HE WAS EXHAUSTED. IT HAD BEEN ANOTHER LONG DAY OF his radio show, and giving aid to Charlie when she so required it. One such situation was getting a few rambunctious sinners off the hotel premises— quite the meal if he may be so bold as to say. He couldn’t wait to relax with a small glass of whiskey, have his jazz lead him into relaxation, and all the while having conversations with his king.
IT SOUNDED LIKE AN EXCELLENT IDEA, ONE THAT HAD BEEN in practice for some time now. In fact, Alastor started to look forward to the end of the day more and more— his favorite part of the day one could say.
Careful, young fawn, some might say you have gone soft.
HE ENTERED THEIR SHARED ROOM WHILE CLAWED HANDS UNBUTTONED HIS coat. He walked near the bedside to toss the shedded red coat onto the lushes sheets before he found his way to the small table of drinks. He uncapped a bottle of whiskey, and as he did so, he heard footsteps come from behind him. His ears flicked, and he started to pour himself a glass.
“Alastor, can you — well, I know it’s been a little more than a month, so do you think you need to — ah, fuck.”
Lucifer’s only ever instigated this when he feared Alastor had waited too long. It’s Al’s job to request this when it’s needed, this entire arrangement a way for Alastor to let himself go; to give in to the shadows for a while — to lose control on his own terms, therefore maintaining control.
—but today? Right now? Lucifer’s very skin itches with the need to hurt — and he knows, of course he knows, how Alastor feels about the King doing any kind of harm to himself. So maybe…maybe their arrangement can benefit them both today, so long as it’s something Alastor needs. “—Al, I — just. Tell me. It’s been a while, so…does the darkness feel like ripping me apart today?”
LUCIFER’S VOICE SEEMED SMALL, ANXIOUS MIGHT BE THE BETTER WORD. Alastor felt his chest tightened at the thought. Still, he placed the bottle down with ease, and then took his glass in one hand. He turned to face @ofhell with an arched brow. His words floated in his ear for some time as he thought it over.
THEIR SESSIONS. IT WAS SOMETHING HE WASN'T PROUD OF, that’s a first, little fawn BUT it was a way to subside that craving deep within him. However, it had been some time, hadn’t it? Yet, he didn’t feel the need to do it. How interesting. That was a first, and really the thought of doing it unprompted made his ears fold back. Why would Lucifer bring it up then? He knew how much Alastor detested them…
CRIMSON EYES STUDIED THE KING. HE HADN’T SAID A SINGLE word since he had spoken. Alastor knew that most would be incinerated for such a disrespect of the king’s wishes, but oh how he knew Lucifer wouldn’t do such a thing to him. So, he stayed silent a few minutes longer to gauge an idea of why this came out of the blue. There could be two reasons, and Alastor was sure he wasn't going to like it.
A STATIC HUM WAS HEARD ONLY AS HE TIPPED HIS head back to let the liquor in glass burn down his throat. Once he was finished, he turned around again to fill the glass, “ Lucifer, ” finally, his voice broke through the silence. It was a voice, however, of a warm summer night in New Orleans— sweet, rich, intoxicating, and most of all… real. He turned once again towards Lucifer, the empty glass now full again. He moved quietly, steadily, his arm outstretched with the offered drink, “ I’m not sure that’s a great idea. ”