An eternity came and went.

Lucifer turned slightly in his sleep, shifting his weight. The wings followed his motions and fluttered in a way that had to belie their weight. They were brilliant, glaring white under the moon. A condor would be put to shame.

Facing away from Dan, Lucifer's spine made a lovely defined curve all the way from neck to ass. Under normal circumstances, he's gorgeous. With wings splayed, 'hot' made for a serious understatement.

Fluffy smaller feathers demarcated between unbroken skin and wing roots exactly where perfectly matched twin scars used to take up real estate. Angel wings. Angel fucking wings.

Clutched deeply into the pillow, Dan's fingers were rapidly becoming numb with a lack of circulation.

His again-lover is an angel pretending to be the Devil? How did that even...?

Hadn't Lucifer's wings been stolen in the past? Weren't they fake?

Dan shifted minutely, unclamping fingers and stretching a single hand to touch the join of wings and skin. This would be a hell of a mean trick if Lucifer had attached his fake wings to himself in the middle of the night, in an attempt to give Dan a fucking heart attack.

The amount of glue alone it would take. Fingertips sank into warm white fluff. He could feel a strong heartbeat pulse in the supporting wing edge itself. Lucifer snorted and turned over, this time toward Dan, flipping the wings away in the other direction with a whuff of displacing air.

Dan sat like that for another eternity before carefully putting the pillow down. He pinched himself just to be sure. His heart pounded hard enough to wake the dead.

He thought about texting Chloe, but that would mean leaving the bed to hunt down his phone. And what would he say? Hey, Chlo', Lucifer let me ride him until I came three times and oh, did you know about the wings?

Shit. What if she doesn't know? That's the kind of thing she would have warned him about, right? Hey, Dan, do you have any bird allergies? Just in case Lucifer turns part mythological beast? They're the size of a house, so watch yourself.

Or maybe she would have if she hadn't been dealing with Trix. Shit. Did Trixie know? Did anyone?

Lucifer didn't make the name up, did he?

Impossible stared him in the face with sleep closed eyes, wild black curls, and moonlit skin.

Oh, and eyeliner.

Dan watched the most beautiful thing on earth lightly snoring feet away from him on high-thread-count sheets in a nightclub five floors up.

Did that make Amenadiel...No, work that out later. One angel right now is plenty. Did that make Satan an angel? Or an angel with a Devil complex? Or something else entirely? Aliens? Dan pulled his legs up and crossed his ankles, resting wrists across his knees delicately.

Obviously, the Devil hadn't hurt anyone. Well, anyone he liked. Thinking back, he never vyed for Dan's soul either. Lucifer always got pretty pissy about the bad rap Satan got. And he had those eyes you could get lost in forever.

Alien became preferable to celestial at this point. It gave Dan a slightly more comfortable box to let him not go entirely insane in. He stopped himself from laughing aloud. Here he woke up in bed, thoroughly wrung out by something who thought Dan worth his time. Whatever Lucifer is, he clearly has physical needs and desires.

And pain, remembering the time or two Lucifer had been shot or hurt.

Dan breathed out.

Now what?

He certainly wouldn't sleep now. Adrenaline still rushing through his veins with wild abandon. He knew from past experience he might start shaking from it soon.

Dan opened his mouth. The name died on his tongue. 'Lucifer' suddenly meant a lot more than 'playboy nightclub owner/police consultant'.

Lucifer's sculpted chest rose and fell a dozen more times while Dan just watched in midnight darkness and twisted sheets. The wings had a faint glow of their own about them. The music from below softly thumped the floorboards, barely audible as more than a thrum.

What's Lucifer's license plate? "Fallen" something? The Devil was a fallen angel, wasn't he? Dan never wanted to flip through a bible more in his life. Had that happened in Genesis or a later book? When did angels learn to drive? On their 16th birthdays or later?

Did that make Revelations real?

Dan shuddered. He needed to get a grip before he followed the wrong thread of thought into crazytown.

He wanted to just stay here until the sun came up and not disturb whatever slept beside him. The raw sunlight on his wings had to be stunning. This might be a kind of gift Dan would never get again in his life. Lucifer could have shown his wings at any point but hadn't chosen to. Dan shifted again, recrossing his legs, enraptured.

He also had to pee.

Dan sighed and dropped his feet to the floor, intending to make a trip to the bathroom.

Lucifer muttered something in his sleep, swept one strong arm out and pulled him close, spooning him, hip to hip. Dan barely suppressed a surprised yelp. Lucifer's five o'clock shadow burrowed into his neck in a motion that would have been delightful a few hours ago, when he didn't know he'd been in bed with the literal Devil. Wings folded down over his face, shining feathers tickling his nose.

Oh god oh god oh god…

Dan sneezed, hard.

Wings snapped forcefully back behind them with a crack. Dan knew without knowing how that they were 'away' again. Light vanished.

Lucifer's voice came out gruff. "Daniel?"

He swallowed hard on a dry throat. "...Yeah?"

"Bloody hell." Lucifer shoved him away somewhat forcefully and rolled on his back with a sigh.

He sat up. "What?"

"Don't play the idiot, I won't tolerate it."

Dan looked away. "Okay, yeah, I saw."

Lucifer looked infinitely disgusted with himself. "You weren't supposed to."

Dan fought not to be crushed. This, probably exactly why he wasn't 'supposed to'. He kept himself from asking to see them again.

Lucifer glanced up at Dan. Rolled his eyes. "How much did you see?" Flat.

He shifted uncomfortably. He still had to pee. "They were out for minutes or maybe hours...I don't really know." He winced, fearing he'd be banished from coming back. From ever seeing them again. His bit his tongue to keep himself from blurting out something stupid.

The bitterness in Lucifer's voice is palpable. "Got a good eyeful then, did you?"

"I woke up and they were just...there. Can I just, um?"

"What?"

"I need to use the bathroom."

Lucifer side-eyed him but waved him away.

Still, in bed and tense, he didn't move when Dan came back. Better than having his clothes thrown at him and being shoved out. Dan took it as a semi-good sign and sat down on the mattress. If Lucifer really wanted to, he probably could just drop him off the balcony. He wondered if the wings were functional for flight, but didn't ask.

He sat in silence, knees drawn up again, feeling more naked now than a few hours ago, and not in a good way. His heart rate had slowed down at least. He risked glancing over.

Lucifer stared at his ceiling. "I guess you aren't going to run off screaming then."

Dan just looked at his friend. "Does that happen?"

The Devil finally cracked a smile. It was full of ash. "Not falling entirely catatonic is a good start, I suppose."

Softly, "I think I'm past that part."

"Linda took a week."

"Your...therapist, right?"

He didn't respond.

Dan opened his mouth again but didn't know what to ask or say. Whatever Lucifer is, he might be expecting rejection, or maybe outright worship. The eternal problems of otherworldly beings sounded suddenly very heavy.

Well. If Lucifer is an alien, he hadn't eaten his brain yet. If he had special mental powers to erase memories, leaving now wouldn't do him any good either. And of course, if he really is having sex with Satan himself, he'd be absolutely boned either way. What else could he do? Fish up his clothes, dress and leave? Thank you very much for the lay, so goodbye, and please don't send me to hell? Does getting fucked by the Devil entitle one to special 'non-burning' privileges?

Maybe that's exactly what Lucifer is thinking. He never made up another name because everyone would always assume he's just playing the part. Making those around him never take him a face value, because why would they? And then what if they did?

Dan deliberately stretched back out, flapping sheets and blankets over himself and Lucifer and righting the much-abused pillow under his head.

Lucifer watched him warily, still tense and radiating an unfriendly aura, unmoving.

"I didn't know the Devil is a spooner."

That earned him a more familiar smirk. The Devil he knew.

"I guess you're complicated after all."

Dan slid closer, draping an arm around Lucifer's waist and at least attempting to go back to sleep. His body radiated warmth, as always.

"You really are adorable, Douche."

"Shut up."

Somehow Dan slept, but not well. Angry nuns chased him in his dreams. He died and went to heaven, but it turned out to be hell. Lucifer threw him in a pit of fire for the years of not believing him. Trixie yelled, mad at him for some reason and she secretly turned out to be Lucifer's child instead of his. Lucifer flew him to the top of Lux and dropped him onto the street below.

Dan hated falling dreams. He didn't have a restful night.

Chloe texted in the morning to say she'd be at home with Trixie and to stay away for at least another day. It might be just a rampant stomach bug and not full-blown flu.

At least it's Saturday. Dan had the whole weekend to not go crazy. Hopefully.

There were a thousand things he could to text, but just sent back "Get better soon."

Lucifer felt charitable enough to make breakfast after completing his grooming routine and putting his hair back in place. He worked the espresso machine, made avocado toast, bacon, and pulled out fresh strawberries.

Dan showered and pulled on Lucifer's extra pajamas but nothing else. Other than his hair perfectly in place again, Lucifer dressed the same, his silk pajamas clinging invitingly.

Dan declined morning sex. He realized he became more comfortable at admitting to himself his coworker could be easy on the eyes.

The Devil sliced strawberries. "So?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to ask?"

Dan turned his small espresso mug around in a circle. "Ask what?"

"You're absolutely dying to know if Chloe knows. Honestly, you can be too polite, you know."

Dan winced. He did more of that lately. "Does she?"

"No."

Lucifer served up a plate for each of them, smiling to himself.

Dan rubbed his baggy eyes. "Okay, fine, why haven't you told her?"

"Detective, I've told everyone for ages-"

Dan pointed crisp bacon at him. "I know, I know, It's our fault, right?"

"No need to be rude either."

"Thanks for breakfast. Do you even need to eat?"

"I enjoy it. Humans tend to notice when their guests don't eat anything."

Every time he'd ever said 'humans' stuck in Dan's brain now. "How about that thing you do to suspects?"

"Part of my 'superpower' as Chloe calls it is drawing out desires of others. Sometimes people really do want to tell the truth."

"They can't want to be caught though?"

"They want acknowledgment. They don't want to be 'caught' but they do want to boast. I can influence them to override their better judgment."

"So why LAPD and not, say, FBI?"

"I despise paperwork. I doubt they'd give me a security clearance. You and the Detective are much more entertaining to work with."

Dan admired Lucifer's backside when he turned to the toaster. "I could get used to this breakfast thing."

Lucifer caught him looking and gleefully leaned over the bar, crossing well-toned arms. "You really are doing quite well so far. You aren't part-angel or demon yourself?"

Dan shook his head. "No, right now I'm just thinking of you as a friendly extraterrestrial with a bible obsession. So far, it's working. The longer I can put off thinking about an afterlife, the better. Shit. Demons. Maze?"

"And he's broken again. Well, it was a good try." He sipped his espresso. "Yes, Mazikeen is a demon. She came with me when we left."

Hell. When they left Hell. Dan automatically dry swallowed his toast.

Lucifer waited as if mentally ticking down. He reached out when Dan got out of his chair, resting a hand on his chest. "Yes, she's really a demon. No, Beatrice is not in danger, never has been. If anything, she's safer than any other child on the planet. No, I didn't suggest they move in together."

Dan unfroze by degrees but didn't quite trust himself to speak. He sat again and fiddled with another piece of bacon and tried to sort everything into new mental boxes he never imagined he'd have to make.

Lucifer stepped back. "All right?"

"Who knows about...?"

"Just you and Dr. Linda Martin."

"Will you tell Chloe? Really tell her?"

Lucifer's smiled dryly. "I guess I have to think about it. Like yourself, I want to put off reality as long as possible."

"Why wait?"

"I don't want to hurt her. I deeply feared Linda would end up permanently broken. I don't want that to happen to Chloe. I couldn't bear it."

"She's stronger than she looks, you know that."

"Is it worth that kind of risk? Even if she is stronger than she looks? Can you tell me you'd risk it? Breaking her would remove your child's mother from her life. You can't tell me you wouldn't blame me for all eternity."

Dan looked away. He would, at that. "But I'm okay. And you have been telling us for a while now."

"Did that matter until last night?"

"No, I guess not." Because I didn't believe you.

"Do you understand that I don't think I'd be able to fix her? You may not even be all right in the long run, it's only been a few hours."

"Is Linda?"

"She does seem to be, now."

"Maybe all the women are stronger."

"Well, you did meet mum."

Oh shit. He breathed very carefully. He did more than 'meet' her. "Please tell me she isn't your literal mother."

"Not in the biblical sense, I suppose. I mean, she avoided the whole actual birthing part."

"Oh no."

Dan would not sleep again ever.