Planning a Hell of a Wedding | ✓ purchasing attire
Drabble 05 / ?
Setting: Sometime after s5
Word count: 500 (+ 100)
Rating: T
Summary of the series: The Devil and the Detective make their way through the wedding planning checklist. One is more passionate about it than the other. (Works as a sequel to this fic.)
Author’s note: Couldn’t help but include a little bonus something in this one.
‘Twenty-five thousand dollars? On a tuxedo?! Lucifer!’
He looks completely unabashed as they stand in their kitchen, a crumbled and slightly stained receipt laid out on the counter—proof that he has spent more than twice her monthly salary on one outfit.
‘What?’ he asks innocently. ‘Did you seriously expect me to go off the rack, Detective? For our nuptials, of all occasions?’
Chloe shakes her head at him, not as an answer to his question but in response to how utterly absurd he is.
‘Speaking of,’ Lucifer says, returning his attention to the espresso machine and completely ignoring her obvious irritation, ‘have you talked to Carolina yet?’
He starts the coffee grinder, forcing Chloe to shout over the obnoxious roaring. ‘Lucifer, I am not having my wedding dress designed by Carolina frigging Herrera!’
The whirring stops and he offers her nothing but an unapologetic smile. ‘Well, you’re welcome.’ His eyes are focused on her as he tamps the grounds now in the portafilter, looking her up and down her. ‘I just want you to wear something you’re comfortable in. Something that does your exquisite body justice.’
‘And I’ll find just that,’ she assures him. ‘In a store. To a price below 1,000 dollars.’
‘You know, the cost really isn’t an iss-’
‘I know, Lucifer. Thank you.’
His lips tug slightly up at the corner before he resumes finishing his coffee. For a second, they both just quietly watch the dark liquid spill into his ‘#1 step-Devil’ mug. Automatically, he grabs the bottle of brandy from its permanent spot next to the machine, adds a generous amount to his steaming coffee, and comes to join her by the sink.
There’s a fondness in his warm, brown eyes as he looks at her, his gaze softer than before. ‘Whatever you find, love, I’m positive you’ll look absolutely heart-stopping. I mean, at this point, I’m so far gone, you could show up in your sweats and that filthy rag you call a t-shirt, and you’d still take my breath away.’
He hands her the mug for her to have a sip, and she does, smiling at him over the brim.
‘Well, I’m glad,’ she says half-teasingly, brushing her fingers against his as she gives him back his (heavily) brandy-laced coffee. ‘I’ve heard it can be quite difficult finding just the right dress. It’s good to have a back-up.’
He looks genuinely conflicted for a moment, but then there’s a tell-tale glint in his eye and a smirk on his stupidly handsome face. ‘If nothing suits your fancy, you could always just wear, you know. Nothing.’
She grins at him, despite herself. ‘Wouldn’t you like that?’
He lets out a low, lascivious chuckle and sets down his mug on top of the almost-forgotten receipt. ‘Oh, I most certainly would,’ he murmurs, lips pressed to her neck. His fingers start unbuttoning her shirt, and she has absolutely no intention of stopping him.
+
‘You clean up nicely,’ he whispers in her ear as her hand is placed in his. She knows he attempts at a playful tone, but his glistening eyes and his smile, more heartfelt than ever, get in the way. She leans close to him as their family and friends settle down behind them. ‘You don’t look to bad yourself.’ Her eyes glide over him, heat already prickling behind them. ‘But still a waste of money, I think. I still very much prefer your birthday suit.’
Their officiant clears his throat, and Chloe looks ahead, but not before catching the delirious grin on her very-soon-to-be husband’s face.