, it’s not like he’d ever want to go…no, of course not], but…a little spider mentioned the TV guy apparently has a thing for ‘pretty redheads.’ They'd let Lucifer in as long as he had a hot redhead with him. Honestly, same, TV man, same……
All they needed to do was either find a pretty red head, or find a wig that would look good on Lucifer.
Alastor immediately opted out, until Lucifer thought it was a bright idea to call him a ‘coward.’
And then…all hell broke loose, as Alastor demanded to wear the dress.
Anyway, anyhow, Lucifer really does hate how he keeps getting into these kinds of situations. He lowkey wishes that he got to wear the dress, but like Lucifer just said, Alastor also wanted to wear the dress—and their duet nearly devolved into a fistfight until Maggie [Or was it Valerie?] interfered and forced them both to pick straws.
Lucifer is dead certain Alastor cheated in some way. Literally, fuck that guy. It’s no fair. Lucifer also wanted to look pretty, and—
Okay, alright, he’ll admit Alastor’s legs are pretty sexy.
“Why don’t you take a picture? It’ll last longer,” Alastor sarcastically murmurs, rolling his eyes.
Lucifer looks up at the deer demon, eyes narrowed as he flips Alastor off with both hands. “You fucking prick. I’d be far prettier than you, and everyone knows it. You’re lucky I let you win.”
“Mm-hm. Jealousy is quite an ugly look on you, your highness,” Alastor smugly retorts. His hair is…long. Well, it’s always been long, but since the radio deer is wearing a wig, his hair falls down past his waist. He’s dressed in a short, red dress with black trimmings, ending halfway between his hips and knees. Honestly, if Lucifer wasn’t a married man [And if Alastor wasn’t such a prick], he’d definitely try courting him. Or asking him to bone, if he’d be up for it. Though, despite Alastor’s many, many shortcomings, he seems to appreciate the classics in life. Probably, he’d enjoy being serenaded, given flowers, all of that frilly, cutesy stuff that went out of fashion around the Victorian era.
The only consolation Lucifer has is that Alastor is pretty…really, really beautiful, even, now that his creepy as fuck smile has been taken down a notch. He’d be too recognizable, otherwise, so Lucifer definitely took no small amount of glee from watching the light slowly leave from Alastor’s eyes, as he was forced to tone down his smile.
And so, here is Alastor—wearing a small, cute, demure smile…even though his eyes reflect nothing but bloody murder.
He’s also wearing a shimmery red veil, adorned with black gemstones and milky quartz. It’s really quite pretty as well, and also very necessary, considering…a red demon…a red demon with deer ears. That TV demon is thirsty, sure, but Lucifer doubts he’d be too much of an idiot to not recognize Alastor. Lucifer isn’t sure how the girls and Angel Dust managed to flatten Alastor’s ears, but judging by the slight wince crossing Alastor’s features as he brings a hand up to his head—
Lucifer imagines it must not have been all that pleasant.
“Aren’t you just the prettiest belle in the ball?” Lucifer chuckles, deciding to ignore Alastor’s taunts. Despite Alastor fucking cheating, Lucifer isn’t going to stoop to his level. Oh no, definitely not. He’s going to savor every single moment of this.
Not so discretely, Alastor whacks Lucifer in the shin.
Still worth it.
“Of course you’d say that, my dear.” Without prompt, Alastor wraps his arms around Lucifer’s shoulders, resting his chin over the shorter demon’s. And…Lucifer must say it’s quite nice, until he realizes Alastor isn’t letting go.
Oh, fuck, Alastor’s grip is really, really strong, and it’s with a sudden jolt of clarity that Lucifer realizes Alastor is trying to strangle him. Again.
Well played, radio deer, well played……
But eventually, Alastor lets go of Lucifer—making a show of wiping his gloved hands against the hem of his dress. The cloth shifts up slightly, blessing Lucifer with a glimpse of Alastor’s thighs—Wait, focus. He’s been zoning out a lot today, huh?
“—Words cannot describe how much I abhor these sorts of frivolous, pretentious affairs,” Alastor scathingly remarks as he heads over to the buffet table, piling large amounts of meat onto his plate…and ignoring all of the rest. Lucifer quickly reaches for his own plate, opting to only select a few of the more palatable-looking sweets.
“Aw, I thought ‘frivolous’ and ‘pretentious’ was your thing, Alastor.”
Eyes narrowed in contempt, Alastor doesn’t break eye contact from Lucifer even once as he jabs his fork into a slab of steak and consumes the entire thing in one gulp.
…Okay, Lucifer would be a complete hypocrite if he didn’t admit that was hot as fuck.
“Ahahaha, fuck you.”
Without missing a beat, Lucifer murmurs, “If this night goes well, then I sure wouldn’t be opposed to it.”
“What,” Alastor asks in a flat monotone, dropping his fork.
Lucifer blinks, brain slowly processing what he just said. “What.”
Immediately, Alastor tosses his plate behind his shoulder—which ends up careening directly at some random demon’s head. Lucifer is about ready to fight the guy, only for his eyes to lock upon the short-cut of Alastor’s dress…and, yep, same, but also, he’s a dead man.
Alastor is about to summon those weird shadow tentacle things to tear him in two, but Lucifer jumps in, grabbing onto Alastor by the waist and yanking him behind a window curtain.
“—Unhand me at once, you cretin!!”
“With pleasure,” Lucifer icily remarks, promptly letting go of Alastor. “I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but we’re here on a mission. We need to find that sad little TV man and have you seduce him into endorsing the hotel.”
Alastor narrows his eyes. “Who said anything about seducing Vox? I was told to just steal his heart!”
“That is what you’re supposed to do! Steal his heart!!”
“I AM going to steal his heart, so what is this about seducing him!?”
“Exactly what I just said, you hard-headed deer. You need to steal his heart to seduce him—”
Before Lucifer can even process anything, Alastor lunges at him—attempting to claw out his eyes. Lucifer pushes Alastor away, quickly brushing aside the curtain and sprinting towards the ballroom—Alastor not too far behind him.
Fuck, what even IS Alastor’s deal!? Lucifer was pretty sure the plan to ‘steal TV man’s heart’ had been obvious.
Wait…Alastor…it’s…it’s quiet……
No radio static, no sense of foreboding or the need to stab someone in the throat. And…most importantly of all, the scent of copper, of freshly spilled blood is now gone.
“—Haven’t seen you around, before. You new in town, sweetheart?”
“Not quite.” Oh…oh, that is…Alastor. Except, he’d pitched his voice up a tad. And under normal circumstances, Lucifer would laugh at Alastor. Mock him, belittle him, maybe flirt a little with him, but…actually, no, Lucifer can and will laugh at him. Smiling, Lucifer steps over to Alastor, enthusiastically clapping a hand over his back.
“So this is where you ran off to, Ala…Alaine……” Lucifer weakly says, coming up with a special secret agent codename for Alastor. Shit, they completely forgot about that part. But judging by the blank-eyed stare Alastor’s directing at him, Lucifer imagines he did a kickass job at coming up with such a fucking awesome name on the spot.
“Ah, it’s difficult to believe anyone could lose such a rare beauty like yours, Alaine,” Vox smoothly remarks as he gently holds Alastor’s hands in his. “But…you really do look familiar. It’s…odd, but I feel like we’ve met before.”
Alastor completely freezes on the spot, looking just like a deer caught in the headlights of a quickly approaching vehicle.
But he recomposes himself easily enough, and Lucifer can already see the aftermath…or rather, the bloodbath that will ensue. Alastor smiles sweetly at Vox, leaning just a bit close to the TV demon’s screen—lowly murmuring something that makes Vox chuckle. And much to Lucifer’s disbelief, Alastor allows Vox to hold onto his waist. It’s a ghost of a touch, really, barely even noticeable.
And to make matters worse, Alastor is honest to goodness giggling. He’s hiding his smiling face behind his gloved hand, scarlet eyes flickering to Lucifer, before darting back over to Vox.
Alastor reaches underneath Vox’s screen, tilting it upwards—
They’re so close…too close……
Vox holds onto Alastor gently, as if he were made of glass. And Alastor looks…completely at ease, as if they’d done this before. They’ve been whispering with each other the entire time, all the while occasionally throwing amused glances in Lucifer’s direction. But…he catches sight of something in Vox’s hand. A knife…a knife.
Manners be damned, Lucifer isn’t going to allow Alastor to be stabbed on his watch.
Alastor and Vox barely have any time to react as Lucifer attempts to intervene…only to trip over a tablecloth and fall on-top of Alastor…who in-turn, collapses directly onto Vox. But Lucifer could care less about that over-glorified toaster, when Alastor’s looking up at him—their faces so close they could very well share a kiss. Alastor’s eyes are wide, clearly surprised. And Lucifer knows it won’t be long until Alastor decides to shank him, but…Lucifer supposes he can live with that.
He reaches for Alastor’s face, brushing aside his bangs. Alastor’s veil is still fashioned onto his hair, giving him the impression of an angel.
It’s perfect. Lucifer can’t recall the last time he’s been on such a romantic date.
…The sound of radio static breaks the illusion.
Oh...right, the mission. Ahhhh shit, and here Lucifer thought they were actually having a moment. It really sucks too, how this plan has completely fallen apart. Lucifer is dead certain this entire escapade would’ve been a success if he got to wear the dress and not Alastor. Just because he’s the king of hell doesn’t mean he can’t look pretty too…
“Do you mind?” Alastor hisses through grit teeth.
Lucifer nods his head, unable to speak as he hastily gets off of Alastor. The TV demon has remained noticeably silent this entire time, though Lucifer can’t blame him. Not a pretty bad position to find himself in, since Alastor really is quite the catch in his red dress.
Man, Lucifer is learning so much about himself today. More than he ever expected, really.
But then, his world pretty much shatters as Alastor decides to go back to Vox, coyly smiling at him, fingers brushing against the lapels of his suit jacket, and…honest to goodness hip checking him.
What.
That was Lucifer's thing with Alastor. The fucking audacity of this TV bitch.
It's all a complete blur, really. A bit of a mess. Lucifer done fucked up, but one thing led to another and...here he is. In a slapfight with a man for a flatscreen TV for a head. Lucifer is unfortunately still bitchless, but so is Vox. Such is life, he supposes.
"I saw him first!!!!" Vox petulantly whines. Oh...so he did know that was Alastor in the sexy red dress.
"Yeah...but I got to hold his hand before you, so HAH!"
Lucifer was here for something important, but...ehh, couldn't have been that important if he can't remember.
Not too far away is Alastor, happily drinking champagne as he watches the ensuing fight unfold. This is the last time he engages in this frivolous television technology.
"They're really going at it, huh?"
Alastor briefly tears his eyes away from Lucifer and Vox's dick measuring competition, only to find Velvette standing right by his side--Idly recording the inane debacle on her phone.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, my dear."
Velvette smiles, though in a rather self-deprecating manner. "These parties suck. I should know, so thanks for making it somewhat bearable for once. If my estimates are correct, those two idiots will completely demolish the party venue within the next five minutes."
"An educated assessment, but far too generous. I give them two minutes at most."
"Ya' know what, you're right! I like your style, so what's you say we ditch these two morons?" Velvette offers, not looking up from her phone even once.
Alastor nods. "That sounds like a lovely proposal, my dear, but...I regret to say I'll never be invited to such a...unique event, ever again."
"Yeah right," Velvette retorts, vaguely amused. "You're smiling; it's obvious you hate this dump as much as I do. Hm, I can respect that."
Both Alastor and Velvette leave, not once looking back as the party venue burns to the ground.
All according to Alastor's plan.
There's no way in hell Vox would ever want to align with the hotel after this.