LOVE OR SEX || Radioapple

Chapter 04

Lucifer, leaning against the cool leather seat of the car, exhaled deeply, the alcohol buzzing through his veins. His usual sharp, detached exterior had softened slightly under the influence of the drinks he'd had with the other mafia boss earlier that night. He still held onto his cruel smirk, though now there was a hint of vulnerability, masked behind the haze of intoxication.

Alastor, ever the silent sentinel, drove with his usual calmness, his stoic demeanor contrasting sharply with Lucifer's drunken state. The city lights flickered past them as they made their way back to Lucifer's apartment. The tension in the car was palpable, but Alastor remained focused, his hands steady on the wheel.

Lucifer broke the silence, his voice slurred but still carrying that familiar mocking tone. "You know, Alastor... You're a strange one."

Alastor didn't respond, his eyes remaining fixed on the road ahead.

Lucifer let out a low chuckle, leaning his head back against the seat. "You don't want anything from me, do you? No emotional entanglements, no messy... complications." His words were thick with the irony he found in his own assumptions. "I thought maybe we could have something... something uncomplicated. You're safe, after all."

Alastor's grip on the wheel tightened slightly, but he didn't speak. His silence was answer enough for Lucifer. A refusal without words.

Lucifer rolled his eyes, scoffing. "No fun, are you? What's the point of having a bodyguard if he won't even indulge his boss every now and then?" He let out another laugh, though it was hollow, tinged with bitterness.

Lucifer had always believed that Alastor's impotence made him safe—safe from the messiness of emotions, safe from the vulnerabilities that came with sex. But now, as they sat in silence, Lucifer found himself unsettled by Alastor's resistance. It wasn't rejection in the typical sense. Alastor simply... didn't play along. He wasn't drawn in by Lucifer's games, and that gnawed at him.

After a long pause, Lucifer shifted in his seat, his drunken gaze wandering over to Alastor. "Tell me something, Alastor. Two secrets."

Alastor's brow furrowed, though his expression remained as composed as ever. "Secrets, boss?"

Lucifer waved his hand lazily, almost as if dismissing the seriousness of the request. "Yeah, secrets. C'mon. You're always so damn quiet. Let's hear something real for once."

Alastor hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I think you're... very attractive."

Lucifer's smirk returned, a wave of satisfaction washing over him. Even in his drunken state, his ego fed off the admission. "Of course you do," he said, his voice dripping with self-assurance. "Everyone does. You're not exactly subtle about it, Alastor."

Alastor remained silent, his eyes still focused on the road.

Lucifer, pleased with himself, leaned closer. "And the second secret?"

Alastor's lips pressed into a thin line before he responded, his voice calm and measured. "I don't have another secret, boss."

Lucifer's laugh erupted, loud and genuine, filling the car. He leaned back, running a hand through his disheveled hair, thoroughly amused. "You're a terrible liar, Alastor."

The weight of his words hung between them, heavy and unspoken. Lucifer's laughter faded, and for a brief moment, his eyes betrayed something deeper. He was drunk, emotionally unavailable, but there was a sliver of recognition there—something fragile, even if he wouldn't admit it.

As the car pulled up to Lucifer's apartment, the night stretched on, thick with tension. Despite the playful banter, there was an unspoken understanding that neither could articulate. Lucifer had always assumed that Alastor, with his calm demeanor and physical impotence, would be immune to the emotional chaos that he wielded like a weapon. But now, sitting there, with Alastor's quiet refusal still fresh in his mind, Lucifer couldn't shake the feeling that he had miscalculated.