Fic: Off to Burger Heaven
Title: Off to Burger Heaven
Author: discreetmath
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Castiel/Lucifer
Spoilers: General season 5. Goes AU during 5x22.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 6100.
Summary: When Lucifer chooses to let Sam go and back down from his fight with Michael, God returns him to Earth as a human. Castiel takes him in, and he does his best to help Lucifer adjust to a life without his grace. Lucifer doesn't always make it easy on him.
A/N: Written for the spn-reversebang for the wonderful art by chibifukurou. Original prompt is here. Enormous thanks to Chibi for her fantastic art, which was even better than I could have hoped for. Please be sure to check it out and let her know!
Disclaimer: These people do not belong to me, and this is all fiction.
Link to Art Masterpost: Here.
"Just try it. You'll like it, I know you will," Cas insists, taking a sip of lemonade.
"I sincerely doubt that. Ground-up cow meat stuffed inside of bread? It's barbaric."
Cas raises his eyebrows in disbelief.
"Really? You're calling this barbaric? It's a cheeseburger, and it's delicious." Cas sits back and folds his arms. "You know what's barbaric? Trying to wipe the human race off the face of the planet."
"I apologized for that," Lucifer mutters, picking at his fries. "And besides, look at that." He gestures toward Cas' burger. "Yours is pink inside. How can you stand it?"
Cas sighs in exasperation before flagging down the waitress and ordering a fruit salad.
Lucifer eats it sullenly, looking out the window and pointedly ignoring Cas. It's going to be a long day, he can tell.
---
Sam Winchester had proven stronger than expected. When he said "yes" to Lucifer, everyone expected him to be taken over, crushed under the weight of Lucifer's grace. The plan required him to maintain control, but nobody actually expected things to go according to plan. Not really. Sam's soul was bright, though, and sharing space with it had an irreversible effect on Lucifer. All those millennia of hatred, resentment, and bitterness were impossible to get past entirely, but Sam gave him new perspective.
He saw how deeply Sam loved Dean and how badly he wanted to save humanity from his own mistakes, and Lucifer suddenly felt doubt. It wasn't much, but it was enough to shake his convictions. When he backed down from his fight with Michael, to call his brother angry would have been a gross understatement; however, he'd already made his choice. He let Sam go, leaving his vessel without knowing what might happen to him. He couldn't enter Heaven, and he was no longer welcome in Hell. He wouldn't take another vessel, and as time went on he could feel his grace slipping away.
He woke up one sunny afternoon in the middle of Stull Cemetery, utterly human and alone in a body that looked inexplicably like Nick's. He didn't know how he'd gotten here after leaving Sam, nor did he realize that months had passed since the day he'd done it, so he'd started walking.
---
Cas stomps around the apartment, scowling as he picks up mug after half-empty mug. He's glad Lucifer has found something he likes (even if coffee has no real nutritional value), but this habit is annoying to say the very least. This place may not be much, but Cas likes to keep it orderly and tidy. If he feels the need to cope with being human by cleaning compulsively, then that's his own business. But he has no desire to spend his Saturday morning hunting down all of Lucifer's mugs from the previous day (six, in total) to carry them into the kitchen.
Lucifer chooses that moment to wander out of the second bedroom, hair sticking up at odd angles as he rubs a hand over his eyes. His vessel - his body, now - is scarred, like whoever put him there saw fit to leave reminders of the things he had done. As if he could really forget. Cas acknowledges that his human mind can't hold all of the memories he'd held as an angel, but the big things -- the bright, sharp, beautiful, painful ones -- are still with him.
He comes into the kitchen, bypassing Cas where he's washing dishes at the sink to grab a bowl from the cupboard and fill it with Cheerios. He's learned to buy the Honey Nut variety only, because Lucifer's as fickle as a child when it comes to food. Cas isn't really sure when his life became this surreal. He suspects it always has been, but that angels just aren't capable of noticing these things in quite the same way as humans.
"Would it be so difficult for you to bring your dishes to the sink?" Cas asks him, as politely as he can.
"Maybe I'm trying to teach you a lesson," Lucifer intones, raising an eyebrow at Cas. Cas just crosses his arms, a habit he's picked up since Lucifer's been living here, and waits. "Maybe," Lucifer continues, "you shouldn't be so concerned about keeping things tidy all the time." He punctuates his sentence by shaking Cheerios out of the box and onto the pristine kitchen floor.
Cas feels his eye twitch, but he's determined not to give Lucifer the satisfaction of knowing he's upset.
"I'm not that concerned," he grumbles, pushing past Lucifer on his way out of the kitchen. The sound of the cereal crunching under his feet grates on his nerves, but he doesn't slow down.
The pile of Cheerios stays where it is for three days, getting crushed into finer and finer pieces, until finally Cas walks into the kitchen and catches Lucifer with the broom and dustpan. The expression on his face is an interesting combination of practiced disinterest and annoyance at having been caught. Cas does his best not to appear smug, but after that incident, he does notice that Lucifer rinses his own dishes more often than not.
When you live with the former Prince of Hell, it's best to appreciate the small victories.
---
From what Cas understands, Lucifer's path from Stull Cemetery to Cas' second bedroom went something like this:
Stranded in Lawrence, he had clung to a memory from that brief time he'd spent sharing headspace with Sam. To her credit, Missouri Mosley didn't even bat an eye when Lucifer showed up on her doorstep. She'd been able to see right away that he wasn't an angel anymore, and she called Bobby Singer as soon as she could get to a phone. Bobby had been horrified, but when he realized the reality of the situation, he'd started laughing.
"Serves him right," he'd said. "Just kick him out. He ain't your problem and he sure as hell ain't mine."
Cas doesn't know the specifics, but the way Bobby had cringed when recounting the rest of that conversation had given him a fair idea. Bobby and the Winchesters all seem to take Missouri's wrath quite seriously.
So Bobby had asked Dean for his help, and Dean had, predictably, hung up the phone on him. Five minutes later, Sam had called Bobby back for details. Either he had been feeling more forgiving than Dean, or his curiosity was just that much greater. Regardless, when the news finally made its way to Cas in his apartment in Indiana, it had only taken a few brief moments of consideration before he offered his help.
At that point, Cas had been living on his own as a human for four months, with intermittent support from Sam and Dean. He was finally doing better, but it had been a rough adjustment. Lucifer was a lot of things, most of them terrible, but he was still Cas' brother. Cas didn't want him to have to do it on his own.
Dean had spouted curses, creative ones that Cas had never heard before, interspersed with "absolutely not!" and "are you out of your goddamn mind?" and every other protesting noise he could muster, but you don't live as long as Cas has without learning to be a little mulish when it's necessary. When Sam and Dean dropped Lucifer off at Cas' doorstep -- the thought of those 500 awkward miles in the Impala made him shudder -- he'd gotten a sneered "Hello, Castiel" and a bedroom door slammed in his face.
Cas imagines this is what raising a teenager must be like.
---
"I don't know why you're so determined to make me watch these films, Castiel. I promise you, I'm not interested." Lucifer is on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table, scowling belligerently.
"These are the first movies that I saw after I became completely human. The Winchesters said it was important to watch them, and they're really quite good. Just give them a chance." He puts the first DVD into the player and drops down next to Lucifer on the couch.
"I'm comfortable, and I'm not moving just because you can't take no for an answer," Lucifer huffs. Cas rolls his eyes and presses play. By the time Luke finds the message Leia left with R2-D2, Lucifer has forgotten to look disinterested. Cas is very careful not to let on that he's noticed.
When, two nights later, Lucifer's eyes are shiny at the end of Return of the Jedi, Cas gets up to grab himself another root beer out of the fridge. He stalls in the kitchen for a few minutes before returning to the couch. Lucifer seems to have recovered, and he rolls his eyes.
"They were all right, Cas, but I don't really see what all of the fuss is about. The special effects were terrible, and there's no way the Ewoks could have possibly defeated the Stormtroopers. They were glorified teddy bears, at best." Cas nods and does his best to hold back a smile.
After they watch the prequels the following weekend, Lucifer refuses to speak to him for two days.
---
The irony of this, of Castiel teaching another fallen angel how to be human, doesn't escape him. He likes to think that Dean would point it out, would make light of it, but Dean hasn't really visited since Cas volunteered to take Lucifer in. Given the circumstances, he can't exactly begrudge Dean his absence.
So far Cas has taught Lucifer how to shower, how to floss, and how to use his cell phone. There haven't been any driving lessons, thank goodness, since Cas lives within walking distance of his job at the library and only owns a bike. Lucifer had balked at the idea of learning to ride a bicycle, so that hadn't been an issue, either.
Somehow, Cas hadn't ever considered that he might have to deal with this. He feels a renewed sense of respect for what Sam and Dean must have gone through with him.
He's barely in the door after work when he sees Lucifer disappear back the hall, the bathroom door slamming shut a moment later.
"Oh, for the love of--" Cas toes off his shoes before going to see what's wrong. He's halfway through the living room when he sees a paperback book poking out from underneath the couch. He goes to pick it up and flushes with embarrassment.
Cas has shelves upon shelves of respectable books in the apartment, so naturally Lucifer would have snooped around until he found Cas' trashiest gay erotica.
He drops his head, defeated, because he's pretty sure he can guess why Lucifer has locked himself in the bathroom. He walks back the hall and taps on the door.
"Luc? You all right in there?"
"I'm fine," comes the muffled reply. "Go away and stop bothering me."
"Lucifer," he tries again, his voice soothing. "It's not a big deal. It freaked me out the first time, too, but it's totally normal." He's going out on a limb here, but he doesn't think it's a very long one.
Lucifer is silent for a minute.
"How do I make it stop?" he asks in a small voice.
"You just have to, you know. Take care of it." Cas is blushing now, wanting nothing less than to have to explain this in any greater detail.
"I don't know what to do," Lucifer complains, his voice creeping up into a whine. "It's really uncomfortable."
"Just," Cas pinches the bridge of his nose. "Do whatever feels good. Try different things until you find something you like. There's no right or wrong way to do it, I swear."
Lucifer is quiet for another long minute, and then he makes a noise that Cas has no desire to interpret.
"Castiel, you can go away now." Not needing to be told twice, Cas hurries back out to the kitchen to get started on dinner.
Lucifer comes out fifteen minutes later, looking sheepish.
"We need new guest towels," he mumbles, fixing himself a plate from the stove.
"You really need to learn to do laundry," Cas complains, and that's the last they speak of it.
---
Cas doesn't know why he ever thought this was a good idea.
Lucifer gets bored sitting around the apartment all day - Cas gets that, he does - but he turns up his nose at the idea of getting a job, instead insisting upon accompanying Cas to work now and then. This might not be the worst thing, but it's taken Cas weeks just to get Lucifer to respect the unwritten rule of keeping a low volume in the library.
Now he just drives Cas up a wall quietly.
"You have to admit, Cas. If this is the sort of drivel that young humans are reading, the future of humanity is a bleak one." He's found a copy of what looks to be a Gossip Girl novel and he's waving it around in Cas' face. "And do you have any idea how many romance books about vampires I saw back there? It's baffling, Castiel. Baffling."
Cas sighs in exasperation. It's not that he doesn't agree, because in the few short months he's been working at the library he's developed a number of opinions on this very subject. He's just busy logging books into the system, and he could really do with a few minutes of peace.
"I happen to agree," he says reluctantly, not in the mood for the smug look Lucifer fixes on him. "But not everybody reads those books. There are many that are of a much higher quality, and I think you're just choosing to bypass them in favor of the ones that will make your point."
Lucifer's smirk is quickly replaced with a petulant glare.
"I highly doubt that," he sniffs.
Ten minutes later, Cas sits him down in an overstuffed armchair with The Fellowship of the Ring. Three hours after that, Cas' shift is over and he has to drag Lucifer to the counter to check the book out before they go home. Now it's his turn to look smug, but he decides to be the bigger person and keeps his face carefully blank.
---
It's mid-morning when Cas hears the door to Lucifer's bedroom open. He curses silently, knowing he'll never get any rest now. He coughs, trying to keep it quiet so as not to draw attention to himself, but Lucifer hears him anyway.
"Castiel, is that you? Shouldn't you be at work already?" Lucifer flips on the light in the living room, and Cas has to squint against the harshness of it, rolling over to bury his face in the back of the couch. "Castiel, are you all right?" That question warrants a glance back over Cas' shoulder at Lucifer, who appears a bit concerned for Cas' well-being.
Wonders never cease.
"No," Cas scrapes out through his rough throat. "I think I'm dying." He knows he's being unnecessarily dramatic, but he feels terrible. The flash of distress across Lucifer's face makes him feel guilty, and he flaps a hand dismissively. "I'll be fine. It's just a cold, I think. I've had one before."
Lucifer shifts from foot to foot, obviously not convinced. He nods once, clearly making up his mind about something, and sits down at the end of the couch, forcing Cas to yank his legs out of the way.
"What's it like?" he asks, his tone an odd mix between curiosity and worry.
"It varies for everyone, I think. My head is congested, and I feel like I can't breathe properly. My throat hurts. I'm cold, too, which didn't happen last time." He frowns. "It's very unpleasant. My whole body aches. I wouldn't recommend it," he adds, his attempt at a joke thwarted by another coughing fit, his lungs burning as he folds in on himself.
He feels the couch shift, and when he looks up, Lucifer is gone. Cas sighs, wincing at the painful scratchiness in his throat. He manages to be positive about his humanity most of the time, and he likes to think he's adjusted quite well. But at times like this, he longs for the days when his grace prevented him from illness and injury. He's just resigned himself to lying on the couch and staring at the ceiling when Lucifer reappears, hovering over him with an unreadable expression.
"Here," he says simply, draping the blanket from his bed across Cas and tucking it around his feet. He looks thoughtful for a moment, and then he walks over to the television and grabs the remote control, setting it within easy reach. "I'll be back soon. Don't die, Castiel."
Now I'm hallucinating, Cas thinks. This can't possibly be good.
---
Cas wakes to the sound of the front door clicking shut. He twists around to peer over the back of the couch and sees Lucifer toeing off his shoes, laden down with plastic bags. He glances up and sees Cas watching him.
"The employee at the CVS store said that your symptoms are indicative of influenza, not a cold." Cas shuts his eyes and groans, flopping back down onto the couch as Lucifer continues. "She recommended a number of medications to me, and she said you should rest and drink a lot of liquids."
"I'm fine, I'll get something soon," Cas mutters. He feels a bit lost already, and Lucifer acting so strangely isn't helping that situation.
"Just stay there," Lucifer tells him, rolling his eyes.
About twenty minutes later, Lucifer is on the couch again, and Cas is sitting up to take a handful of Tylenol and decongestants. The coffee table is laden down with cough drops, tissues, bottled water, a steaming mug of tea, and a bowl of what looks like chicken and rice soup.
He works his way through it all, fighting his desire to just curl up and die. When he finishes the soup he glances at Lucifer just in time to see a pleased smile before he can cover it up.
When he's done, Lucifer guides Cas down to lie with his head in his lap and tugs the blanket up over him. Cas shoots him a questioning look, but Lucifer just shrugs.
"If you die from the flu, I might have to get a job."
"It hardly bears thinking about," Cas mumbles, pleased to note that his throat feels a bit better.
As he drifts off to sleep, Lucifer stroking his hair and a re-run of Friends droning on in the background, he decides that maybe hallucinations aren't the worst thing.
---
Six days later, in a fever-induced delirium, Lucifer threatens to smite Cas for bringing human illness upon him. Cas just smiles indulgently and lays a cold compress across his forehead.
"I've changed my mind," Lucifer sighs in relief. "You're my favorite."
---
Lucifer has been human for almost ten months when Cas tells him that he needs to start looking for employment. They're lying on Lucifer's bed, watching How to Train Your Dragon again, and no, Cas is not going to think about how strange that is.
"I don't care what it is, and I'm not worried about how much money you make, but it's part of being human," Cas insists. "You can't just hang around here or at the library all the time." This is far from the first time they've had this conversation, but Lucifer's ideas always seem to be deliberately implausible. So far, the highlights have been city councilman, famous actor, and high-society cat groomer.
Cas doesn't actually know if that last one was a joke. Lucifer does have quite an affinity for cats, even if he pretends to hate them.
"Maybe I could be a literary critic," Lucifer suggests, gesturing at the ever-growing collection of books in his room.
"I don't think that's the sort of thing you can just decide to do, Luc. You need credentials, or experience, or something like that." Cas is trying very hard not to sound annoyed, because he can never be entirely sure when Lucifer is being difficult on purpose.
"It can't be that hard, Cas! You should see some of the terrible things that get published, and people fall all over themselves to praise them. I wouldn't sugarcoat things, you know that."
"If that's the case, why bother reviewing books? If it's so easy to get one published, you should just write your own." Cas is being flippant, already regretting starting this conversation up again, and it takes him a minute to notice that Lucifer has gone silent beside him. He turns his head to see Lucifer nodding thoughtfully.
"You know what? That's exactly what I'm going to do. Just you wait, Castiel. I'm going to write a bestseller."
Cas turns back to the television and groans, knowing he's only got himself to blame. There's no way to tell how long Lucifer will be able to avoid getting a job now, under the guise of working on his novel.
"You'd better include me in the dedication," he grumbles, resigned.
"Who else?" Lucifer asks. "You're the only person I know. Simple process of elimination."
Cas glances over to see Lucifer smiling at him warmly. He does a quick double take, and now Lucifer is wearing his usual bored expression, focused on the television. He shakes his head and goes back to watching the movie.
---
Lucifer is fidgeting. This fact, on its own, has Cas sufficiently alarmed.
Lucifer has become increasingly comfortable in his skin over the past year, adapting to humanity in all the little ways that matter, and Cas has never seen him so… twitchy. He can't even ignore it, because the jiggling of his leg and his constant shifting around are disturbing the entire couch. Sam and Dean are coming by this evening for dinner, but he finds it hard to imagine that might be why. Cas expected annoyance, or antagonism, or really anything but the anxiety that's apparent in Lucifer's movements.
"Luc, are you okay? I can call them and tell them to come another time." Cas would rather not do that, honestly, since he hasn't seen the Winchesters since Lucifer has been staying with him. He's talked to them on the phone on occasion -- usually when they've had need of his knowledge -- but neither one of them were really comfortable with sharing space with Lucifer.
He understands, he really does, but he misses them. Getting them to agree to come tonight was an exercise in finesse that, frankly, Cas had found rather exhausting.
"What are you talking about, Castiel?" Lucifer asks with a roll of his eyes. "I'm certainly not afraid of the Winchesters."
"I didn't say you were, it's just…" Cas sees the way Lucifer tenses, and he thinks better of completing that thought. "I'm nervous," he lies. "I haven't seen them in a while, and they were my best friends, once. I've changed since then, and I don't know how they'll see me now that I'm not an angel anymore." That's actually pretty close to being true, though Cas has taken pains not to give it that much thought.
Lucifer narrows his eyes, sufficiently distracted.
"If they're really your friends, then they'll like you as you are, no matter what." He puts his hand on Cas' knee, just a bit uncertainly, and leans forward to catch his eye. "Besides, I'm sure I have far more discerning tastes than those apes, and I like you quite a bit."
Cas flushes, as much from the touch of Lucifer's hand as from his words.
"Just try not to call them apes to their faces, Luc," he mutters, laying his hand over Lucifer's and squeezing gently. They stay like that, both pretending to watch the television, until it's time to start cooking.
---
Dinner is an awkward affair, but it could easily have been worse. Cas' foresight in baking a pie goes a long way toward soothing Dean's animosity.
Sam does his best to keep the conversation going, while Dean alternates between scowling at Lucifer and shooting concerned glances at Cas, apparently trying to figure out whether he's being treated properly. Based on what he's seen on television and in films, it's a bit like introducing a new boyfriend to one's father. Cas tries to swallow the slightly hysterical laugh that bubbles up at that thought, but the three pairs of eyes that focus on him immediately tell him he's failed. Sam and Dean look torn between worry and confusion, but Lucifer just looks quietly amused.
It's the first real facial expression Lucifer's had since the Winchesters got here, and he's glad to see it. He stands up and lays a hand on Lucifer's shoulder before turning his attention to Sam and Dean.
"Would anyone like another beer?" He receives two nods and turns to retrieve them from the fridge.
"Get me one too, Cas." He turns around and frowns at Lucifer, who just rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically. "Sorry. Get me one please."
That's not why he was frowning -- Lucifer is rarely polite, and he's gotten rather used to it -- but he chooses not to question it. He grabs three beers and brings them back to the table. Lucifer downs his with alarming speed before getting up and getting another one. Cas frowns again. This is unlikely to end well.
---
Lucifer only makes it through three beers before throwing in the towel. By the time they move into the living room, he isn't capable of much more than leaning heavily on Cas and giggling at Sam's jokes, and even at a few of Dean's. He also laughs at a few things that aren't jokes, but Cas doesn't mind. He doesn't get to hear the sound all that much. Cas supposes he should have taught Lucifer about responsible alcohol consumption sooner, but he can't be expected to think of everything.
The upside is that Dean's assessment of Lucifer has been upgraded from "insidious mortal enemy" to "Cas' weird, grumpy roommate." That much is clear in his amused glances at Cas once Lucifer starts talking about the novel he's working on. He refuses to share any details, only insisting that it contains no romanticized werewolves or vampires.
"Have you read those Twilight books, Sam? Absolute trash," he declares, and Sam is clearly fighting not to lose his composure entirely. "Of course," Lucifer continues, "I suspect that Castiel here secretly loves them. He pretends to be a discerning reader, but you should see some of the 'literature' he keeps around the house." He throws Cas an exaggerated wink, and Cas just gapes at him for a moment before recovering.
"I'm not the one who insisted on reading the entire series 'just to be thorough,'" Cas retorts, trying to calm his blush. He hears a snicker and looks up to see Sam and Dean exchanging a disbelieving look.
"It's probably about time for us to get going," Sam says, sounding almost reluctant. "I had… well. I actually had a good time."
"Don't sound so surprised," Lucifer mumbles from where he's starting to doze off on Cas' shoulder.
"We'll come back and visit again soon," Dean promises, choosing to ignore Lucifer for the moment. He looks carefully at Cas, making sure to catch his eye before smiling. It's small but genuine, and he follows it with a deliberate nod. Cas sighs with relief before easing Lucifer off of him and down onto the couch. He gets up to show Sam and Dean out, thanking them and letting them know that they're welcome any time.
Sam claps a hand on his shoulder before heading out the door, and Dean nudges him with his elbow.
"Let me know if he gives you any problems, okay?" he says, but it's clear he's feeling reassured after spending the evening with Cas and Lucifer.
"Sure thing, Dad," Cas replies easily, and he savors Dean's surprised laugh.
He knows he's been managing just fine as a human, but it's nice to see that fact reflected in the eyes of his friends. He gives Dean one last smile before heading back inside and shutting the door. Cas takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the ordeal of putting Lucifer to bed.
---
"I don't understand," Cas admits once he's gotten Lucifer tucked under the covers. "I didn't think you cared about Sam or Dean at all, so why were you so nervous tonight?"
"They're important to you." Lucifer says, still slurring just a bit. "And you're important to me." He sits up, sliding his hand behind Cas' neck and sloppily pressing his lips to Cas' cheek before pulling back. "I wanted it to go well for you."
"Why?" Cas asks quietly, his heart racing, and at Lucifer's puzzled look he continues. "You're… you were an archangel. I know I've helped you out a little, but you're not obligated to me at all. You know that, don't you?"
Lucifer huffs, and it might be laughter or frustration or both. He drops back onto the pillows.
"Cas, I'm not an angel anymore, and neither are you. But you're my best friend, and you've made being human..." He trails off and turns toward the wall, suddenly seeming to realize how much he's giving away. "You've made being human marginally less terrible. I suspect it's your cooking."
Now it's Cas' turn to laugh, and he leans down to press a kiss on Lucifer's forehead, enjoying Lucifer's pleased hum.
"Good night, Luc," he whispers, rising from the bed and shutting off the light before he makes his way to his own room.
---
"Seriously, Castiel? You're bringing me here again?" Lucifer squints up at the hamburger-shaped sign. "The place is called Burger Heaven, for goodness' sake. It's the worst kind of irony."
"I thought maybe over the past year you'd become just slightly more reasonable, but maybe I was mistaken." Cas folds his arms in annoyance. "I used to come here all the time when I was on my own. It was my favorite restaurant, and I never get to eat here anymore." If asked, Cas would deny pouting, but the way Lucifer's face softens tells another story.
"Okay, fine," he grumbles, reaching out and grabbing Cas' hand. "But you're buying," he adds with a scowl.
"I had assumed so," Cas says with a tiny smile, "unless you published your mysterious bestseller while I was out buying groceries yesterday." He laughs when Lucifer glares at him, allowing himself to be tugged along by the hand into the restaurant. Over the course of lunch, Cas discovers that Lucifer actually really enjoys bacon cheeseburgers. He also finds out that Lucifer will deny that fact even as he's polishing off his last French fry.
He's a stubborn pain in the ass, but Cas is realizing that he's grown to love him, just a little.
---
"So are you ever going to tell me what it's about?" Cas asks from his spot on the floor. It's been several months since they last discussed it, but Lucifer had come out of his room that evening to announce that his book was finished.
They were halfway through their bottle of celebratory wine before Cas even thought to ask the question.
"It's my memoir," Lucifer tells him after a long pause. "Highly abridged, obviously, especially the earlier parts. It's been covered ad nauseum anyway, and I have no desire to be accused of plagiarizing Milton."
Cas considers this for a minute. It's hard to focus with the wine making his head buzz and his legs lying across Lucifer's lap. He glances up at where Lucifer is sitting back against the arm of the couch.
"You'll have to market it as fiction, you know."
"Yes, Cas, I'm aware of that," Lucifer says drily. "I've taken enough creative liberties to make it mostly fiction, anyway."
"Oh, really? Like what?"
"For one, I made myself a bit less pathetic as a human," he begins.
"You're not pathetic, Luc," Cas insists, but Lucifer just waves a hand at him.
"Stop interrupting. This is my story. Now, what else? Oh, yes, you're in there of course, but I changed your character a bit." At Cas' raised eyebrow, he goes on. "I made you a gorgeous, enigmatic blonde woman. In the book, I seduced you within the first two weeks."
Cas stares at him incredulously before narrowing his eyes.
"Is that so?" he asks, shifting to pull his legs out of Lucifer's lap. Lucifer grabs his ankles, halting his movement.
"It is," he says simply, rubbing absently at Cas' calf through the worn material of his jeans. "As I said, creative liberties. In reality, I'm not at all attracted to blondes. Or women, for that matter." He pauses, looking at Cas with an inscrutable expression.
Cas' breath catches in his throat, and he sits up. This time Lucifer lets his legs go. Time seems to slow down for a moment as Cas thinks of all of the ways this could go wrong. He might be misreading the signs, and even if he isn't, what's to say that Lucifer is being serious? Anyway, a romantic relationship between the two of them would only further complicate an already unorthodox situation.
"Cas." He jolts, not sure when Lucifer got so close. "You're thinking too much," he scolds, and then he presses their mouths together. Cas gasps in surprise, and Lucifer smiles against his lips before pressing in closer.
They kiss for a few long minutes before Lucifer pulls away and lies back onto the floor, tugging Cas down against his chest.
"In the book I had a dog, too," he says quietly, nuzzling into Cas' hair. "A really ferocious thing with behavioral issues."
"Creative liberties," Cas responds. "We can get a cat."
He pretends not to notice the way Lucifer grins against him and squeezes him just a bit more tightly.
"I suppose that would be all right, too," Lucifer agrees in a long-suffering tone. "Only because it's for you, Cas."
Cas hides his smile in Lucifer's shirt and slides a leg in between the other man's. It may be unorthodox, complicated, and utterly unexpected, but he's starting to realize that might not be a bad thing. Not at all.
---
Castiel knows his mouth is hanging open, but it's not his fault. Lucifer has never really been the type for grand, romantic gestures, so he hadn't expected this one at all.
To C, it reads, for showing me how to live this life, and for making it one worth living.
He snaps the book shut, the paper bow still stuck on the cover, and drops it back on the coffee table where he'd found it. He wastes no time in striding back the hallway, where he finds Lucifer standing at the foot of his bed, frozen in the middle of folding a towel.
"Now, Cas, there's no way you read the whole thing already," he says, smirking.
"I've read enough for now," Cas growls, and Lucifer's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Cas yanks the towel out of his hands and tosses it to the floor before pushing Lucifer back onto the pile of clean laundry. He takes a moment to enjoy the look of complete surprise on Lucifer's face, and then he follows him down and claims his mouth.
---
A while later, when they're curled together under the covers, Lucifer takes in the laundry scattered across the floor and presses a kiss into Cas' messy hair.
"You're going to have to help me clean that up, you know," he murmurs. Cas just snuffles and burrows deeper under the blanket. "Faker," Lucifer accuses quietly, but he pulls Cas in closer and shuts his eyes, too.
Author: discreetmath
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Castiel/Lucifer
Spoilers: General season 5. Goes AU during 5x22.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 6100.
Summary: When Lucifer chooses to let Sam go and back down from his fight with Michael, God returns him to Earth as a human. Castiel takes him in, and he does his best to help Lucifer adjust to a life without his grace. Lucifer doesn't always make it easy on him.
A/N: Written for the spn-reversebang for the wonderful art by chibifukurou. Original prompt is here. Enormous thanks to Chibi for her fantastic art, which was even better than I could have hoped for. Please be sure to check it out and let her know!
Disclaimer: These people do not belong to me, and this is all fiction.
Link to Art Masterpost: Here.
"Just try it. You'll like it, I know you will," Cas insists, taking a sip of lemonade.
"I sincerely doubt that. Ground-up cow meat stuffed inside of bread? It's barbaric."
Cas raises his eyebrows in disbelief.
"Really? You're calling this barbaric? It's a cheeseburger, and it's delicious." Cas sits back and folds his arms. "You know what's barbaric? Trying to wipe the human race off the face of the planet."
"I apologized for that," Lucifer mutters, picking at his fries. "And besides, look at that." He gestures toward Cas' burger. "Yours is pink inside. How can you stand it?"
Cas sighs in exasperation before flagging down the waitress and ordering a fruit salad.
Lucifer eats it sullenly, looking out the window and pointedly ignoring Cas. It's going to be a long day, he can tell.
---
Sam Winchester had proven stronger than expected. When he said "yes" to Lucifer, everyone expected him to be taken over, crushed under the weight of Lucifer's grace. The plan required him to maintain control, but nobody actually expected things to go according to plan. Not really. Sam's soul was bright, though, and sharing space with it had an irreversible effect on Lucifer. All those millennia of hatred, resentment, and bitterness were impossible to get past entirely, but Sam gave him new perspective.
He saw how deeply Sam loved Dean and how badly he wanted to save humanity from his own mistakes, and Lucifer suddenly felt doubt. It wasn't much, but it was enough to shake his convictions. When he backed down from his fight with Michael, to call his brother angry would have been a gross understatement; however, he'd already made his choice. He let Sam go, leaving his vessel without knowing what might happen to him. He couldn't enter Heaven, and he was no longer welcome in Hell. He wouldn't take another vessel, and as time went on he could feel his grace slipping away.
He woke up one sunny afternoon in the middle of Stull Cemetery, utterly human and alone in a body that looked inexplicably like Nick's. He didn't know how he'd gotten here after leaving Sam, nor did he realize that months had passed since the day he'd done it, so he'd started walking.
---
Cas stomps around the apartment, scowling as he picks up mug after half-empty mug. He's glad Lucifer has found something he likes (even if coffee has no real nutritional value), but this habit is annoying to say the very least. This place may not be much, but Cas likes to keep it orderly and tidy. If he feels the need to cope with being human by cleaning compulsively, then that's his own business. But he has no desire to spend his Saturday morning hunting down all of Lucifer's mugs from the previous day (six, in total) to carry them into the kitchen.
Lucifer chooses that moment to wander out of the second bedroom, hair sticking up at odd angles as he rubs a hand over his eyes. His vessel - his body, now - is scarred, like whoever put him there saw fit to leave reminders of the things he had done. As if he could really forget. Cas acknowledges that his human mind can't hold all of the memories he'd held as an angel, but the big things -- the bright, sharp, beautiful, painful ones -- are still with him.
He comes into the kitchen, bypassing Cas where he's washing dishes at the sink to grab a bowl from the cupboard and fill it with Cheerios. He's learned to buy the Honey Nut variety only, because Lucifer's as fickle as a child when it comes to food. Cas isn't really sure when his life became this surreal. He suspects it always has been, but that angels just aren't capable of noticing these things in quite the same way as humans.
"Would it be so difficult for you to bring your dishes to the sink?" Cas asks him, as politely as he can.
"Maybe I'm trying to teach you a lesson," Lucifer intones, raising an eyebrow at Cas. Cas just crosses his arms, a habit he's picked up since Lucifer's been living here, and waits. "Maybe," Lucifer continues, "you shouldn't be so concerned about keeping things tidy all the time." He punctuates his sentence by shaking Cheerios out of the box and onto the pristine kitchen floor.
Cas feels his eye twitch, but he's determined not to give Lucifer the satisfaction of knowing he's upset.
"I'm not that concerned," he grumbles, pushing past Lucifer on his way out of the kitchen. The sound of the cereal crunching under his feet grates on his nerves, but he doesn't slow down.
The pile of Cheerios stays where it is for three days, getting crushed into finer and finer pieces, until finally Cas walks into the kitchen and catches Lucifer with the broom and dustpan. The expression on his face is an interesting combination of practiced disinterest and annoyance at having been caught. Cas does his best not to appear smug, but after that incident, he does notice that Lucifer rinses his own dishes more often than not.
When you live with the former Prince of Hell, it's best to appreciate the small victories.
---
From what Cas understands, Lucifer's path from Stull Cemetery to Cas' second bedroom went something like this:
Stranded in Lawrence, he had clung to a memory from that brief time he'd spent sharing headspace with Sam. To her credit, Missouri Mosley didn't even bat an eye when Lucifer showed up on her doorstep. She'd been able to see right away that he wasn't an angel anymore, and she called Bobby Singer as soon as she could get to a phone. Bobby had been horrified, but when he realized the reality of the situation, he'd started laughing.
"Serves him right," he'd said. "Just kick him out. He ain't your problem and he sure as hell ain't mine."
Cas doesn't know the specifics, but the way Bobby had cringed when recounting the rest of that conversation had given him a fair idea. Bobby and the Winchesters all seem to take Missouri's wrath quite seriously.
So Bobby had asked Dean for his help, and Dean had, predictably, hung up the phone on him. Five minutes later, Sam had called Bobby back for details. Either he had been feeling more forgiving than Dean, or his curiosity was just that much greater. Regardless, when the news finally made its way to Cas in his apartment in Indiana, it had only taken a few brief moments of consideration before he offered his help.
At that point, Cas had been living on his own as a human for four months, with intermittent support from Sam and Dean. He was finally doing better, but it had been a rough adjustment. Lucifer was a lot of things, most of them terrible, but he was still Cas' brother. Cas didn't want him to have to do it on his own.
Dean had spouted curses, creative ones that Cas had never heard before, interspersed with "absolutely not!" and "are you out of your goddamn mind?" and every other protesting noise he could muster, but you don't live as long as Cas has without learning to be a little mulish when it's necessary. When Sam and Dean dropped Lucifer off at Cas' doorstep -- the thought of those 500 awkward miles in the Impala made him shudder -- he'd gotten a sneered "Hello, Castiel" and a bedroom door slammed in his face.
Cas imagines this is what raising a teenager must be like.
---
"I don't know why you're so determined to make me watch these films, Castiel. I promise you, I'm not interested." Lucifer is on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table, scowling belligerently.
"These are the first movies that I saw after I became completely human. The Winchesters said it was important to watch them, and they're really quite good. Just give them a chance." He puts the first DVD into the player and drops down next to Lucifer on the couch.
"I'm comfortable, and I'm not moving just because you can't take no for an answer," Lucifer huffs. Cas rolls his eyes and presses play. By the time Luke finds the message Leia left with R2-D2, Lucifer has forgotten to look disinterested. Cas is very careful not to let on that he's noticed.
When, two nights later, Lucifer's eyes are shiny at the end of Return of the Jedi, Cas gets up to grab himself another root beer out of the fridge. He stalls in the kitchen for a few minutes before returning to the couch. Lucifer seems to have recovered, and he rolls his eyes.
"They were all right, Cas, but I don't really see what all of the fuss is about. The special effects were terrible, and there's no way the Ewoks could have possibly defeated the Stormtroopers. They were glorified teddy bears, at best." Cas nods and does his best to hold back a smile.
After they watch the prequels the following weekend, Lucifer refuses to speak to him for two days.
---
The irony of this, of Castiel teaching another fallen angel how to be human, doesn't escape him. He likes to think that Dean would point it out, would make light of it, but Dean hasn't really visited since Cas volunteered to take Lucifer in. Given the circumstances, he can't exactly begrudge Dean his absence.
So far Cas has taught Lucifer how to shower, how to floss, and how to use his cell phone. There haven't been any driving lessons, thank goodness, since Cas lives within walking distance of his job at the library and only owns a bike. Lucifer had balked at the idea of learning to ride a bicycle, so that hadn't been an issue, either.
Somehow, Cas hadn't ever considered that he might have to deal with this. He feels a renewed sense of respect for what Sam and Dean must have gone through with him.
He's barely in the door after work when he sees Lucifer disappear back the hall, the bathroom door slamming shut a moment later.
"Oh, for the love of--" Cas toes off his shoes before going to see what's wrong. He's halfway through the living room when he sees a paperback book poking out from underneath the couch. He goes to pick it up and flushes with embarrassment.
Cas has shelves upon shelves of respectable books in the apartment, so naturally Lucifer would have snooped around until he found Cas' trashiest gay erotica.
He drops his head, defeated, because he's pretty sure he can guess why Lucifer has locked himself in the bathroom. He walks back the hall and taps on the door.
"Luc? You all right in there?"
"I'm fine," comes the muffled reply. "Go away and stop bothering me."
"Lucifer," he tries again, his voice soothing. "It's not a big deal. It freaked me out the first time, too, but it's totally normal." He's going out on a limb here, but he doesn't think it's a very long one.
Lucifer is silent for a minute.
"How do I make it stop?" he asks in a small voice.
"You just have to, you know. Take care of it." Cas is blushing now, wanting nothing less than to have to explain this in any greater detail.
"I don't know what to do," Lucifer complains, his voice creeping up into a whine. "It's really uncomfortable."
"Just," Cas pinches the bridge of his nose. "Do whatever feels good. Try different things until you find something you like. There's no right or wrong way to do it, I swear."
Lucifer is quiet for another long minute, and then he makes a noise that Cas has no desire to interpret.
"Castiel, you can go away now." Not needing to be told twice, Cas hurries back out to the kitchen to get started on dinner.
Lucifer comes out fifteen minutes later, looking sheepish.
"We need new guest towels," he mumbles, fixing himself a plate from the stove.
"You really need to learn to do laundry," Cas complains, and that's the last they speak of it.
---
Cas doesn't know why he ever thought this was a good idea.
Lucifer gets bored sitting around the apartment all day - Cas gets that, he does - but he turns up his nose at the idea of getting a job, instead insisting upon accompanying Cas to work now and then. This might not be the worst thing, but it's taken Cas weeks just to get Lucifer to respect the unwritten rule of keeping a low volume in the library.
Now he just drives Cas up a wall quietly.
"You have to admit, Cas. If this is the sort of drivel that young humans are reading, the future of humanity is a bleak one." He's found a copy of what looks to be a Gossip Girl novel and he's waving it around in Cas' face. "And do you have any idea how many romance books about vampires I saw back there? It's baffling, Castiel. Baffling."
Cas sighs in exasperation. It's not that he doesn't agree, because in the few short months he's been working at the library he's developed a number of opinions on this very subject. He's just busy logging books into the system, and he could really do with a few minutes of peace.
"I happen to agree," he says reluctantly, not in the mood for the smug look Lucifer fixes on him. "But not everybody reads those books. There are many that are of a much higher quality, and I think you're just choosing to bypass them in favor of the ones that will make your point."
Lucifer's smirk is quickly replaced with a petulant glare.
"I highly doubt that," he sniffs.
Ten minutes later, Cas sits him down in an overstuffed armchair with The Fellowship of the Ring. Three hours after that, Cas' shift is over and he has to drag Lucifer to the counter to check the book out before they go home. Now it's his turn to look smug, but he decides to be the bigger person and keeps his face carefully blank.
---
It's mid-morning when Cas hears the door to Lucifer's bedroom open. He curses silently, knowing he'll never get any rest now. He coughs, trying to keep it quiet so as not to draw attention to himself, but Lucifer hears him anyway.
"Castiel, is that you? Shouldn't you be at work already?" Lucifer flips on the light in the living room, and Cas has to squint against the harshness of it, rolling over to bury his face in the back of the couch. "Castiel, are you all right?" That question warrants a glance back over Cas' shoulder at Lucifer, who appears a bit concerned for Cas' well-being.
Wonders never cease.
"No," Cas scrapes out through his rough throat. "I think I'm dying." He knows he's being unnecessarily dramatic, but he feels terrible. The flash of distress across Lucifer's face makes him feel guilty, and he flaps a hand dismissively. "I'll be fine. It's just a cold, I think. I've had one before."
Lucifer shifts from foot to foot, obviously not convinced. He nods once, clearly making up his mind about something, and sits down at the end of the couch, forcing Cas to yank his legs out of the way.
"What's it like?" he asks, his tone an odd mix between curiosity and worry.
"It varies for everyone, I think. My head is congested, and I feel like I can't breathe properly. My throat hurts. I'm cold, too, which didn't happen last time." He frowns. "It's very unpleasant. My whole body aches. I wouldn't recommend it," he adds, his attempt at a joke thwarted by another coughing fit, his lungs burning as he folds in on himself.
He feels the couch shift, and when he looks up, Lucifer is gone. Cas sighs, wincing at the painful scratchiness in his throat. He manages to be positive about his humanity most of the time, and he likes to think he's adjusted quite well. But at times like this, he longs for the days when his grace prevented him from illness and injury. He's just resigned himself to lying on the couch and staring at the ceiling when Lucifer reappears, hovering over him with an unreadable expression.
"Here," he says simply, draping the blanket from his bed across Cas and tucking it around his feet. He looks thoughtful for a moment, and then he walks over to the television and grabs the remote control, setting it within easy reach. "I'll be back soon. Don't die, Castiel."
Now I'm hallucinating, Cas thinks. This can't possibly be good.
---
Cas wakes to the sound of the front door clicking shut. He twists around to peer over the back of the couch and sees Lucifer toeing off his shoes, laden down with plastic bags. He glances up and sees Cas watching him.
"The employee at the CVS store said that your symptoms are indicative of influenza, not a cold." Cas shuts his eyes and groans, flopping back down onto the couch as Lucifer continues. "She recommended a number of medications to me, and she said you should rest and drink a lot of liquids."
"I'm fine, I'll get something soon," Cas mutters. He feels a bit lost already, and Lucifer acting so strangely isn't helping that situation.
"Just stay there," Lucifer tells him, rolling his eyes.
About twenty minutes later, Lucifer is on the couch again, and Cas is sitting up to take a handful of Tylenol and decongestants. The coffee table is laden down with cough drops, tissues, bottled water, a steaming mug of tea, and a bowl of what looks like chicken and rice soup.
He works his way through it all, fighting his desire to just curl up and die. When he finishes the soup he glances at Lucifer just in time to see a pleased smile before he can cover it up.
When he's done, Lucifer guides Cas down to lie with his head in his lap and tugs the blanket up over him. Cas shoots him a questioning look, but Lucifer just shrugs.
"If you die from the flu, I might have to get a job."
"It hardly bears thinking about," Cas mumbles, pleased to note that his throat feels a bit better.
As he drifts off to sleep, Lucifer stroking his hair and a re-run of Friends droning on in the background, he decides that maybe hallucinations aren't the worst thing.
---
Six days later, in a fever-induced delirium, Lucifer threatens to smite Cas for bringing human illness upon him. Cas just smiles indulgently and lays a cold compress across his forehead.
"I've changed my mind," Lucifer sighs in relief. "You're my favorite."
---
Lucifer has been human for almost ten months when Cas tells him that he needs to start looking for employment. They're lying on Lucifer's bed, watching How to Train Your Dragon again, and no, Cas is not going to think about how strange that is.
"I don't care what it is, and I'm not worried about how much money you make, but it's part of being human," Cas insists. "You can't just hang around here or at the library all the time." This is far from the first time they've had this conversation, but Lucifer's ideas always seem to be deliberately implausible. So far, the highlights have been city councilman, famous actor, and high-society cat groomer.
Cas doesn't actually know if that last one was a joke. Lucifer does have quite an affinity for cats, even if he pretends to hate them.
"Maybe I could be a literary critic," Lucifer suggests, gesturing at the ever-growing collection of books in his room.
"I don't think that's the sort of thing you can just decide to do, Luc. You need credentials, or experience, or something like that." Cas is trying very hard not to sound annoyed, because he can never be entirely sure when Lucifer is being difficult on purpose.
"It can't be that hard, Cas! You should see some of the terrible things that get published, and people fall all over themselves to praise them. I wouldn't sugarcoat things, you know that."
"If that's the case, why bother reviewing books? If it's so easy to get one published, you should just write your own." Cas is being flippant, already regretting starting this conversation up again, and it takes him a minute to notice that Lucifer has gone silent beside him. He turns his head to see Lucifer nodding thoughtfully.
"You know what? That's exactly what I'm going to do. Just you wait, Castiel. I'm going to write a bestseller."
Cas turns back to the television and groans, knowing he's only got himself to blame. There's no way to tell how long Lucifer will be able to avoid getting a job now, under the guise of working on his novel.
"You'd better include me in the dedication," he grumbles, resigned.
"Who else?" Lucifer asks. "You're the only person I know. Simple process of elimination."
Cas glances over to see Lucifer smiling at him warmly. He does a quick double take, and now Lucifer is wearing his usual bored expression, focused on the television. He shakes his head and goes back to watching the movie.
---
Lucifer is fidgeting. This fact, on its own, has Cas sufficiently alarmed.
Lucifer has become increasingly comfortable in his skin over the past year, adapting to humanity in all the little ways that matter, and Cas has never seen him so… twitchy. He can't even ignore it, because the jiggling of his leg and his constant shifting around are disturbing the entire couch. Sam and Dean are coming by this evening for dinner, but he finds it hard to imagine that might be why. Cas expected annoyance, or antagonism, or really anything but the anxiety that's apparent in Lucifer's movements.
"Luc, are you okay? I can call them and tell them to come another time." Cas would rather not do that, honestly, since he hasn't seen the Winchesters since Lucifer has been staying with him. He's talked to them on the phone on occasion -- usually when they've had need of his knowledge -- but neither one of them were really comfortable with sharing space with Lucifer.
He understands, he really does, but he misses them. Getting them to agree to come tonight was an exercise in finesse that, frankly, Cas had found rather exhausting.
"What are you talking about, Castiel?" Lucifer asks with a roll of his eyes. "I'm certainly not afraid of the Winchesters."
"I didn't say you were, it's just…" Cas sees the way Lucifer tenses, and he thinks better of completing that thought. "I'm nervous," he lies. "I haven't seen them in a while, and they were my best friends, once. I've changed since then, and I don't know how they'll see me now that I'm not an angel anymore." That's actually pretty close to being true, though Cas has taken pains not to give it that much thought.
Lucifer narrows his eyes, sufficiently distracted.
"If they're really your friends, then they'll like you as you are, no matter what." He puts his hand on Cas' knee, just a bit uncertainly, and leans forward to catch his eye. "Besides, I'm sure I have far more discerning tastes than those apes, and I like you quite a bit."
Cas flushes, as much from the touch of Lucifer's hand as from his words.
"Just try not to call them apes to their faces, Luc," he mutters, laying his hand over Lucifer's and squeezing gently. They stay like that, both pretending to watch the television, until it's time to start cooking.
---
Dinner is an awkward affair, but it could easily have been worse. Cas' foresight in baking a pie goes a long way toward soothing Dean's animosity.
Sam does his best to keep the conversation going, while Dean alternates between scowling at Lucifer and shooting concerned glances at Cas, apparently trying to figure out whether he's being treated properly. Based on what he's seen on television and in films, it's a bit like introducing a new boyfriend to one's father. Cas tries to swallow the slightly hysterical laugh that bubbles up at that thought, but the three pairs of eyes that focus on him immediately tell him he's failed. Sam and Dean look torn between worry and confusion, but Lucifer just looks quietly amused.
It's the first real facial expression Lucifer's had since the Winchesters got here, and he's glad to see it. He stands up and lays a hand on Lucifer's shoulder before turning his attention to Sam and Dean.
"Would anyone like another beer?" He receives two nods and turns to retrieve them from the fridge.
"Get me one too, Cas." He turns around and frowns at Lucifer, who just rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically. "Sorry. Get me one please."
That's not why he was frowning -- Lucifer is rarely polite, and he's gotten rather used to it -- but he chooses not to question it. He grabs three beers and brings them back to the table. Lucifer downs his with alarming speed before getting up and getting another one. Cas frowns again. This is unlikely to end well.
---
Lucifer only makes it through three beers before throwing in the towel. By the time they move into the living room, he isn't capable of much more than leaning heavily on Cas and giggling at Sam's jokes, and even at a few of Dean's. He also laughs at a few things that aren't jokes, but Cas doesn't mind. He doesn't get to hear the sound all that much. Cas supposes he should have taught Lucifer about responsible alcohol consumption sooner, but he can't be expected to think of everything.
The upside is that Dean's assessment of Lucifer has been upgraded from "insidious mortal enemy" to "Cas' weird, grumpy roommate." That much is clear in his amused glances at Cas once Lucifer starts talking about the novel he's working on. He refuses to share any details, only insisting that it contains no romanticized werewolves or vampires.
"Have you read those Twilight books, Sam? Absolute trash," he declares, and Sam is clearly fighting not to lose his composure entirely. "Of course," Lucifer continues, "I suspect that Castiel here secretly loves them. He pretends to be a discerning reader, but you should see some of the 'literature' he keeps around the house." He throws Cas an exaggerated wink, and Cas just gapes at him for a moment before recovering.
"I'm not the one who insisted on reading the entire series 'just to be thorough,'" Cas retorts, trying to calm his blush. He hears a snicker and looks up to see Sam and Dean exchanging a disbelieving look.
"It's probably about time for us to get going," Sam says, sounding almost reluctant. "I had… well. I actually had a good time."
"Don't sound so surprised," Lucifer mumbles from where he's starting to doze off on Cas' shoulder.
"We'll come back and visit again soon," Dean promises, choosing to ignore Lucifer for the moment. He looks carefully at Cas, making sure to catch his eye before smiling. It's small but genuine, and he follows it with a deliberate nod. Cas sighs with relief before easing Lucifer off of him and down onto the couch. He gets up to show Sam and Dean out, thanking them and letting them know that they're welcome any time.
Sam claps a hand on his shoulder before heading out the door, and Dean nudges him with his elbow.
"Let me know if he gives you any problems, okay?" he says, but it's clear he's feeling reassured after spending the evening with Cas and Lucifer.
"Sure thing, Dad," Cas replies easily, and he savors Dean's surprised laugh.
He knows he's been managing just fine as a human, but it's nice to see that fact reflected in the eyes of his friends. He gives Dean one last smile before heading back inside and shutting the door. Cas takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the ordeal of putting Lucifer to bed.
---
"I don't understand," Cas admits once he's gotten Lucifer tucked under the covers. "I didn't think you cared about Sam or Dean at all, so why were you so nervous tonight?"
"They're important to you." Lucifer says, still slurring just a bit. "And you're important to me." He sits up, sliding his hand behind Cas' neck and sloppily pressing his lips to Cas' cheek before pulling back. "I wanted it to go well for you."
"Why?" Cas asks quietly, his heart racing, and at Lucifer's puzzled look he continues. "You're… you were an archangel. I know I've helped you out a little, but you're not obligated to me at all. You know that, don't you?"
Lucifer huffs, and it might be laughter or frustration or both. He drops back onto the pillows.
"Cas, I'm not an angel anymore, and neither are you. But you're my best friend, and you've made being human..." He trails off and turns toward the wall, suddenly seeming to realize how much he's giving away. "You've made being human marginally less terrible. I suspect it's your cooking."
Now it's Cas' turn to laugh, and he leans down to press a kiss on Lucifer's forehead, enjoying Lucifer's pleased hum.
"Good night, Luc," he whispers, rising from the bed and shutting off the light before he makes his way to his own room.
---
"Seriously, Castiel? You're bringing me here again?" Lucifer squints up at the hamburger-shaped sign. "The place is called Burger Heaven, for goodness' sake. It's the worst kind of irony."
"I thought maybe over the past year you'd become just slightly more reasonable, but maybe I was mistaken." Cas folds his arms in annoyance. "I used to come here all the time when I was on my own. It was my favorite restaurant, and I never get to eat here anymore." If asked, Cas would deny pouting, but the way Lucifer's face softens tells another story.
"Okay, fine," he grumbles, reaching out and grabbing Cas' hand. "But you're buying," he adds with a scowl.
"I had assumed so," Cas says with a tiny smile, "unless you published your mysterious bestseller while I was out buying groceries yesterday." He laughs when Lucifer glares at him, allowing himself to be tugged along by the hand into the restaurant. Over the course of lunch, Cas discovers that Lucifer actually really enjoys bacon cheeseburgers. He also finds out that Lucifer will deny that fact even as he's polishing off his last French fry.
He's a stubborn pain in the ass, but Cas is realizing that he's grown to love him, just a little.
---
"So are you ever going to tell me what it's about?" Cas asks from his spot on the floor. It's been several months since they last discussed it, but Lucifer had come out of his room that evening to announce that his book was finished.
They were halfway through their bottle of celebratory wine before Cas even thought to ask the question.
"It's my memoir," Lucifer tells him after a long pause. "Highly abridged, obviously, especially the earlier parts. It's been covered ad nauseum anyway, and I have no desire to be accused of plagiarizing Milton."
Cas considers this for a minute. It's hard to focus with the wine making his head buzz and his legs lying across Lucifer's lap. He glances up at where Lucifer is sitting back against the arm of the couch.
"You'll have to market it as fiction, you know."
"Yes, Cas, I'm aware of that," Lucifer says drily. "I've taken enough creative liberties to make it mostly fiction, anyway."
"Oh, really? Like what?"
"For one, I made myself a bit less pathetic as a human," he begins.
"You're not pathetic, Luc," Cas insists, but Lucifer just waves a hand at him.
"Stop interrupting. This is my story. Now, what else? Oh, yes, you're in there of course, but I changed your character a bit." At Cas' raised eyebrow, he goes on. "I made you a gorgeous, enigmatic blonde woman. In the book, I seduced you within the first two weeks."
Cas stares at him incredulously before narrowing his eyes.
"Is that so?" he asks, shifting to pull his legs out of Lucifer's lap. Lucifer grabs his ankles, halting his movement.
"It is," he says simply, rubbing absently at Cas' calf through the worn material of his jeans. "As I said, creative liberties. In reality, I'm not at all attracted to blondes. Or women, for that matter." He pauses, looking at Cas with an inscrutable expression.
Cas' breath catches in his throat, and he sits up. This time Lucifer lets his legs go. Time seems to slow down for a moment as Cas thinks of all of the ways this could go wrong. He might be misreading the signs, and even if he isn't, what's to say that Lucifer is being serious? Anyway, a romantic relationship between the two of them would only further complicate an already unorthodox situation.
"Cas." He jolts, not sure when Lucifer got so close. "You're thinking too much," he scolds, and then he presses their mouths together. Cas gasps in surprise, and Lucifer smiles against his lips before pressing in closer.
They kiss for a few long minutes before Lucifer pulls away and lies back onto the floor, tugging Cas down against his chest.
"In the book I had a dog, too," he says quietly, nuzzling into Cas' hair. "A really ferocious thing with behavioral issues."
"Creative liberties," Cas responds. "We can get a cat."
He pretends not to notice the way Lucifer grins against him and squeezes him just a bit more tightly.
"I suppose that would be all right, too," Lucifer agrees in a long-suffering tone. "Only because it's for you, Cas."
Cas hides his smile in Lucifer's shirt and slides a leg in between the other man's. It may be unorthodox, complicated, and utterly unexpected, but he's starting to realize that might not be a bad thing. Not at all.
---
Castiel knows his mouth is hanging open, but it's not his fault. Lucifer has never really been the type for grand, romantic gestures, so he hadn't expected this one at all.
To C, it reads, for showing me how to live this life, and for making it one worth living.
He snaps the book shut, the paper bow still stuck on the cover, and drops it back on the coffee table where he'd found it. He wastes no time in striding back the hallway, where he finds Lucifer standing at the foot of his bed, frozen in the middle of folding a towel.
"Now, Cas, there's no way you read the whole thing already," he says, smirking.
"I've read enough for now," Cas growls, and Lucifer's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Cas yanks the towel out of his hands and tosses it to the floor before pushing Lucifer back onto the pile of clean laundry. He takes a moment to enjoy the look of complete surprise on Lucifer's face, and then he follows him down and claims his mouth.
---
A while later, when they're curled together under the covers, Lucifer takes in the laundry scattered across the floor and presses a kiss into Cas' messy hair.
"You're going to have to help me clean that up, you know," he murmurs. Cas just snuffles and burrows deeper under the blanket. "Faker," Lucifer accuses quietly, but he pulls Cas in closer and shuts his eyes, too.