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Alastor loved crafting.
Not because his drawings could attract a crowd, but because of how much they reminded him of his youth. Paper, mugs, napkins, he would draw on anything he could and show his mother. She loved each and every work of art, from the silliest doodle of the local flora to the puns he made about all the animals. Even the alligator one, which no doubt startled her, she accepted it gratefully.
“Merci, mon fils. C’est charmant.” She said after kissing his forehead then giving him a hug.
It became more important to him after she passed, when he discovered boxes filled with every single creation he gave her, no dust to be seen, with wear and tear on the containers, especially where the boxes opened. They brought him great comfort when he found them. He thought for sure she would have gotten rid of some of them to make room for her own necessities. The fact it took her dying to realize how foolish his thoughts were made him weap more than he’d dare to acknowledge.
His love for crafting followed him to Hell. Thankfully he still had hands to draw with. The thought of coming down with tentacles or branches in place of hands never sat well with him. Sure, he had his tendrils, but he was content not having to rely on them to hold his pencils. He’d tried it once, and he couldn’t even tell his own stick figure from the computer chair Vox had tied him up in just last year.
Oh, that was a fun time. Baiting Vox to do exactly what he wanted him to was never difficult for Alastor. The humiliation and invasion of his space were all expected, but somehow Vox managed to make it worse. Alastor still wasn’t sure whether or not to be grateful he kept the secret of his tail to himself. This personal humiliation rewarded Alastor with a few perks. Vox’s descent into madness and eventual downfall, Alastor’s freedom from Rosie, and somehow best of all, love from a certain devil.
It was strange, but honestly, Alastor was the only person in Hell who truly understood what the king went through, and vice versa. They jabbed each other about their shared experiences at first, but then it evolved. Lucifer would check on Alastor’s then-healing chest wound, Alastor would re-bandage the marks on the king’s limbs and torso. This graduated into the two checking on each other at night. Lucifer entered the radio tower when Alastor couldn’t fall asleep, and Alastor went into the apple tower whenever Lucifer had nightmares.
Who would have thought shared misery could make two beings long for each other?
It happened slowly. Outside of tending to their injuries, neither man got too close to the other. Personal space had been robbed from Alastor, and Lucifer was confined and sapped of his grace like a giant battery. Both men were tense about anyone approaching them, even Charlie. But soon, “just checking in” turned into genuine concern for the other’s wellbeing. This led them to avoid talking about their captures for three months before just letting it all out in a pissing match.
Because of course they would. Why wouldn’t Alastor and Lucifer compete on who had it worse and was less affected by the whole ordeal?
It all came to a head after about ten minutes of back and forth. Lucifer began stuttering mid-rant, his voice lowering in volume until he was just gasping and hyperventilating. So much so that he would have fallen to the floor if Alastor hadn’t caught him. It was the first moment in Hell where he didn’t find someone’s panic entertaining. Alastor held the gasping king in his arms, on the floor, tense and unsure what the right course of action was, with the only relief coming from the fact they were in Alastor’s room when it happened.
When the gasping stopped, Lucifer’s breathing recovered a little. It was far from normal, light and shaky, but he was able to draw in longer breaths. If he wasn’t shaking from the ordeal, Alastor probably would have backed away from him and complained.
“Sorry…” Lucifer had said, his voice still quiet.
Alastor stared at him, his ears drooping and his eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t be,” he found himself saying.
From there, no more words were exchanged. Alastor simply scooped Lucifer up and brought him to his bed. They stayed there for the rest of the night, curled towards the other and bodies pressed close. For whatever reason, the two of them found respite that night, and they continued coming together seeking it.
From there, simply being near each other just wasn’t enough.
“Wow, that looks great, Alastor!”
The deer tensed up at the sound of Charlie’s voice, and he jerked to face her. She had come in with Vaggi. They were dressed up in formal gowns, Charlie’s long and red, while Vaggi’s was knee-length and black. Both dresses sparkled.
Vaggi stared at them with a knowing smirk while Charlie moved towards Alastor’s desk, where his most recent craft project sat finished and ready to wrap. “Dad’s gonna love it!” She said.
Alastor would certainly hope so. After all, it was her idea. Alastor was no father, and the one he had was abysmal on his best day. But he knew of both Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, as well as how significant others would do something nice for the parent they were dating. Alastor had been nervous at the prospect, but he wanted to do something nice for his little king. Even if he never asked him to.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” She asked him, giving him one of her puppy-dog smiles.
The one that was increasingly getting hard to say no to.
Alastor’s smile softened. “I appreciate the offer, My Dear. But I don’t want your time with your father to be snatched away. You’ll have much more fun without me there,” he said as he wrapped the project in layers of paper.
Vaggi snorted. “That’s not an actual answer, and you know it. If you want to join us, then you should join us. We’re the ones who offered, and Lucifer would be thrilled,” she said, placing a hand on her hip.
Alastor placed the gift in a pink and gold bag and topped it with gold tissue paper, doing his best to not react. Lucifer had mentioned to them how sometimes, Alastor’s responses simply covered up what the actual answer to a request or question was. Vaggi had slowly been learning to keep her ears open for it, and Charlie was starting to as well. And for as much as it bothered him, there was a small sense of pride whenever they called him out on it.
At least they learned the lesson in a safe space.
Alastor picked up the bag and stood. “Today isn’t about what I want. It’s what Lucifer wants. Now come along! I need to give this to him before you head out,” he said walking past the two of them. The women shared a smile and shook their heads with a huffed chuckle, then followed Alastor out.
They met in the lounge near the elevator. The floor was reserved for staff and close friends, so they had the leisure of personal space before heading down to the lobby. Lucifer stood by the couches, humming a tune and holding a black gift bag with red tissue paper.
The Radio Demon paused with a hum, his eyes narrowing at the bag. He looked back at the girls, who both looked away in opposite directions, hands behind their backs, and doing their best “I didn’t see anything” face while trying not to smile.
He wasn’t sure whether to feel angry or proud that they were trying to surprise him. Whether or not that would work was up in the air.
“I sincerely hope that Charlie gave you that,” Alastor said playfully, striding towards Lucifer.
The king jumped at the sinner’s voice, but returned the smirk when they locked eyes with each other. “And if it’s not?” Lucifer asked, placing a hand on his hip and raising an eyebrow.
“Then I’d need to remind you who today is supposed to be about,” he said before leaning down. He placed a hand on Lucifer’s cheek and gave him a chaste kiss. Then he stood up and passed his bag. “Happy Father’s Day, Lu,” he said, his cheeks dusting pink and his smile soft.
Lucifer took the bag and put the black one in Alastor’s hand. “Thank you. And you too,” Lucifer said coyly.
“Start talking like Angel, and I’m taking the present back,” Alastor said, grimacing slightly.
“Wasn’t meant to sound like him.”
The two took a seat and dug through their bags. Lucifer went first, pulling out the project and unwrapping the paper. It was a new mug, bright pink, with a drawn pond in the center with several ducklings. Scrawled in black, the cup read: “I’m ducky to have you,” with a heart placed at the end. A detail that Alastor couldn’t truthfully say was Charlie’s idea.
Alastor watched as Lucifer’s lip quivered, a smile forming as he fought back tears. So, like a good boyfriend, Alastor pushed him to where he couldn’t.
“Charlie helped me with it,” he said , his gaze falling to the coffee table. “Our old mugs seem ill-fitted now…unless we’re mad at each other. But I’ve seen you try to hide the design on yours many times. So, I thought you should have one that makes you smile. One you’d want to use and be seen with,” Alastor said, his blush darkening as he spoke. He looked back at Lucifer through the corner of his eye, watching his angel sniffle and allow his tears to fall.
His smile grew, letting out a breathless laugh or sob or both before hugging it to his chest. “Oh Alastor…thank you so much,” Lucifer said, doing his best to not lose his voice and giving Alastor one of the biggest smiles since they met.
It had no right to make him melt at the sight of him, but when it came to Lucifer, a lot of things that had no right to affect Alastor now did.
“You like it?” Alastor found himself asking before he could think better on it. How hopeful and happy he sounded, how proud he felt, the fear he had that Lucifer would have a problem with his drawing skills.
“I love it,” Lucifer said before kissing him. “Thank you.”
They stayed close, briefly forgetting that the girls were there and just enjoying being near the other. This ended when Lucifer’s eyes wandered to Charlie and his golden blood flushed his face. He leaned back and cleared his throat.
“Well, don’t leave me in suspense here,” he tried to say, a little breathless and starting to visibly sweat. “Open your gift!”
Alastor hummed, briefly debating whether or not it should wait, but his angel truly did look tense just waiting for Alastor to open the gift. It was a beautiful sight, as he always was, and it was Father’s Day.
“Very well,” Alastor said with a shrug, beginning to dig into the bag, taking out something that was wrapped in layers of paper. “Even though it’s supposed to be your day, I’ll allow it this one time,” he said, picking up the object before he looked at it.
And when Alastor looked at it, he was rendered speechless. His eyes widened, his ears perked upright, and his entire face heated up.
“Charlie helped me with it,” Lucifer said, still smiling.
It was a coffee mug. Red with a black and gold handle. The rims were black, and in gold lettering, also outlined black, it read: “You’re so deer to me.” In the center were a set of antlers, branched out but curved in a way that a heart was formed between them.
The design alone had Alastor shaking, inwardly cursing the girls for coming with something so clever, and berating himself to not lose himself any further. Because the cup wasn’t the only thing there. In the mug itself was a card, which Alastor plucked out. He did his best to not seem phased, but he couldn’t tell if he had managed.
By all the rainbows, he knew that the card was of Charlie’s making. It read: “To Alastor” on it, which told Alastor enough of what was going on that he thought he knew what was coming. A sweet drawing with Charlie wishing him a Happy Father’s Day, and then insisting that he come with them. Which, at this point, Alastor already felt like he should.
And somehow, Alastor managed to be right and wrong at the same time.
There was an adorable drawing. One that had her, Vaggi and Lucifer hugging him, with hearts drawn around them, with the image labeled: my family. But the message she wrote.
He couldn’t describe how it was possible for something to shatter and warm his heart at the same time.
“Al,
You’ve done so much in the short amount of time since we met, but out of everything, nothing means as much as seeing how happy you’ve made my dad. I can’t rightly put it into words, but here goes.
I’ve stopped thinking of you as a friend. Instead, I’ve started seeing you as what you said you were the day you and dad met. I know you were messing with him back then, but to me, you are another dad, and I wouldn’t change that. So, I’d like to start calling you that from now on. I hope that’s okay with you.
Happy Father’s Day, Papa!
Love,
Charlie”
Alastor felt tears pool over his eyes and down his cheeks. He bit his lip, his voice lumped in his throat. He looked over at Charlie, whose hands were folded together over her chest, seeming happy but also a little nervous.
Alastor sniffled a little, his breath hitching before he looked between the both of them. “You little devils, get over here!” He said.
The family shared a hug, and took all the time they needed to calm down from the high emotions. Alastor quickly readied himself and left to go to dinner. He and Lucifer held each other close, and Charlie wasted no time in not calling Alastor by name anymore.