AN: Prompt from Devil'sMiracle17—
I was thinking about how Tom Ellis now has a sexy salt and pepper beard, which they appear to have kept for Lucifer, judging from the photos released of S4. So I was wondering if you'd be interested in a fluffy established Deckerstar prompt where Chloe notices that Lucifer has grey hair, and he "blames" her for making him mortal.
To one of the most loyal and supportive readers I've ever met, Devil'sMiracle17, this one's for you.
"Digging the topiarize, bud!" Ella exclaimed. "Salt and pepper's a good look on you!"
"I beg your pardon?" he squawked.
She'd skipped off with all her infinite cheer before he had a chance to clarify. Still.
Lucifer had never, in all his existence, been associated with the words salt and pepper in any capacity beyond their uses in a kitchen.
He bounded for the men's room—not cause he believed her! No, that would be absurd.
(…but no one ever got hurt from being too sure, right?)
This was how Daniel found him, as he exited one of the stalls and headed for the sink next to Lucifer's.
(How barbaric, he thought. Weren't there proximal rules about this? Thou shall only occupy sink one space down from—and never beside—other men?)
"It's come for you, huh?" Daniel shook his head, his eyes distant as he mused, "I remember the first time I got mine—"
"You mean you can see it?" he roared. For the love of Dad, the lighting here was positively atrocious! How could he—"It's barely there!"
"I wouldn't sweat it. You get used to it—"
"I will literally pay you to stop talking—"
"—you'll see. It's just part of getting older."
Lucifer glowered. "I hate every word that's just come out of your mouth."
Daniel merely chuckled—too used to his antics—then clapped him on the back.
"Good talk, man."
"It most certainly was not!" he exclaimed, but he was all ready gone.
He stomped over to Chloe's desk and petulantly folded himself within his seat.
"This is your fault," he huffed as he proceeded to shred one of her mini-potted plant's leaves. Chloe hummed, not ceasing her typing even as she withdrew one hand to move it to a vicinity inaccessible to him.
"What is?" she murmured, though her eyes remained fixed on her screen.
"Aging," he spat, as if it were a curse—and it might as well be! "The Devil doesn't age."
"I don't know," she mumbled. "Isn't that kind of a package deal when you decide to forgo immortality? I mean, what did you expect?"
What had he expected? he wondered later that night, as he found himself in front of his bathroom mirror. He couldn't say for certain. But what he hadn't was—
"It's just so… soon," he whispered, palming the tiny wisps of frosted hair that now peppered his jaw with an emotion he couldn't—wouldn't—name.
But Chloe had always possessed the uncanny ability to read him, and voice that which he could never bring himself to confess.
"Hey," she said, wrapping herself around him from behind and resting her chin on his shoulder. "I know it's scary. If it makes you feel better, I cried when I spotted my first white hair."
He turned to her in surprise. "But you don't have white hair!"
She bit her lip, and he expelled a soft laugh, gathering her in his arms where she easily melted.
"You'd be beautiful to me, whether you had locks made of gold or a bald head. You know that, right? There's no one in the world I'd rather grow old with than my second favorite human in the world."
She gaped. "Second favorite?"
"Your urchin makes top list, but don't bloody tell her that," he rolled his eyes though fondness danced there. "She'll never let me live it down."
"It'll be our secret," she smiled.
Then he sighed. It was all so… novel to him—
"Besides," she raked her nails lightly against his scruff, "I kinda like it," she breathed, licking pruriently at the dimple that creased his cheek before taking off towards their bedroom, shedding clothes in her wake. "Would love it even more if it's between my thighs."
His grin widened.
—but he knew of worse fates… those of which he, fortunately, would never have to suffer.
Not with the love of his beautiful mortal life—and the one after it—by his side.
AN: Guys… we are… so close…
To Devil'sMiracle17 on your we might be dead by tomorrow review: I can't even begin to explain how much joy your review brought me. Seriously, my day is never complete until I get an email alerting me that you've commented on one of my fics. Thank you for the lovely words, as always, I feel as if you are too kind but at the same time, I'm definitely not complaining lmao. It's confirmed. You give me feels warmer than Deckerstar if your latest review was anything to go by. I'm practically glowing. I was planning on skipping today because I had absolutely, atrociously, nothing written. As Lucifer would put it—my well has gone completely dry plus my internet is being a bitch by NOT WORKING out of the blue (here's hoping when Lucifer premieres it'll be good by then omg prayer circle for me please) but then I got your review. It's two hours to the schedule I set for posting and I still have no internet, but here I am anyway cause you motivate me like no other. I hope this prompt lives up to your expectations and if it doesn't then… this is mighty awkward lol. It is the only prompt fill I actually enjoyed so there is that. All my other prompt fills performed poorly and it's most certainly chalked to the writing but, idk. I quite enjoyed this one, there was an air of contentment that overcame me as I wrote it (at least, when I wasn't raging at my internet hahaha) that I hope translated onto Deckerstar here and that I hope you feel as well. It's been an absolute privilege and legitimate joy to get to know you throughout this little project of mine and I wanted to thank you for giving me something to look forward to as we wait for the premiere. These little pockets of interactions have been a ray of sunshine on my otherwise mundane day. You will forever have my heart for that. I meant what I said—I've never had a more loyal, supportive, evocative reviewer ever. It's brilliant. You're brilliant. You've enriched this experience more than words can ever express. Just, thanks. So much.