Pardon The Way That I Stare

Rye

Lucifer watched Husk pour a glass of rye whiskey, the amber liquid shimmering as it filled the glass. Husk slid it across the bar with a knowing look.

"Rye," Husk said, his voice low but certain. "It's Alastor's favorite."

Lucifer nodded, picking up the glass and swirling it thoughtfully. "Thanks, Husk," he said with a small smile, before making his way into the kitchen.

As he stepped into the warm space, the spicy aroma of jambalaya hit him immediately, making his stomach rumble in anticipation. Alastor was standing at the stove, completely absorbed in stirring the pot, his usual confident posture relaxed and content as he hummed a little jazz tune under his breath.

Lucifer approached quietly, setting the glass of rye down on the counter beside the stove. Without a word, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Alastor's waist, pulling him close in a gentle hug from behind. Alastor stiffened for just a second in surprise, but quickly melted into the embrace, his humming faltering as a soft blush spread across his cheeks.

Lucifer leaned in, pressing a kiss to Alastor's cheek. "You earned a drink," he murmured with a playful smile, his voice soft in Alastor's ear. "This smells incredible."

Alastor's blush deepened as he turned his head slightly to catch Lucifer's eye, his usual confident smirk faltering just a bit. "Why, thank you, dear," he replied, the hint of shyness unusual for him, but not unwelcome. His eyes flicked to the glass of rye beside him, and he chuckled. "You certainly know how to spoil me."

Lucifer chuckled, still holding him close. "You deserve it," he said, resting his chin on Alastor's shoulder for a moment, watching the steam rise from the pot. "And I'm looking forward to eating whatever magic you're cooking up."

Alastor relaxed into the embrace, his usual bravado slipping as he basked in the warmth of Lucifer's affection. "Well, I do aim to please," he said with a smile, but there was a softness in his voice that hinted at something more—something deeper.

Lucifer squeezed him gently, planting another soft kiss on Alastor's cheek before letting go. "You always do," Lucifer whispered, before stepping back to let Alastor continue with his cooking, the moment lingering between them as the jambalaya simmered on the stove.

Alastor picked up the glass of rye, giving it a small swirl before taking a sip, his gaze lingering on Lucifer with a quiet fondness that he didn't bother to hide. "I hope you're hungry," he said, his tone lighter now, though his cheeks were still faintly pink.

"Starving," Lucifer replied, a grin spreading across his face. "For the food, and maybe... a little more than that."

Alastor chuckled, shaking his head as he returned his attention to the pot, but his smile remained, just a little brighter now.