Let's Make a Deal

Things Have to Change

   "What am I supposed to wear?"

   After their little cuddle on the couch session, where Lucifer had actually dozed off on him and Alaster had let him, the rest of the day had actually gone rather pleasantly. Lucifer had decided to stay away from the Hotel, not wanting to deal with the fallout of what happened at the bar and Alastor had seemed to think it was better to do the same considering he hadn't left yet. Which was something that Lucifer had noticed very significantly. Instead of worrying about it too much though, he let himself worry about something else.

   That meeting with the damn Sins.

   He hears Alastor make his way over toward where Lucifer was eyeing his wardrobe in dissatisfaction. He leans around him to peer at the clothes lined up, a soft hum falling from him with the overlaying sound of static. Reaching in finally he pulled out a golden button down printed with apples and a pair of white slacks. "This would look good." He states, hanging the clothes on the handle of the wardrobe and stepping back. "Remember that during the meeting, that you are the strongest person in that room. If you let them take control of it then you lose the game."

   "You say that like it's so easy." He sighed, shaking his head at the clothes that Alastor picked out, the gold color of it and the soft apples. It felt a bit too on the nose, the reason he never wore that shirt in the first place even if he liked the design of it.

   "Because it is." Turning a bit the Radio Demon cast his gaze down at Lucifer, the smile widening more. "Smile, Sire, remember you're never fully dressed without one. It's a very valuable tool. It inspires your friends, keeps your enemies guessing, and ensures that no matter what comes your way, you're the one in control."

   A single blink, a very baffled look and Lucifer inclined his head slightly at Alastor. "Is that why you're always smiling? Because you think it means people can't read what's going on with you?"

   "Perhaps. Do guess though, I love the theories." 

    "Hm. You know, Alastor, everyone wears a mask in different forms. But a mask is still a mask, you can cover whatever you want and the cracks start to form no matter what it's made from." Lucifer turned back to look at the gold shirt. "A smile can hide many things, as can surrounding yourself with phantoms of memories. An image projected."

   Ducks. Apples. Carnival themes. Smiles. Power.

    Turning away from the wardrobe he started for the door of the bedroom, glancing over his shoulder toward the demon. "Are you hungry?"

   Lucifer does remember Alastor telling him that cooking had been something incredibly important to him and his mother. The dishes that she used to make were some of his favorite foods that he still enjoyed even down in Hell even with his more unique palate. The kitchen that the Palace had was incredibly large and filled with far more modern equipment than Alastor apparently was comfortable with. He had glared at the coffee pod machine long enough that Lucifer had wondered if he should hide it in the closet just so it wasn't in danger.

   Despite not frequenting the Palace itself often, let alone eating in it, the Staff that he kept around did have the place very well stocked. While they searched around to find where things were, Alastor seemed quite pleased by the supplies that he had to work with. The other had also apparently decided that if he was eating here, he was cooking and Lucifer was the one helping. Jambalaya was what was picked from the dishes he was thinking of making, which Lucifer was sure was his absolute favorite when it came to normal foods.

   They had a wide variety of meats and seafoods to pick from for it, and Alastor eventually settled on chicken and sausage. He left Lucifer with the job of dicing it up and got to work preparing the rest of the ingredients to cook it. Watching him work in the kitchen was certainly something else. He had gotten so used to seeing Alastor in such a different light that watching him like this, in such a comfortable element, a rather domestic one at that too–it was incredible. It made his throat run dry and something warm bloom in his chest.