#last time it was dia flirting with lu

[indiavolojones]

Diavolo glances at his employer for the night, corners of his mouth turning up in a lazy smile at the other's presence.

“You’re still here?” Lucifer asks, standing by the side of the grand piano with his own glass, looking out into the crowd, “Your set is over. I’m not going to pay you for an encore.” 

alternate summary: classy lounge owner lucifer flirts with pianist diavolo! hahaha, you thought dialuci hour was over? think again, baybeeee.

2kish words, G, dialuci, #swanky lounges are tres sexy, y’all.

this fic is served best with some soft jazz and idk, maybe imagine a sepia tone over everything?

-

As the final notes of his song fade, a hand sets a glass of amber colored liquor on the folded lid of the piano. 

(On a coaster, of course. The beautifully made and maintained grand piano is easily worth $80,000 and Diavolo is doing well in his field, but not that well.) 

The hand belongs to none other than Lucifer, infamous owner of The Fall, the swankiest lounge in town, and for the last two hours of Diavolo's set, his boss. Diavolo glances at his employer for the night, corners of his mouth turning up in a lazy smile at the other's presence. 

“You’re still here?” Lucifer asks, discreetly polishing an imagined scuff on the pristine surface of the piano, “Your set is over. I’m not going to pay you for an encore.” 

In a sharp suit befitting his status, Lucifer is always dressed to the nines when he’s at work. The man is devastating to look upon, cutting a striking image as he looks out into the crowd. Honestly, Diavolo doesn’t think he’s seen Lucifer in anything less than a sports jacket… 

But he’d like to. 

(Maybe a cardigan. Oh, he’d love that.) 

Diavolo hums a few notes from the song still ringing in his head, the soft melody tapped into the rim of the glass. 

“And yet you’re buying me drinks?” Diavolo grins, an ungodly amount of satisfaction on his face from the almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of Lucifer’s mouth. He’s not sure if it’s a frown or a smile, but it’s something. 

“If I’m getting a free show, I can probably afford to offer my musicians a drink or two." Lucifer says — dismissively, as if his standing near Diavolo is not a result of the unavoidable attraction between them, Lucifer drawn to Diavolo like Diavolo is drawn to him. Diavolo cocks a brow as Lucifer realizes his choice of phrasing.

“A free show –” Diavolo’s flirtatious tone is badly concealed as he speaks, interrupted by Lucifer's curt growl.

“Don’t.” 

Lucifer would be glaring at him, Diavolo is sure, if not for the casual bustle of the lounge’s patrons. In lieu of an answer that would likely get him kicked out, he raises the glass to his occasional employer, bringing the crystalline glass to his lips. 

The burn of the vapours numbing his mouth is familiar, almost like an old friend that still likes to roughhouse, but what really sticks out to Diavolo is the flavor. 

Diavolo’s not a whiskey connoisseur by any means, but he’s had enough of a variety of cheap and disgustingly expensive liquor in his life that he can tell immediately. Vanilla. Caramel. Dried fruit. Woody spice. A smoothness as he savors it in his mouth, licks the drops of it off his lips. Jack Daniel's tastes like sickly sweet maple syrup in comparison to the several drams of high quality liquor swirling around his glass. 

It's a damn good liquor, aged at least ten years, if his hunch is correct. Top shelf. Easily.

Diavolo glances down at it, something warm like the whiskey (but not quite the same) settling in his belly. 

Diavolo knows he shouldn't comment on it. He shouldn't tease Lucifer over a glass of what is likely a thirty dollar (at least!) glass of beautifully aged whiskey, because then Lucifer will abruptly stop as if he’s gotten his hand caught in the cookie jar. Lucifer is a successful business owner, he has the means to be generous like this if he so chooses… 

But that's just it. If he so chooses. 

Diavolo loves that he chose to do it. For Diavolo! He could shout that off the rooftops, he’s so damn elated. 

Lucifer isn’t the type to spoil his employees in such a way – or his family, honestly. Lucifer’s a tough love kinda guy, and Diavolo’s definitely about that. He has to focus on not letting his stupid heart work itself into overdrive with delight that Lucifer is spoiling him so, after months of toeing the line between amusing himself by riling up a hot guy and not getting fired by his most lucrative gig. 

The universe both helps out, and ruins it all, with the nearby distraction of someone lighting a cigarette, harsh smoke filtering into the air. 

The acrid smell of it makes Lucifer’s nose twitch with displeasure – ah right, he’s been in the process of trying to quit smoking for pretty much as long as Diavolo’s known him. It must be hard when Lucifer’s in charge of a place that actively allows smoking indoors but… Lucifer has more willpower than most people Diavolo knows. 

The action does, however, seem to break the moment between them, jarring Lucifer out of the suspended tension of their chat. Diavolo stifles the flare of disappointment as Lucifer clears his throat, gaze flitting away as he sips from his own glass. Unwilling to let the conversation fade into awkwardness, Diavolo sets his glass back down on the coaster. 

“Well, I’ve got nothing else to do tonight but drink myself silly at your overpriced bar, so…” 

Diavolo stretches his arms up in the air and rolls his neck side to side, ignoring Lucifer’s scoff at overpriced. After an exaggerated shaking out of his hands, he places them back on the keys, before glancing once more at Lucifer, “Kick me out whenever your next musician is ready to go, yeah?” 

“Of course,” Lucifer hums, but there’s a slight quirk to his mouth when he heads back into the crowd. 

His departure is followed by the beginning notes of a song Diavolo makes up on the spot, inspired by Lucifer’s long fingers wrapped around clear crystal, and by the soft bite of the whiskey on his lips.

-

-

-

He plays the entire night, despite Lucifer’s loud denouncement of any further pay since his set is technically over.

Lucifer probably has another musician booked to cover the last few hours of the night, but no one disturbs Diavolo, lost in the mindless melody dancing over the keys. It is no hardship for Diavolo, especially when Lucifer requests no set playlist from him. Their clientele doesn’t seem to have a preference or notice, too caught up in being rich bastards, most likely. 

Diavolo loves his craft; he loves music more than anything else in his life. There’s something else here, something about his desire to mash the new and the old, to bring life into the classics – he hasn’t told Lucifer about this yet, but he thinks Lucifer would understand. Lucifer’s hired him more than once, so Diavolo knows that Lucifer likes how he plays at least. Diavolo wouldn’t have crossed over that threshold into The Fall a second time if Lucifer hadn’t been impressed with his skills.

Lucifer may look like the stereotypical hot, repressed business type, but Lucifer owns a jazz lounge. 

Sure, it’s swanky and pretentious as hell, and all of the drinks are stupid overpriced if you ask him – but jazz, at its heart, is filled with an inescapable, overwhelming joie de vivre that makes the countless hours of practice worth it. 

Diavolo knows that it’s late, probably around two in the morning.  In his peripherals, he noticed the patrons progressively filter out in their expensive suits and shiny cocktail dresses, swaying with contentment from the good food, great drinks, and even greater musical accompaniment. He doesn’t have a watch and, because he’s a professional, his phone is somewhere at the bottom of his backpack in the employee break room, but he keeps playing anyway, simply because it’s easy for him to do so.

Lucifer shows up again, probably wondering how to kick Diavolo out so that no patrons try to linger past closing to listen to his music. Diavolo senses his presence lingering at the edges of the small performance floor, but allows himself to lean into his music rather than acknowledge Lucifer. 

With Lucifer there, Diavolo blatantly puts on a bigger show. 

A performer through and through, Diavolo likes to add a flourish to his performances regardless, but with Lucifer standing at the edge of the polished wooden floor that separates the performer’s area from the general floor, he bumps the obnoxiousness up a few levels. 

Slow, sustained notes are held longer for the effect, hands moving fluidly as they sweep over the keys. He curls his shoulders in, curls them out, sways as if the music is guiding him, instead of the other way around. Tilts his head back, exposing the long line of his neck, the top buttons of his shirt undone in a way that tends to make the older women in the crowd breathless and… 

Lucifer lets him, which is the funniest thing of them all, really. 

(He’s been so indulgent with Diavolo lately. He’ll get spoiled if Lucifer keeps this up.)

Gracious man that he is, he allows Diavolo to finish his song, a mindless melody led by his bold, sure right hand, gratuitous ease as his left hand follows instinctively. He switches his chords from the first inversion, to the second, never following a set decision and only choosing what feels right at the moment. 

He’ll never play this song the same way again, and he’s glad that Lucifer is there to hear it. 

“I hear you’ve got a lovely voice.” Diavolo says, once his foot lifts off the sustain pedal, notes fading. Diavolo turns to Lucifer, who seems (well, he’s stoic, but it’s Lucifer, so it’s subtle) surprised. 

“Like an angel.”

“Who told you that?” Lucifer asks, likely already narrowing down the suspects in his head. It’s Mammon, obviously, but Diavolo won’t throw him under the bus and Lucifer will figure it out anyway. Diavolo tries for a mysterious smile, and Lucifer tchs under his breath.

“Mammon.” Lucifer says, but Diavolo mumbles I plead the fifth with his hands held up placatingly, sending an unspoken prayer to the heavens for Mammon’s fate. It really wasn’t his fault, Diavolo’s just nosy.

“You should perform for your customers one day, they’d love it. I can be your accompanist.” Shifting gears, Diavolo leans back on the bench, one hand propping himself up on the edge of it as he tilts his head invitingly at Lucifer. “I’ll even give you a returning employer discount for my services.” 

Lucifer quirks one regal, haughty eyebrow, and Diavolo is startled with the sudden urge to kiss the arch of it. 

“An accompanist.” Lucifer says, a master at saying few words for maximum effect, “You.” His gaze flutters to Diavolo’s hands, clear disbelief that Diavolo could ever manage to behave. They seem to linger longer than intended, and Diavolo’s so, so glad he rolled up his sleeves a few hours ago. 

Diavolo allows himself to look mock-offended, pressing one hand to his chest, “You doubt me?” 

“I have always been under the assumption that being an accompanist means to follow someone else’s lead. Are you saying that you’d be amenable to that?”

It’s a clear reference to Diavolo’s fluid style of playing, loose in structure but full of excitement. Diavolo’s music denies what’s written on the sheet music, instead seeking out chaos and harmony in equal shares. An accompanist, traditionally, is not as much of a wild card as Diavolo’s style advertises. 

The laugh that bubbles from Diavolo’s chest is warm, inviting, and it shakes his shoulders with mirth. It holds him hostage for a bit, until it mellows out into a chuckle. He wipes at an invisible (read: nonexistent, for dramatic effect) tear from under his eye. 

“You got me,” Diavolo huffs, before allowing him to fully take in the sight of Lucifer at the end of a long night, the weary look in his eyes of someone that still has plenty of work to do. Lucifer should take more time off, Diavolo thinks, having an inkling of what Lucifer’s hectic schedule tends to look like. Maybe he just needs to blow off some steam.

“Maybe there just hasn’t been someone I’d like to take charge,” Diavolo settles on, words heavy with an offer, but vague enough to lend a way out. He turns to look back at the piano, lightly dragging his fingers along white keys in a soft, half-attempted glissando, but the smile still plays at his lips. 

Silence. 

Willing himself to not look up, Diavolo tries to catch Lucifer’s reaction in the polished black grand’s reflection. Of course, it’s a piano, and only offers a blurry, warped image that shows he hasn’t immediately run away at an obviously charged offer.  

“And there is now?” Lucifer asks. 

-

The liquor Lu serves Dia is a macallan 18yo triple cask single malt whiskey which is a fun $261 USD per bottle! don’t think too hard about my descriptions of jazz, i got lazy.

[stayinurlaneboi]

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last updated: February 10, 2022

ＳＷＤ ＯＢＥＹ ＭＥ (Part 2)

Lucifer 

#35 “I just wanted to let you know that I think your beautiful” 

#36 “I’m lost without you”  

mc gets a nightmare and.....

the warmth that is love  

“your not going out looking like that” 

he has to fall in love 

dance lessons  

“when you smile, I fall apart” 

mcs tryna resettle but he misses her 

minacious 

mc and lu cant catch a break 

like the sun, he thinks, like the rise of a new day 

under your breath while the whole house sleeps, just before you have to leave for the day. more for yourself than for them 

mc sits in lu’s lap 

would he fall again? for her? 

he has mc groom his pretty wings for him 

sleeper agent passions 

“your warm”

operation hot potato

you can’t kiss lu and not fall in love with him

a moment of respite

hey siri call chicken wing

s1 lu an mc’s relationship was so fuckin funny

getchu a man who bites back

soft luci appearing when ur sad

lu seduces you thru his honesty

morning kisses

Mammon 

“well that was attractive” + “touch her and i’ll end you” 

among stars 

no competition 

memories at midnight 

the one where he’s truly angry  

blanket hog  

i need you forever  

reunion  

the gift that keeps on giving 

hes a hazard to your wallet but you love him anyway 

every morning  

the family buttmonkey

 two hearts 

general hc 

can’t sleep? 

drowned 

an explanation on his greed 

offering to break the pact 

when he fell 

maybe you should’ve told his the letter was from lu 

tickle war 

this is the last of our days 

home again (last of our days sequel) 

warmth 

dating hc 

sensitive s/o 

“you’re in love with her” 

between flashes of thunder and lightning 

the theory of mammon 

him and food 

if anything happens to mc id kill all of you and then myself 

birds of a feather flock togeather ya know?

his brothers are taking up all of mc’s time and hes pouty abt it

mc has a needlessly long plan to steal a kith

Beelzebub

first kiss 

i sleep better with you 

he falls asleep and searches for you 

chilly 

beel being a lil shit 

lessons learned  

seeing another demon get rough with reader 

hes just a wholesome bby

Satan 

i want to kiss you 

read to me? 

“do you believe in soulmates?” 

bubbly s/o 

after demon attack comfort 

a gets super mad but b is the only one that calms them 

satans heartbreaking reveal 

how mc distracts him from his book 101

Belphegor 

helping with insomnia 

can i kiss you? 

post demon attack comfort 

anti nightmare potion 

naptime cuddles

Misc

lu + big spoon bribery 1 2

levi + cuddle attack!

levi + intimacy

az + loves his platonic attention

az + redamancy

simeon + godling

dia is unquestionably the baddest bitch but hes t i n y around mc

dias mission to unite the 3 realms ft tik tok

babie simeon an grown luke comic

they have fun lil monster qualities

levis wheelies no longer have wheels

baby!simeon with grown luke and sol who babysits them

2+ Demons

twins + movie night

twins + gains and goofs ft a broken ac

mon/az + lemon tea

levi/belphie + mc comforts them

lu/sa/beel + reaction to another demon tryna flirt w/ their s/o

az/levi/luci/belphie + becoming clingier

mon/lu/satan + gen z humor

mon/beel/sa + post nightmare comfort

luci/beel/mon/belphie + demon stalker

mon/az/satan/beel/belphie + sneaking up to mc only to get punched

mon/si/dia + to the rescue

levi/mon/az/belphie + with an affectionate s/o that suddenly stops

mon/levi/sa/az + super oblivious mc

lu/dia/levi + an mc who hold their hand subconsciously

mon/beel/sa + comfort after nightmares

barb/az/simeon/luke/sol + getting sick

lu/belphie/levi/mon/sa/dia + getting sick

li/satan/mon + suprising them with love

lu/levi/beel + ily

sa/lu + soulmate au

sa/lu + mc takes care of them alot

mon/lu + shopping with mc

mon/beel/satan + comforting mc after a nightmare

lu/az/levi + comforting mc after a nightmare

dia +comforting mc after a nightmare

dia + getting turned into a cat an being found by mc

simeon/az + sleepover for the ages

undateables. + movie night

OT7/Diavolo + concert dates

Series

OT7 + dealing with mc’s death 1 2

OT7 + mc steals their clothes pt 2

OT7 + plushies 1 2

OT7 + pact marks 1 2

OT7 + small mc tryna get smooches 1 2

OT7 + the snapping 1 2

OT8 + mc turns into a toddler

OT8 + mc’s first v-day

OT8 + mc jumps into their arms scared

OT8 + an mc that showers affection onto everyone

OT7/sides + oblivious mc 

OT7/sides + tackle hugs 1 2

OT7/sides + kiss competition

OT7/sides + having a nightmare where they killed mc

OT7/sides + touch starved mc 1 2

OT7/sides + how they find out how flexible humans really are

OT7/sides + mc gets resurrected 1 2