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It was amazing how one tiny little piece of jewelry could cause so much pain. It was just a little gold band, simple with nothing to adorn it. Harmless, really, except somehow there was nothing harmless about it. In the several millennia they’d been married, Lucifer and Lilith hadn't even been wearing rings all that long. They started wearing them some 5,000 years ago. They had been a popular thing in Egypt before spreading to the rest of the world, and Lucifer loved gifting things like that to his Lilli.
Things had been better between them, then. When he'd presented her with her own little gold band and shown off his matching one, she'd been thrilled. A beautiful little symbol of their love, a sign of Lucifer's complete and utter devotion to her. Lilith liked to be reminded of things like that. It had been impossible to know then what would happen to them, how things would fall apart. How could he have known then that only 5,000 years later, he'd been staring at the mated pair as he was now, one still a fixture on his hand, and the other sitting in a little black box on a velvet cushion, looking lifeless and devoid of the love it used to hold?
He hadn't really thought of his ring’s mate since it was handed back to him. The exchange had been so horribly gut-wrenching that Lucifer had promptly placed it in its little box and hidden it away from himself. Easier to ignore the sad little thing than to accept that his marriage ended. He'd kept wearing his, of course. At first, out of hope. Hope that she would take hers back someday, hope that someday that poor, sad thing would cease to look so fucking sad. Over time the hope had left, but he'd still been unable to bring himself to remove his.
It was a reminder. A reminder of how he'd failed. Failed her. Failed Charlie. Failed Heaven. Failed his father. Failed humanity. A solid gold symbol of the failure that was Lucifer Morningstar. Punishment for all his faults, so that he would never forget just how low a man could sink. Some days he would sit for hours just staring at it, lost in memories as he slipped deeper and deeper into a depression he never thought he'd be able to claw his way out of.
Then he met the Radio Demon. Pompous, annoyingly vain, and incredibly infuriating. His stupid smile. His smug fucking attitude. His incredibly large, if difficult to find, heart. He'd been the bane of Lucifer's existence from the moment they met, and yet somehow it had slowly morphed into something else. Something more pleasant. They had grown close, and as they grew closer, the less Lucifer thought about his ring. He didn't even realize it might be problematic, that Alastor might start to think about the thing he'd forgotten. Yet here he was, hours post-massive argument, staring at the offensive little piece of metal on his hand for the first time in ages.
The argument hadn't been about the ring at all to start. Lucifer honestly couldn't remember what they were fighting about. What he did remember was the venom in Alastor's voice, the hurt in his eyes, and the small sad whine of radio feedback that accompanied the words.
“I'll never mean as much to you as her,” he'd said, spitting the word out like it was something disgusting. “You make that clear to me every single time that accursed ring touches my skin.”
The words had been a slap in the face, and one he didn't realize he needed. He loved the Radio Demon, he truly did. He loved him with every fiber of himself, so much more than he'd expected. He hadn't vocalized that to Alastor, hadn't given words to the feeling, but then the man surprised him. He said it first. Lucifer scrunched his face up, realizing now that he remembered what they were fighting about.
He'd hesitated. He had been so shocked by Alastor's words, soft, almost inaudible, but clearly meant for him to hear. Lying in his bed—their bed—not even post-coital. They were just cuddling, and Alastor said it into the silence of the room. He hadn't even used his accent or radio filter. It was all authentic Alastor—no show, just beautifully soft Creole. The words danced around his head, and despite his previous hesitation, despite not being able to respond in the moment, the sound of them made his heart ache.
He hated himself for that hesitation, hated that his first instinct had been to shy away from it. He'd never said those words to anyone but Lilith and Charlie, and only one had ever heard them in the way he felt now about Alastor. His mind panicked at the idea of saying them out loud. It felt like a betrayal, despite how much she'd betrayed him. He'd fallen for her. He'd done what he had for Eve, not for her or for humanity, but for Lilith. If he loved Alastor, if he said it aloud, he felt he was betraying everything that had landed him here.
He'd tried to explain that to Alastor when the demon had frozen up on him, tried desperately to get him to understand. As he so frequently did though, he managed to jumble his thoughts and say all the wrong things. Alastor had every right to be upset and hurt. Lucifer didn't blame him in the slightest. He hated himself for it, and wouldn't have blamed Alastor if he decided to hate him, too.
Lucifer felt anger well inside him and let out a roar of frustration, swiping everything on the desk in front of him to the floor, everything but Lilith's ring, which had been the one thing he'd been aiming for. He picked the little black box up in his rage and hucked it across the room. It wasn't enough, it didn't help. He ripped the ring from his finger and hucked it too, feeling the weight of it leave him both physically and emotionally. He stared at where it landed, breath coming in heavy gasps.
“Mon ange?”
Alastor's voice was soft, gentle in a way that snapped Lucifer's mind from its seething. He turned to him slowly, catching sight of himself in the mirror across the room. His wings were expanded out behind him, and his tail whipped angrily from side to side without any input from him. His horns rose from his head, a stark contrast to his golden hair. His eyes shone crimson, their angelic hue gone and replaced entirely with the demon he'd become. Those eyes landed on Alastor, and he felt a twinge in his heart at the sight of him.
He was, as always, the picture of perfection. All harsh angles and hard lines, except somehow less than usual. His signature smile was nowhere to be found. Currently, it was replaced by a concerned frown. His eyes were soft, and his ears drooped low onto his head. He was staring at Lucifer with a weird mixture of awe and fear that only made Lucifer feel worse for both his outburst, and the argument.
“Fuck me,” he groaned, turning away from him and running his hands through his hair, “just add this to one more fucking thing I've fucked up today.”
He walked over to the bed and sank down onto it, his head falling into his hands as he slouched over. He felt the bed dip down next to him and the familiar sound of static washed over him. Alastor placed his arm around his waist, and Lucifer leaned into him instinctually.
“Mon ange,” Alastor said again tenderly, “are you alright?”
“You're asking me that?” Lucifer asked, looking up at him incredulously, “after this morning? You are asking me if I'm ok?”
“Of course I am,” Alastor replied, running a gentle hand through the hair that had fallen into his face. “Argument or no, it doesn't change how I feel about you. I'm not so fickle as to stop loving you over that.”
“I don't deserve you,” Lucifer said, fighting back tears. “The things I said this morning, that stupid fucking ring—I wouldn't blame you if you chose to leave.”
Alastor sighed and removed his arm from Lucifer, who flinched at the loss of him. He supposed it made sense. He was, after all, known for being rather convincing. He choked back a ragged breath, trying to keep himself from going into hysterics. Alastor stood up from the bed and Lucifer's eyes followed him. He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and knelt down in front of the angel.
“That's quite enough, mon ange,” he said gently, wiping tears from Lucifer's eyes, “you beautiful, stupid angel.”
Lucifer stared at him, unsure what to make of this.
“Do you love me?” Alastor asked, looking him steadily in the eyes.
“Of course I do!” Lucifer insisted, feeling panic rise in his chest. “I love you, Alastor. God I'm so stupid. I should have told you this morning. I should have—”
Alastor placed a hand over his mouth to stop him, shaking his head.
“I know you do,” he said quietly as he moved to place both hands on either side of his face. He placed a gentle kiss on Lucifer's forehead. “I said horrible things to you this morning.”
“I deserved them.”
“No, you did not, and I'll hear none of your insistence to the contrary,” Alastor chided. “I was insecure, and as someone who doesn't allow his insecurities to show often, I reacted on instinct rather than tact. I should have known better. I know you so well now. I knew what buttons to push to hurt you, and I was cruel in my use of them.”
“Alastor, I—” he started, but Alastor shook his head and shushed him.
“I love you, Lucifer,” Alastor said tenderly. “I'm still learning how this all works. You were in love with Lilith for longer than my existence. It's selfish of me to expect that to go away any time soon.”
“I'm sorry.”
“For what? Loving her?” Alastor questioned, his head tilting adorably in a way that always made Lucifer's heart ache with affection. “Never be sorry for that. I may not like her much, I may despise what she has done to you, but I am self aware enough to know that without the love you had for her, I wouldn't be here, I wouldn't have you.”
Alastor reached down and fiddled with something in his pocket, but Lucifer couldn't take his eyes from his face. Every ounce of him loved this man, this sinner. He'd spent most of his life despising his kind, and yet here he was, so completely lost in him that he didn't know which way was up. Lilith had been different from this. She was all he'd ever known aside from his family. She'd been the infancy of humanity, naive and young. He'd taught her how to be, how to do. He'd molded her into what she was back then.
Alastor was different. He had life experience. He'd grown and been shaped by something other than the hands of an angel. He'd fallen for his own actions that he'd chosen for himself, not the actions of someone who should have known better. Alastor chose to love him in a way Lilith never could have. He saw him for all that he was, and chose him anyway. One of the greatest results to come to him from the decisions he regretted most.
Alastor smiled at him, soft and tender in a way he only reserved for Lucifer.
“Ah, there you are again, mon petit ange,” he said affectionately, “not that I mind your more devilish side, but I was a bit worried.”
Lucifer gave him a half-hearted chuckle, realizing he must have shifted back to normal. “I'm not that small,” he insisted.
Alastor shook his head at him and kissed him softly.
“I did a lot of thinking today,” the demon said, shifting uncomfortably. “I am more bothered by that ring than I realized.”
“I know,” Lucifer said gently, his now ring-free hand going to Alastor's hair, carding through it until he found the base of one of his ears. He rubbed soothing circles against it and Alastor leaned into it, closing his eyes at the touch. “I should have taken it off long before now, but it's off now, and I promise it won't be going back on.”
“I'd like to suggest something,” Alastor said, sounding almost nervous, “I understand if you don't want to. I won't be upset if you say no. I just want…”
Alastor hesitated, always terribly bad at saying what exactly he wanted from the angel. Lucifer leaned in and gave him an encouraging kiss.
“What do you want, Duckie?”
“I want Hell to know you're mine,” he said quietly. “It doesn't have to be something so formal as marriage, but I want something that shows it just the same.”
“I'd like that,” Lucifer said with a soft smile.
Alastor’s smile widened, and he finally removed what he'd been fiddling with in his pocket and held it up for Lucifer to see. In his hand were two rings, each unique but complementary to each other. The larger of the two was a white snake wrapping tightly around itself, two little red stones for its eyes that sparkled in the light. The other smaller one, clearly intended for Lucifer, was shiny black, ornately shaped like Alastor's antlers. Lucifer picked it up and examined it, letting the light catch the interesting angles that made it sparkle as it moved against the light.
“Alastor, these are beautiful,” he said in awe. “Where did you get them?”
“I may have been thinking about this longer than just today,” the demon replied almost sheepishly. “I've had them for some weeks, but I didn't know how to ask you to take your wedding band off.”
Lucifer took hold of the lapels of Alastor's coat and pulled him in for a hard kiss which the other man enthusiastically returned, wrapping his arms tightly around the angel.
“God, I fucking love you,” Lucifer said breathlessly as they pulled apart.
“I love you too, Lucifer,” Alastor said, taking the ring back from Lucifer and sliding it onto his finger.
Lucifer marveled at it for a moment, the weight of it a comfortable change from that little golden reminder it replaced. He held out his hand for the other one and Alastor placed it in his palm. The angel gave it a soft little kiss before he placed it on Alastor's finger. Alastor beamed at him, and Lucifer felt his heart melt at the sight. That smile was all for him, and he knew at that moment that if he was given the chance, he could live in it forever.