To your surprise, sleep began to wean only minutes before your alarm could go off. It was times like these you wished for the sun to shine through a window near your bed, cascading over you as you woke up, but the bunker had no windows so a blinking red alarm next to your bed would have to do. Yawning, you leaned over to turn the alarm off and flick on the lamp beside it. You ran a hand over your face as the hazy yellow light enveloped the room. Your eyes sleepy gazed over at the other side of the bed. The sheets were flipped up and the pillow was dented as if someone had been sleeping beside you. I must have rolled over in my sleep, you briefly thought before slowly standing up from the warm embrace of the sheets and pulling on a ripped pair of jeans and a warn band tee. The bunker had been fairly hot the past few days so you forgo your black plaid flannel, leaving it hanging in the closet. The scent of coffee wafted through the air as you made your way to the kitchen, the chilled floor on your bare feet making you shiver slightly. You must have been the last one to wake up as Cas and Dean were already seated at the table with half empty cups of coffee and mostly finished plates of food. Cas's signature dirty trench coat hung around him and you couldn't help but briefly notice how close their arms were. Instead of sitting across from one another, they had squished in right beside each other, shoulders pressed against the other. As you walked to the coffee machine, you could have sworn you caught a glimpse of their hands intertwined. If you knew Dean at all that was probably left unmentioned, so with a confused smile etched onto your face, you directed your attention back to the coffee and poured a steaming glass.
"Morning sleeping beauty," Dean greeted as he finally noticed you.
"Morning," you sleepily returned, taking a careful sip of the black liquid, sighing as it warmed your throat.
"Rough night?" Dean's question came with a suggestive wink that made you scoff. If anyone had been in the bunker with you, it's not like they would go unnoticed.
"No, I just," you rolled your shoulders back and yawned again, trying to shake off the post-sleep sluggishness that had secured itself so tightly to you, "I just slept hard I guess." It had been over a week since your last hunt, you hadn't drank last night, and you went to sleep before 2am, so there was no real reason for the tired ache in your bones or the lingering headache you were hoping the coffee would take care of. Things had been a little tense lately. Chuck had decided the bunker was the best place to put Lucifer in some cosmic 'time out', which made stress levels run high. You didn't mind him being there, if you were honest you had always had this strange attraction to the blond archangel. You could even say you sympathized with him but given the boys' past with him, it was more than understandable that they were less than happy about the situation. But who can refuse God? Speaking of the Devil, Lucifer chose this moment to saunter into the kitchen. He was dressed in his usual attire, worn jeans, and a greenish shirt, but had opted for a leather jacket you hadn't seen before. Cas and Dean glanced up at him, but quickly returned to their conversation you weren't able to hear, without a scowl or glare his way.
"Morning," you greeted, before turning around to top off your coffee. You tried your best to at least acknowledge him every morning but he usually just passed through the rooms, scowl seemingly glued onto his face without a word or locked himself in some room somewhere for a few hours. Suddenly, two arms snaked their way around your waist from behind you, making you jump as your coffee sloshed over the side of the cup, dripping down the side.
"Good morning," Lucifer whispered softly, so close to our ear that you could feel his breath, sending shivers down your spine. His usual chill was seeping into your back, making you regret leaving the flannel in your room. You were too shocked to be scared as you twisted yourself around to face him. He loosened his arms, allowing you to do so, but kept them wrapped around your waste. You were slack-jawed as he smiled down at you, not his devilish grin he wore so often, but a softer more genuine smile that you had maybe seen ghost his lips once before for a few seconds. Unable to say anything for a moment, your eyes darted to Dean and Cas who had taken no notice of Lucifer's sudden affection toward you. Your grip unconsciously tightened around the mug as you continued to stare, at a loss for words, up at him.
"Sleep well?" He purred in the same low whisper as before but he gave you time to answer as he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. You felt as if your brain was short-circuiting. Lucifer was kissing you? In the bunker? And no one even seemed to notice? Despite your swirling thoughts, your lips softly returned the caress as he moved his tongue along your lower lip, nearly pulling a moan from your lips.
"Good news," Sam's voice caught your attention as Lucifer pulled away. You mentally smacked yourself as the loss of contact make your heart drop. Sam was just a few steps from the door and shoving his phone back into his pocket, "My hunter friend I was telling you about checked up on the case and it looks like it's wrapped up pretty tight," Sam smiled as he glanced from Dean and Cas to you and Lucifer. He had seen Lucifer kissing you. You were certain he had but he said nothing. He didn't even make any indication he had noticed or cared.
"Great," Dean added, followed by a "That's very good, Sam," from Cas.
"Yeah, um," you cleared your throat, trying to find the words, painfully aware that Lucifer still stood very close to you, his arm nearly brushing yours, "That's good. I'm glad we don't have to go back." Your words spilled out without much thought but you were glad you didn't have to return to that creepy-ass town. The four of you had caught wind of several hauntings about 7 hours from the bunker and it had turned out to be the misfortune of an antique collected with a bad knack for purchasing haunted items. The main problem was that the old man who lived there was senile and had buried several items in the land surrounding the house. Sam had managed to destroy as many suspected items he could find in the house while you and Dean had spent hours essentially reenacting the movie Holes. The entire town gave you the creeps but there was the worry you all had to go back if another haunting popped up from some passed over trinket. Luckily that apparently wasn't the case and all the spirits were taken care of. Lucifer's arm moving around the side of your waste pulled you from your thoughts and you quickly moved forward out of his grasp. Lucifer's calm expression twisted slightly into one of worry.
"Are you alright, Love," He asked and for a second you found yourself at a loss for words again.
"Yeah, I'm - I'm fine," Sam was staring down at you too now with a similar look on his face.
"Are you sure, you seem a bit jumpy," Sam questioned.
"I'm fine I just." You just what? What the actual fuck was going on? "I don't feel so hot," you managed before making your way out of the kitchen as fast as you could without running, discarding your still full cup of coffee on the counter as you went. Instead of B-lining it to your room, you stopped in the hallway to breathe and try to slow your heart that was beginning to feel like a jackhammer. Ok, so what exactly was happening? Lucifer was being affectionate—more than that he kissed you—fuck. And Sam didn't even notice. On top of that Dean and Cas were practically snuggled together like they hadn't spent the majority of their lives dancing around their feelings.
"(Y/N)," Sam called softly as he walked up to you, "Seriously, is everything alright?" You looked up at him like he had three heads.
"Have you not noticed anything weird going on this morning?" you scoffed and he pressed his lips together.
"Can't say that I have. What kind of weird stuff?"
"Like the fact that your brother and Cas are suddenly holding hands in the kitchen or you know, the tiny little fact that Lucifer just made out with me in the kitchen." Sam made a brief indignation of disgust before his face morphed into a humorous expression.
"Dean and Cas finally got over themselves months ago. Remember," He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Dean sat as down looking like a scared schoolgirl talking about their crush and then we all went for beers," Sam paused, waiting to see some sort of recognition on your face but found none, "And I'm still not thrilled about you and Lucifer but if I'm honest, you seem good for him, you know?" Dean and Cas are together and apparently so are you and Lucifer? This has to be some kind of spell or trick—
"Gabriel," you just short of whispered.
"What?"
"This is probably one of Gabriel's tricks," you reasoned. Of course, everyone shacking up, not remembering how this happened, It fit the Trickster's MO pretty damn well.
"Yeah, I uh, I doubt that," Sam laughed, earning a confused glance from you. "Gabriel agreed to cook it with the pranks."
"Since when?" Now it was Sam's turn to look at you as if you had an extra head or two.
"Since we started dating." If you had your coffee you would have done a spit take at that.
"What?" you stumbled out.
"Wow," He laughed again, but there was a sense of worry in his voice as he reached out to feel your forehead, "You don't feel hot but maybe you should go lie down." You batted his hand away but did your best to soften your voice. You had no idea what was going on but there was no sense worrying him or convincing him you were crazy even though you were less sure yourself with every passing minute.
"No, I think I'm gonna go down to the shooting range, clear my head a bit," You turned away from him, hearing a muttered "alright" before heading down to the range.
*Crack*
*Crack*
Bullets echoed throughout the room; the dull thuds of the gun firing radiated up your arms as you repeatedly shot at the target, focusing your thoughts on the sound and vibrations. It couldn't be a spell. There were few if any spells that would have power over archangels and if such a spell existed it was unlikely to be of the mundane 'everybody is apparently in love now' variety. It wasn't the trickster—or at least Sam didn't think so. Would Gabriel make Sam think they were dating to cover his ass? Probably but for some reason, Gabriel as the culprit wasn't sitting right with you.
*Crack*
And Lucifer—Lucifer kissed you. You knew you should want him to again but you did. His arms felt safe and yes, maybe feeling safe while wrapped up in the Devil's embrace was insane but so was the rest of your life. You placed the gun down and removed your headphones, as your target zipped up to you. Putting everything back away, you made your way up to the bunker's library. A sigh of relief escaped your lips, glad that the library was empty. No one was hurt yet and everyone seemed happy under whatever influence this was but the gnawing feeling in your gut couldn't be ignored so you grabbed a few books from the shelves and placed them on the table, two on Arabic lore and one on ancient witchcraft. Before you could sit down you noticed an oddly familiar chill on your back.
"Are you alright." turning, you saw Lucifer standing all too close to you again, "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're avoiding me," He pretended to pout as he stepped even closer to you, causing goosebumps to prickle along your skin. A deep arose from your chest as you gazed up at Lucifer, his frown turning into a smile that made the skin around his eyes crinkle.
"I don't know what's going on. Me and you we're not," you looked at the ground instead of finishing the thought, "This feels like a dream," you whispered. A dream—hazy and confusing—seemed to describe whatever this was quite well.
"Maybe it is a dream," Lucifer responded, his voice low but not quite a whisper, as he pulled you to him like he had that morning. He stared at you for a moment, his eyes locked on yours with a tender expression before leaning down for another kiss. Your hand slipped up to the back of his head, tangling your fingers slightly in his hair as five little words prodded at the back of your head.
"No harm in a dream."