Whispered Words and Gentle Caresses

The melodic sounds of Lucifer's favorite cursed record delicately fill every crevice in his room, the Phonograph set to a volume loud enough for others to understand not to bother him, yet quiet enough where he can still hear his thoughts. 

Lucifer sits in his armchair sipping on a glass of aged red wine and stares at the crackling fire in front of him, the only source of light in the room. His legs are crossed, one over the other, and the fingers of his free hand are tapping the armrest in time with the music. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the back of the chair just as 3 knocks sound from behind him. 

"Come in," he says, already knowing who it is. The door creaks open, and he makes a mental note to get it fixed before the sound becomes obnoxious. MC steps into the room, their muffled footsteps telling Lucifer that they're in their pajamas. 

"I'm sorry for bothering you," they begin as they shuffle over to him. He opens his eyes as he hears them drawing nearer. "I just heard music coming from here, so I thought I could listen with you. If that's okay." Their comforting scent reaches his nose, causing his head to go a bit fuzzy. Or is that the wine? He's most likely almost had the whole bottle by now. Noticing they haven't moved, he motions his hand for them to sit in the armchair across from him. 

They sit in the chair and cross their legs crisscross style. In the middle of them sits a glass chess table given to Lucifer by Barbatos for his birthday centuries ago. Since rarely anyone is allowed in his room, the gift has become merely decoration rather than an actual game set. He doesn't mind, though; he'd much rather admire its beauty than play a game with someone else and accidentally ruin it. 

He blinks and pulls himself out of his thoughts. MC is leaning against the back of the chair looking up at the ceiling with a soft, content smile. The light from the fireplace casts a warm orange hue on their face, and Lucifer can't help but engrave every piece into his mind.

He never thought the day would come when a mere human would warm up to a demon enough to leave themselves vulnerable. If it isn't for the way they're constantly on guard at RAD, he would have most definitely had a talk with them about their absolute trust in demons. But he shouldn't have to worry as long as they're only like this with him and his brothers. Well, maybe with Mammon he should be a bit cautious.

The piece steadily fades out, causing a brief silence to fill the room, save for the crackling of the fire and the hushed ticking of the clock placed perfectly next to the Phonograph on the fireplace mantel. "I didn't know you were a fan of classical music," he speaks up, and MC looks at him, that mind-numbing smile still on their face. A smile so serene, he could look at it for the rest of eternity.

"Not to the extent that you are, but I find it calming," they reply, and the next piece fills the room.

"With the way you are always around my brothers, I wasn't sure you knew what the word 'calm' meant." He smirks and takes a sip out of his wine, finishing the glass. MC laughs, and for a moment, time stops. His skin, mainly his cheeks, heat up, as if the fire reached out and is holding them in its grasp. Was what he said really that funny?

He doesn't even realize MC is talking at first, too enraptured by their face that holds so much innocence it's enough to rival that of an Angel. "Ha. Ha. Very funny, Lucifer," they joke. "I'll have you know that I do enjoy some peace and quiet occasionally."

"Then I suppose you won't mind keeping me company in my study while I do paperwork once in a while?" The words are out before he registers them, but seeing the way a slight blush creeps onto MC's face that they try desperately to hide, he doesn't regret it. Instead, he basks in the fact that he was the one to make them a flustered mess.

"I mean, yeah, that sounds nice, I'm okay with that," they stutter, looking at the chessboard as if it's the most interesting thing in the Devildom. Lucifer places his empty glass on the floor next to the quarter-full wine bottle. 

"No need to stare at my chessboard so hard. The pieces won't run away." MC looks up at Lucifer, squinting in mock annoyance. The blush is gone from their cheeks. A pity.

"You're insufferable." There they go with that damn smile again. It's almost as intoxicating as his drink. 

A series of pings sound from both their pockets and they look down, taking out their DDDs. The brothers are texting in the group chat.

Satan: I saw MC going into Lucifer's room earlier, and they haven't come out since.

Belphegor: We should get them out of there before it's too late. Being in his presence too long will damage their brain.

What was once a soft smile adorning Lucifer's features fades to a frown as he reads the text messages between his brothers. He knows Satan and Belphegor aren't too fond of him, but is that really what they think? Unnoticed by him, MC furrows their brows at his change in demeanor and looks back down at their DDD, typing furiously.

Mammon: MY human's in there?! 

MC: I'm having more fun with him right now than I'll ever have with the both of you combined, you pricks.

Leviathan: LMAOO BURNED.

Lucifer wants to be grateful for MC's willingness to stand up for him, but he can't stop rereading the first two texts. MC huffs and drops their DDD next to them. It falls in between the cushion and the chair, but they make no effort to fish it out. 

Lucifer quickly gets rid of his frown and slides his DDD into his pocket. He suddenly regrets his decision to not finish the wine. He clears his throat and repositions himself in the armchair trying to act nonchalant, but to no avail. "How about a game of chess? I promise I won't beat you too badly." He stares at MC and smirks, but it's not the same as earlier. This smirk has an underlying sadness; sadness that no one has ever noticed before, besides Lord Diavolo and Barbatos. Those who are blind would continue to go on about their day while Lucifer battles himself in his head as he tries to keep his composure. He mustn't show weakness, after all.

But MC sees the struggle, as clear as day, and it breaks their heart.

"You don't have to act like that with me, you know," they say gently. The record player has stopped playing music. Lucifer's fingers twitch and he wants to get up to flip the record, but he keeps himself planted in his chair.

"I don't quite understand what you mean, MC." His tongue suddenly feels dry. MC unfurls their legs and plants them on the ground. They place their hands on their knees and look into Lucifer's eyes, reading him oh so perfectly, as if he's an open book on display.

"I get that you need to be strong in front of everyone, but I also realize how draining that can be. I can see the bags under your eyes getting bigger as the days pass, Lucifer. And I know that despite what you say, despite the way you brush off their remarks all the time, it hurts you to hear and to read those things being said about you."

Lucifer opens his mouth to refute it but closes it. A mere human, leaving him of all demons at a loss for words. 

They continue. "I just want you to know that when we're alone how we are now, you don't have to put up a front like you always do. You don't have to lie to yourself that you're fine because it's okay to not be okay."

"That's quite contradictory is it not?" They roll their eyes but he knows it isn't serious. They fall into silence, giving him time to think. His pride prevents him from being anything but perfect. He must be a model student, he must keep his brothers in check, he must keep the exchange program running smoothly, and he must make sure nobody is disrespecting or bringing shame to Lord Diavolo. 

But when is it ever 'he must take care of himself first'? Lord Diavolo and Barbatos have told Lucifer to stop overworking himself numerous times before, yet he never sees his workload lessen. So, he continues to sit at his desk, signing paper after paper until night turns to morning, or until MC drops by to drop off a coffee and snack and ends up begging him to take a break after seeing his exhaustion.

"From here out, I'm going to ignore you." 

Lucifer blinks. "Excuse me?" 

"You heard me. Every time you try to put on that dumb front when we're alone together, I'm going to ignore you." They cross their arms and turn towards the fire pouting. "Starting now."

Lucifer stares in shock. "MC."

Silence.

He sighs dramatically and admits quietly, "It does get hard, yes. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't deserve it." MC whips their head to look at him. He's staring at the fire. 

"What do you mean?" 

"The punishments, the harsh words, the pressure. I can see how hard it must be on my brothers, yet, do I stop? Do I ask them how they're doing? I do not. I sit in my study and work myself to utter exhaustion so long as I'm not out tending to Lord Diavolo's needs." MC stares at him in shock and slowly uncrosses their arms. Lucifer looks down at his lap and picks invisible dust off his pants. He begins to feel uncomfortably aware of the heat that's been pouring out of the fireplace for the last hour, and he blames this sudden need to reveal his innermost thoughts on the wine. 

"Mammon failed his last test, so I did what I always do and hung him upside down. You would think that after centuries of using that punishment with no positive outcome, I would stop. When he overspends, I freeze his credit card." He rests his chin on his hand. "I locked Belphegor in the attic to protect him from Lord Diavolo because I didn't want to lose another member of my family, and lied to my brothers that he was in the human realm. And Satan. I created him because of my anger, my pure hatred for myself, hatred for the situation we were in. I gave him life only for him to become miserable; only for him to feel alienated from his family, to not even feel as though he's his own demon."

'I thought I've been doing what's best for them. I thought I'd been showing that I care." He laughs bitterly. "Belphie and Satan hate me and Mammon fears me. It seems as though I was wrong."

"That's not true, and you know it." MC's sudden, yet hushed, aggression in their voice throws Lucifer off guard.

"I'm sorry?"

They lick their lips, an action not unnoticed by Lucifer, and speak tenderly. "Yes, Mammon has his moments where he's scared to show you his grades, where he's done something wrong and is nervous to tell you about it, but that doesn't mean he's scared of you. Yes, Belphie and Satan frequently tag team you and share harsh words. But they all love and respect you just as much as your other brothers do, whether they admit it or not. They may not say it outright, but they show it, even if only a little at a time." 

'And if I'm going to be honest here, your punishments are a bit over the top." He scoffs and looks away like a child being scolded. They get up and walk to the record player. As they flip over the record they suggest, "But that's something we can work on, yeah?"

They walk towards the couch and sit down. "Now come here." He turns his head and stares blankly at MC, so they pat the spot next to them. He sighs dramatically and gets up. He sits down next to MC and they immediately scoot closer and throw their legs over his. He places his hands on their thighs, fighting the urge to run them up and down their warmth. They wrap their arms around his waist and he flinches in surprise.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm comforting you, duh."

"I don't need to be comforted," he mutters. They both are aware that's a lie.

"Shhh." MC slides an arm up his chest, up his neck, and caresses his cheek with their hand, rubbing their thumb in soothing circles. Lucifer's head is spinning and he swears he can still feel their hands running up his body. Nearly whispering, they say, "Just let me do this." He stares into their shining irises, seeing nothing but absolute admiration. Seeing nothing but an endless pool of stars. He leans into their hand, closing his eyes and enjoying this moment that he never wants to end. He must be incredibly touch starved if this small interaction already has his heart nearly bursting and head swimming with affection. 

They rest their head against his shoulder and look up at him as they begin to trace his features with their thumb. He fights back a purr threatening to come out. In a lowered voice, they mention, "I can see how much you care about your brothers, you know. While you may not outwardly show it like Asmo, I can see it through the little things. Giving Beel money so he could go to the thumb wrestling competition, checking to make sure Levi gets enough sleep, trusting Mammon with important tasks such as watching me when I first came here." They pause for a moment but continue in the same, soft tone. "Leaving a signed copy of Satan's favorite book on his bed."

Lucifer opens his eyes and frowns at MC. "How do you know about that?"

"I know everything, my dear." They smirk playfully and take their hand off his cheek to rest on his chest. My dear. Lucifer's breath catches in his throat at the sudden pet name. He knew it wasn't a mistake, for he could feel the pure fondness woven into their tone of voice. A fondness that tells him they see him and still want to stay despite all his flaws. 

Do they really know everything? Do they know how thoughts of them keep Lucifer up at night while he tries to sleep? How since the moment MC started to care for the brothers as if they were family of their own, he felt himself fall deeply, tremendously in love with them? How he calls them into his office to ask about their experience as a RAD Exchange Student more often than he needs to, just because he wants an excuse to be with them? How he started to notice his gaze focusing on them for much longer while they were in his presence?

A wave of emotion washes over him, too strong to retract and bury deep within, and without a second thought, he places his hand on the back of their head.

"Do you truly?" And, as the fire snaps and sizzles and the orchestra crescendos, Lucifer slowly pulls a surprised MC towards him and presses their lips together.