All I am is a man.
word count: 3,759 words
Lucifer experiences what the classic late night time is in England.
hello, hi! it's me and my annual upload. don't worry, i've not abandoned danganronpa, but this one was just more in the forefront of my mind. plus i'm hungry, and im british (sorry), so take my solutions.
00:43PM
He's not entirely sure how he got here.
Lucifer Morningstar; the Great Lightbringer, the Tempter, The Prince of The Power of The Air (yes, he was also called that. Somewhere...).
But he imagined that when he was finally able to come to Earth, it would be more poetic: he'd fall on a Church, and he'd run into some priest or nun, and philosophise about how the capricious winds feel so alive tonight, the pretty rays of sunshine that never reached Lucifer in Hell, the grass' greenliness- or more so the concrete's grey-scaled demeanor. The sudden industrialisation of Earth frightened him a bit.
This didn't happen though, which was what truly made him feel so existential tonight. He felt so suddenly small and insignificant- not in the way that made him seem unworthy, but in the way that he recognised that he was so close to being human in this moment, he could blend into a group of people and not be picked out for any strange features of his.
He had built new walls of a new person. No longer was his ostentation a barefaced flaunt of red and gold-trimmed silks and top hats that screamed the average 1900's capitalist (despite his lack of input into the economy). You could even say he looked... humble. His pride has never felt so small.
But he didn't hate it. No, in fact, he was intrigued. As he looked down, woolly gloves covered the blackened skin of his hands, and the forearms were already covered by the dark-grey fleece jacket given to him. His red cheeks weren't visible under the cashmere scarf, and the paleness of his skin was easy to miss under the dismal dusk. He looked human.
Of course, he didn't have his top hat. That got replaced with a "beanie". That's the one thing he sneered a bit at when it was handed to him.
Looking away from his hands, he looks from the concrete, to the pair of feet next to him, synchronised with his own gait.
"You've gone all quiet- you that hungry?"
You're a weird one, he thought. Shouldn't you feel a bit more afraid at being with him? He is the Devil, although when you had told him about how people depicted him in movies and such, it wasn't much of a surprise that you'd be underwhelmed. You say you're not underwhelmed, but Lucifer doubts you. But you're more stubborn than his own daughter, so he doesn't say it aloud to you anymore.
You told him you were fascinated with him like someone who had just heard a glimpse of an old friend. He expected you to have said something more like a historian who wanted to tap Eurydice on the shoulder. Or a adult who found an old toy they played with as a kid.
"Ah- yes. I've always wanted to see the culinary of the world. We don't have much um, culture where I'm from."
It feels weird to say he comes from Hell. You already know that fact, but something in him wants to stay in this moment of time. Where he feels insignificant. Where he feels... average.Common.
"Pssh- well, we aren't in London, so we aren't gonna get much of "culture" here. But! You do get great kebabs in every town of England."
00:54PM
It feels like a big joke that the first thing the King of Hell eats on Earth will be from a trailer.
You both stand outside the trailer, hands in pockets. He narrows his eyes in confusion and you only sigh like it's an old dream.
"Kebab.. that's.. Turkish, right?" He turns to you, your hungry and dreamy smile still plastered on you as you both look at the menu.
"Ehh. Well, it supposedly originates from Turkey when warriors and armies would grill fresh hunts on swords over open field fires, hence that." You point inside of the trailer, where the smoky aroma originated over the skewered meats and vegetables.
Lucifer looked over at it with wide eyes and a sudden growl in his stomach. "Ah.. I see. But- "supposedly"? Is this one of your "maybe, maybe not" things you humans pull?"
That got a laugh from you, and he feels his pride swell in a way it hadn't before. It wasn't the way that makes him want to show off, wanting to demonstrate his superiority- it was in a way that made him feel appreciated. At that moment, pride doesn't feel like a sin.
"Yeaaahh, kinda. Whilst it's evident in a Turkish script in 1377, it was also first mentioned in texts from the 9th Century AD. Persian Empire, I'm pretty sure, and it's a bit more credible since "kabab" means "to fry" in Persian."
You both stared at the menu for a while, Lucifer feeling a bit puzzled, but he settled for-
"Chicken Shawarma wrap?" He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes to look at the ingredients underneath.
"Oohh.. that looks good. The portions are pretty big though, you sure you can handle that?" There was a teasing glint in your eyes as you looked at the option he chose. Chicken, garlic, lettuce, onions all wrapped in a flatbread.
"Haha. I'm not sure where everyone gets the guts to tease me for my height. Especially you- you're what, an inch taller?"
"Mm, no. Two inches, sorry." You snicker as you make up your mind on your own choice. "Want any drinks? Desserts? We can eat those later."
"Well yes, we were going to eat everything later anyways." He's a bit huffy now. Poor guy. Fell over 1000 miles from Heaven, and still can't grow 2 more inches. You know what they say, those 2 inches go somewhere els-
"What? No, the whole point of eating kebab is to eat it outside. The novelty of sitting on the curb and eating out of the wrapping is something I'm surprised Hell doesn't have."
You're more than weird at this point, he thought, you're outright insane. He's not snobby. At least not too snobby. But sitting on the cold concrete and eating out of paper and boxes? When you have perfectly good plates at home? Oh, you're going to hear an earful from him now!
"...Weird. But okay."
His inner turmoil resolves this the way you seemed to do. It's such a non-issue, that he can't help but laugh a bit and keep moving.
01:01AM
You both get to the window of the trailer, a man with black hair wrapped into a bun and some glasses on stares you two down with an expecting stare. Lucifer suddenly feels awkward. You only smile.
"What can I get you?"
"We'll have 2 chicken shawarma wraps, a can of coke and- do you want fanta? I feel like you're a fanta guy." You turn to him, wallet in hand.
"What flavour is it?"
"Fanta."
"What in the unholy-hell is fanta flavour?!"
"Uh.. fanta. I don't know what you want me to sa-"
"It's orange flavoured. Stop being difficult." The man swats you on the head with a paper.
"Hey, don't treat your regulars like that." You grumble at the black-haired man who only stifles a chuckle and waits for Lucifer, all sighing and shaking his head at you.
"I'll get the fanta."
"He will get the fanta!" You cheered quietly, jazz hands and all as you meet his gaze. You both stare with the mirth of the banter from before, glinting in each other's eyes.
The man holds out the card reader, and you quickly tap your card onto it and wait for the beep and the sink of your bank account. This is worth it, you thought.
You both back away to the side as you wait in the wind. It's less like a breeze and more like cold air that sits and sometimes dances on you. It's refreshing, especially for Lucifer, the one who had been trapped in Hell's brimstone ever since it's creation.
"Y'know, I never thought the Devil would be blond."
The blond raises a brow at you, a confused smirk on him as he hums back, "Why's that?"
"That one painting of you- you look ginger." He watches you snicker as you pull out your phone to show him, and indeed, he looks ginger.
"....Never. In my life. Will. I. Be. Ginger."
You can't help but laugh, holding his shoulders as you double over a bit.
"Yeah- it was either that or you were like- Bad Omens version." Lucifer sighs at your reference.
"I don't get it."
"Of course you don't, you're uncultured. Here." And when you show him, he gapes. Then closes his mouth when he looks again.
"..That's Satan." You blink at him and tilt your head.
"Isn't that the same thing?" Your voice wavers, caught off guard at the revelation. He shakes his head, backing away to clear his throat.
"Well, not for us, at least. In theory, I don't really exist as Lucifer at all. I should be called Satan. Isiah 14:12 is where "Lucifer" comes from, but it's actually meant as a descriptive term, rather than a name. Lucifer means morning star."
You watch his face contort into something sombre and longing, and you hear his voice grow tired and distracted. It's painful, it's like seeing an orphan reminisce on their family; it basically was that.
In a cartoon, you'd probably see him kick the dirt, hands in his pockets as he looks up at where Heaven should be.
You hope you don't see him cry tonight.
"...I was going to be called Alex, but my parents got put off by it because their friends' cat was called Alex."
It's a fact-drop strange enough to break Lucifer's trance, and he just stares at you. There's a smile growing in his chest and he feels something akin to a laugh bubbling in him.
"Will you stab me if I call you Alex?"
"Will you send me to Hell if I call you short again?"
Mutual agreement ties you both to the synchronised action of nodding and giggling, before looking over at the man again to check the status of your food. He seems to be putting it into the small styrofoam boxes.
"God, that looks great." You sigh, taking Lucifer's hand and walking back over to the window. You both take your wraps, and you're able to stuff the cans in each other's pocket, so Lucifer held your coke, and you held his fanta.
"Do we select the suitable curb to sit on now?" Lucifer hums to you, staring down at the food, and yep, he's in Heaven. Seriously, the food here already smells so much better than Hell's fast food. Take-out had never looked so appetizing.
"Indeed we do, shall we?"
You hold out your arm to the shorter man, and you take about 10 steps before sitting on the curb that faces out to more open stores (mostly vape stores, and off-license stores), and slowly settle down onto it.
It's a sigh of relief for your legs to feel the state of rest finally. You look over at Lucifer and you can't help but smirk a bit as he stares at the wrap like it's some relic.
You lean into his ear and whisper, "You're supposed to eat that, y'know, not gawk."
"I'm getting to it, don't rush me." The Devil swats you away, a flush arising at the proximity you had put him in for those few seconds before he finally lifts it up to his mouth and bites into it, and...
"Holy shit- I've been missing THIS my entire life?!" Lucifer practically shrieks, overwhelmed by every taste bud in his tongue blossoming. It makes you grin. You find the glitter and jitter of a poor man finding gold in his eyes. It's beautiful.
"I'm surprised you haven't tried this before. You said there are a lot of restaurants in Hell."
"Yes well, nothing so nicely done. It's more of a one or the other situation. Gourmet 5-course meals or fast food with a bit of brains and blood. I may be the Devil but.. I'm not accustomed to dining on demon viscera." Lucifer sighed, almost enraptured by every bite, small bits of lettuce and garlic sauce garnering at the corners of his mouth. It's so messy that you can't help but stop and stare. Again, it's beautiful.
"Ah, well. Different strokes for different folks, no?" You shrug, deftly gripping the wrap in it's foil and began to bite. Less mess is made on your lap and face, seeing as this isn't your first rodeo.
The saying you mumbled out makes Lucifer laugh though, at the cost of him having to cover up his smile as he keels over to make sure he doesn't choke as the laugh controls his lungs for a moment. At that point, the action makes his knees spread open to allow him to double over, and your legs are now touching. It's hard not to move in closer so your sides will be completely attached- but tonight is not about restraint. So you allow your free hand to slowly push your weight up and over to the small space that separates you two.
And Lucifer most certainly notices this, his yellow sclera disappear entirely, his red irises dilating to take in the sudden shift. Slow breathing. He needs to stay calm, because this could be just something trivial and insignificant. Like him, the moment before; suddenly he feels a lot of like the only person in the world in your striking gaze.
But he clears his throat and smirks, "Getting comfy or are you just cold?" It's a relief that comes to you, thankfully, that he breaks that sudden tension build.
"Well, you're from fire and brimstone, so surely you're the hottest thing here?" An intentional innuendo, carefully placed in such a reckless manner, one that makes him widen his eyes again and laugh.
"Well I-" Oh god, he doesn't know what to say. He hasn't been at the centre of genuine affections in a while, and whilst this may be a far reach, it still counts for him. He straights out his jacket and rearranges the beanie on his head to distract himself from his words.
"I'm not the warmest thing down there actually. There are actual entities made of fire, and if you stuck us in a room together I would be the first to boil probably."
Taking another bite, he looks down and lets the air cool him down. With the air, it carries your giggles as you sigh and look down at the small amount of wrap you have left.
"I'm not too sure how I'd react if I see a man made of fire." You take one more bite and swallow it down, the gulp heavy in your system, because god you can feel the warmth radiate from him. It's a temptation, and nonetheless, of the Devil. But it's not carnal, it's not clothes-ripping and squelching of skin. It's also not romantic. He doesn't feel like this is romantic. But you both don't feel like it's truly platonic either.
It's a connection that's beginning to run deeper than the funny labels of romance and friendship. A soul-tie, maybe. But putting a label on it at all feels stupid.
Does he want to kiss you?
He looks over at you, and he sees you balling up the wrapper and box, head turning and twisting to find a bin until you spot the one not too far ahead. He notices the furrowed brows, the almost rugged yet well-kept hair that floats about your head. You're pretty. You're handsome- gorgeous, even. You have to be an angel, but you're only human, and it's almost like it makes more sense for you to be human. No other attachments- you aren't a royal of any kingdom, you don't have demon blood, you're not a sinner but also no saint. You're someone that to anyone else wouldn't catch the Devil's eye.
And yet, he wants to kiss you. Maybe even in such an action he could capture the strange tie he felt with your heart and mind. He does in fact want to hold your head in his lap, and cherish you like an heirloom. He thinks of you like some shooting star that he wants to wish on.
"Wait- check this out." You interrupt his thoughts mid-bite of his now finished wrap, him mirroring your prior actions and balling the box and wrapper up as he watched you.
You narrow your eyes, lean in like a warrior easy to strike. One arm is held out horizontal to the bin and the other arm is behind your head, wrapper in hand as you take aim and-
"That was horrific." Lucifer chortles out, pointing at the complete miss of your throw- the ball now floating off a metre away from the bin.
"What?! No- Gimme yours." You hold out your hand, and he plants it in your palm without missing the way you brush each other's skin and feel the simultaneous shiver.
You mirror his actions from before too, clearing your throat to break your entranced gaze on him and aim for the bin again.
"Hah! See I did it-" You turn to look at Lucifer, but his index and middle finger catch your eye, glowing with golden aureate rays.
"Did you now?"
The ball comes back to plop you in the head, the same aura around it.
"Wow, so you're a bully then? Is this what my lasting opinion of you will be forever? The King of Hell is a bully." You glare at him, amused even at the tease. The ends of your lips curl a bit, wanting to smile and giggle. And you do.
"Awe, poor you. Should we go tell a trusted adult about this?" Lucifer snickers back at you, grabbing the balls and throwing them perfectly back into the bin.
"You're horrible, y'know that?"
You both laugh and find the ability to hold each other with arms around one-another's shoulders. Lucifer can't remember when he last felt the air push out of him and leave him so full with joy and thrill. You can't either, although, when you think about it, you're always laughing at something.
02:00AM
It's been about an hour you've stayed out together tonight. It's still at a temperature that makes you bristle with the air, but it falls flat against your main line of defence: Lucifer's arm and shoulder.
You both found it in each other to open up to more touches, an arm wrapped around his torso an arm around your shoulder. You've leant your head on his shoulder and his on your head. Kind of.
"It's getting' colder. Should we go?"
"Yeahhh..." But you've not moved, if anything your grip gets tighter and you sigh like you've landed in a pile of clouds. In your opinion, you have.
"That was good shawarma." Lucifer finally hums out, eyes closed to focus on the homely scent of your shampoo. Lavender? Maybe a bit of lemon-grass. Either way, he buries his face into the top of your head, like you would to your pet cat.
"Yeah- honestly, anything with garlic has a grip on me."
"Looks like you have a grip on me too." Lucifer notes, eyes flicking to how your fingers curl into the jacket you gave him.
"Problem?"
"Not at all. In fact I don't think I've felt so alive in ages. Maybe it's because I live in Hell."
"Probably. But either way, I'm glad you came.. up here? You're... amazing."
Lucifer closes his eyes tightly to stop his heart beating so hard, because you are so close to it that you run the risk of hearing it. And even more so, he worries that you will rip it out and run away with it.
"I think you're amazing too."
"You don't have to go back down yet, do you?"
His foot taps on the faded-black tarmac, a sigh leaving him.
"We don't have to think about that yet." His grip tightens with yours, and you can feel the distinct planting of lips on your forehead.
"I suppose so. But, do you think we could at least do this again? We can go try other things on the menu, maybe even venture out."
The blonde's brow quirks up, "What kind of adventures do you plan for us then?"
You finally sit up, and you both feel the burning feeling of the cold hitting the warm spots. You also feel the sizzling of each other's touch that you wanted to retreat back into.
"Well, London is about an hour and a bit away. It's pretty at night. Plus, I've always wanted to go with a friend." Friend. It feels nice to have a friend- but it feels wrong to say that that is all you want from this. You don't know if you'd ever call him your boyfriend. "Lover" feels a bit more alike it, but even that feels strange.
"Other half", maybe?
"London.. I'd quite like to see that."
"Then it's settled. How about, next week? I take you to London, anytime you appear to me next week, and you stay until the next morning."
"The next morning? Greedy, aren't you?"
You both stand and begin to wipe off the crumbs and debris of the pavement.
"Maybe I am, does that mean I'm gonna go to Hell now?" He watches you slowly back away, careless of if you hit anything, hands in pockets and he's sure your balance will throw you off. But it doesn't, and your smirk is all that he sees.
"Oh yes, it is. In fact, I think when I go back, I might have to warn everyone of your sins. Horrifying, truly." He returns the smirk, planted in his own place as you fish out your keys.
"Make sure you put up wanted posters of me. I want the prize to get me to be worth a tower of gold."
"Okay, now you're greedy." Lucifer laughs, the clinking of your keys around your finger not stopping him from taking one last look at you. You've stopped backing away, and you watch as his hand twirls out with a cane, a carmine-red apple adorned on it. Gleaming, gold aureate arms reach out from his cane, beginning to encase him.
"Only for you."
His eyes shoot out in wide shapes, and just before he can ask and demand what you mean- he's back in his workshop.
03:00AM
