Pardon The Way That I Stare

Sicker Soup

Alastor carried the steaming bowl of soup upstairs, moving quietly into the room where Lucifer lay, still pale and shivering under the blankets. He set the tray down gently on the bedside table, careful not to wake him just yet.

As he adjusted the blankets around Lucifer, he couldn't help but glance at his flushed face, the usual glow gone as he fought off the cold. A sigh escaped Alastor's lips—he wasn't used to seeing his lively, energetic boyfriend in such a state.

"Poor thing," Alastor muttered softly, sitting on the edge of the bed, gently brushing Lucifer's hair back from his forehead. "I've got some soup for you when you're ready."

Lucifer stirred at the touch, blinking groggily as his eyes fluttered open. His voice was raspy as he tried to speak. "Alastor...?" he croaked, trying to push himself up, but his body refused to cooperate.

"Easy, now," Alastor said, guiding him back down. "I've made you some soup, but you need to rest first."

Lucifer shook his head weakly. "I'm fine," he insisted, his voice cracking. He shifted to sit up, wincing as a wave of dizziness hit him. Alastor sighed, giving him a pointed look as he held him steady.

"You're not fine," Alastor replied, his tone soft but firm. "You've barely been able to move, let alone walk."

Lucifer groaned, but before he could argue, his legs wobbled as he swung them over the side of the bed, attempting to stand. Alastor reached out to steady him, but Lucifer brushed him off. "I'm good," he insisted, though his face was pale.

Alastor stood by, arms folded across his chest, watching him with a mixture of concern and amusement. "Oh really? Then let's see how far you get."

Lucifer huffed in mock indignation and took a wobbly step forward. He made it a few more feet before his knees buckled and the world swayed around him. Before he could hit the floor, Alastor was at his side, catching him with a practiced grace.

"I told you," Alastor murmured as he scooped Lucifer up into his arms effortlessly, cradling him like he weighed nothing. "You're going back to bed."

Lucifer, too weak to protest, allowed himself to be carried, his head resting against Alastor's shoulder. "You're annoyingly right," he muttered, sniffling.

Alastor laid him back down gently, pulling the covers back over him. "Of course I am," he teased with a smirk, "but I'll refrain from saying 'I told you so.'" He reached for the soup bowl and held it out to Lucifer, who reluctantly accepted.

Lucifer took a small sip, his expression shifting as the warmth soothed his sore throat. His eyes flicked up to meet Alastor's. "You even remembered what soup I like," he whispered, his voice softer now. "You always remember..."

Alastor smiled warmly. "Of course I did. I take care of what's mine."

Lucifer's lips twitched into a weak smile before he took another sip of the soup. "I love you," he whispered, his words barely audible but enough to make Alastor's heart skip.

"I love you too," Alastor replied, placing a gentle kiss on Lucifer's forehead.

After a while, when Lucifer had eaten as much as he could manage, Alastor set the bowl aside and laid back down beside him. Lucifer curled into him, his head resting against Alastor's chest.

The room was filled with the quiet sound of their breathing, and as Alastor absentmindedly rubbed small circles on Lucifer's back, he felt his boyfriend's breathing start to slow.

"Rest now, my love," Alastor whispered, pressing his lips to Lucifer's temple as his eyes fluttered shut again.

With the warmth of Alastor's embrace and the sound of his soothing heartbeat, Lucifer finally slipped back into a peaceful sleep.