Trigger Warnings: This story will involve themes of time-appropriate references to racism and homophobia, mentions of bodily injury and sexual assault.

Rainbow After the Rain

"If you want the rainbow, you must have the rain."

– Oscar Levant, Billy Rose, & Bryce Duffour

Part One: Encroaching Clouds

The rocking on the trolley combined with the warmth of the high sun lulled Lucifer into a daze as he nestled in the cushioned seat between two bags of groceries. Alastor sat beside him, his own arms occupied with groceries, and he hummed a contented tune that was occasionally accompanied by the trilling of the trolley bell. Charlie was on his other side, bouncing on her knees as she stared at the passing landscape.

Lucifer didn't know when he closed his eyes, but he was roused by a gentle tapping on his left shoulder. When he rolled his head over, he saw Alastor with a snarky smile. "We're almost there. And, remember, you promised Charlie she could ring the bell?" He pointed up to the braided cord running parallel to their seat.

Lucifer refrained a groan. Against Alastor's arguably better judgement, Lucifer had promised Charlie that she could "ring the bell" on their way back. And now Alastor was making him hold up his end, which, alright, fair. But didn't Alastor see how tired he was? Well, if that smile was an indicator of anything, he knew exactly how tired he was.

Looking over at Charlie, who was now on her feet and bouncing on the seat, some of that weariness drained away. "Alright, kiddo," he said, pushing himself to stand. Her face lit up and she reached up with both hands towards the cord.

"Yay!" she said in a giggle as he grasped her under her arms and lifted her up high to reach the cord. "Can I pull it now?"

"Not yet," he said. Her enthusiasm was contagious and he was smiling alongside her. "Get ready."

"Make sure not to miss," Alastor warned with a teasing grin. "Otherwise we may never get off this trolley."

Charlie's eyes grew wide. "What?!"

Lucifer chuckled. "He's just teasing, sweetie."

"Alastor, you jerk," she cried, sticking out her tongue from her lofted position.

"You wound me, Charlie," said Alastor with a dramatic show of hurt on his face. He brought his hand up to his chest as though struck. "I may never recover from such cruel animosity!"

"You started it," she accused.

As entertained as Lucifer was of the exchange, their stop was quickly coming up. "Get ready," he repeated, pulling her from her glare war with Alastor. "We're just about there. Go ahead and grab the cord but don't pull it yet, okay?"

"Okay," she said. She grasped the cord in both of her tiny hands, deep concentration etched into her pudgy face.

"Ready in 3, 2, 1!"

With the dramatic flair equivalent to a lifeline, Charlie pulled the cord taught. The bell overhead chimed and the trolley came to a subtle stop. "I did it!"

"You sure did!" Lucifer turned her over so he could see her face. "You did a such a great job."

"Let's be off," said Alastor, grabbing his two bags of groceries and taking one of Lucifer's as he stood. "If we take too long, the driver may choose to leave with us still on board."

"Nuh-uh, Alastor," Charlie retaliated as Lucifer placed her on the ground. "Don't lie."

"Would I lie to you?" he asked, bending at the waist to better meet her eyes.

"You do all the time!"

"Now, that's a rude accusation. I'm the epitome of honesty."

Lucifer scoffed at that one, earning him a side-eyed glare. He lifted his brows incredulously to dare him to defend himself. Alastor merely shrugged and coaxed them out of the trolley by taking the lead towards the door.

"He is right, Charlie," Lucifer said as he gathered his remaining bag. He offered his free hand to her. "If we don't hurry off, it will be rude. Say 'thank you' to the driver for waiting for us."

She turned towards the front of the trolley and waved a hand. "Thank you, Mister Driver!" She waited until the man gave a cheery wave in return before she grabbed her father's hand and let him lead her off.

Alastor waited patiently on the sidewalk for them. His analyzing gaze stayed locked on Lucifer as he and Charlie caught up. "You were up too late last night," he accused. "I told you to stop working on that clock."

Lucifer sighed. "You know how I get. It's not like I can just, you know, turn it off."

He sighed through his nose. "Don't I know it! Perhaps I should consider drugging you next time."

"I'm pretty sure Lilith tried that. It didn't work."

Alastor chortled. "I can easily imagine. Oh. It looks like the movers are done."

Lucifer looked up the road and, sure enough, the truck seemed sealed shut and the movers were nowhere in sight. "Oh. I hope they didn't wait on us."

"Don't worry your pretty little head," he assured. "They're paid by the hour." His smile soured. "Knowing that foreman of theirs, I'm sure they're just slacking."

As the three of them crossed the threshold of their new Victorian home, they soon discovered that, indeed, at least one of them was slacking off. The television had been installed and the plastic removed from the couch, where the foreman was leisurely lying across it watching some skit show. At least the other two seemed to be doing some work, with the man unwrapping the other furniture and the woman organizing the boxes in the kitchen.

"Uh, sir?" said the shorter of the two men to his boss.

And, yes, Lucifer was happy to say he was taller than all of the movers.

"Huh?" The foreman peeked over the back of the couch and gave a lewd grin. "There you are. Was starting to think the two of you ran off to some sleazy hotel to diddle your holes or something." As if his words weren't crude enough, he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Excuse me?"

Lucifer didn't need to look at Alastor to see the murderous glare he was undoubtedly shooting the foreman. His own glare heated gaze was sure to match. "Watch your mouth in front of my daughter," he warned darkly.

The short one – Moxxie, was his name? – stepped between them and his boss. "I'm so sorry, sir. The summer heat makes him crass."

Lucifer could hardly consider that an excuse, especially since the summer heat here in New York couldn't hold a candle to the blazing summers of Louisiana. For his merit, the foreman looked remorseful once he caught notice of Charlie.

Alastor's calm tone was chilling as he set down the groceries with a careful precision, his eyes never blinking as he glared daggers across the room. "If you think any excuse can save you," he threatened, "then you're as foolish as you are irredeemably vulgar."

Lucifer was quick to step forward and grab his arm before Alastor could do anything that wound him in prison. Though, that did nothing to quell the fire burning in his partner's eyes.

"Look, I'm sorry," said the foreman as he pushed himself off the couch. "I didn't realize you had the pipsqueak." His demeanor took a dramatic shift as he crouched down to address Charlie. "Don't repeat any trash that comes out of my mouth, sweetie. I might as well carry toilet paper with me everywhere I go, you know?"

Charlie tilted her head at him. "Huh?"

Alastor wasn't finished. "And don't think for a second you won't get charged for the electricity you stole."

The foreman frowned but didn't argue the point. "Yeah, okay, that seems fair."

"I told you not to watch television," Moxxie mumbled.

"Put a cap in it, Mox. It's not like you were actually working. We all know you were just one shared glance away from pounding Millie into the kitchen sink."

"Sir!"

"Blitzø!"

Alastor and Lucifer both reached the end of their patience and they harmonized in a way he would later describe as hauntingly beautiful when they simultaneously screamed, "Get out!"

Thankfully, Charlie didn't pick up anything vulgar that had been said. Though she did question what was meant about the toilet paper. Lucifer had floundered but Alastor was quick to slide in with a quick explanation.

"It's because he's a 'potty mouth,' my dear. And if you say anything like he did, then I'll have you drinking out of the toilet."

The poor girl looked mortified. "Ew, gross!"

"I'm sure it's not so bad," Lucifer jested as he made a show of deep consideration. "Why don't we go try it?" When he reached down to pick her up, Charlie squealed and retreated to her room. After a brief chase resulting with the two of them in a tickling heap on her bed, the conversation had been thoroughly forgotten.

Lucifer left Charlie to unpack her toys while he joined Alastor to unpack the boxes in the kitchen and dining room. Alastor prioritized getting the record player up and running so he had something "cultured" to listen to. The radio would take longer since they'd have to find the right stations, but his partner was more than happy to play a favorite record while they unpacked. And, out of spite, Lucifer was sure, Alastor made it to where the television was framed with the record player on one side and the standing radio on the other.

The television had been a point of contention for the move. Alastor didn't have one back in his apartment and preferred it that way, but Lucifer saw no need to get rid of it. If Alastor didn't want to watch it, then he didn't have to. But that didn't mean Lucifer and Charlie should go without. Charlie loved watching the dancing competitions and neither of them were going to take that from her.

A jaunty tune played from across the room and Alastor's hips gave a playful sway as he delicately unwrapped the glassware. Lucifer found himself staring on more than one occasion during his designated task of putting away the silverware. If Alastor noticed, he gave no indication and Lucifer sure didn't want to draw attention to it.

Alastor was a man of little words when it came to acts of love. Worse yet, he had proven to be a liar at times when he felt particularly vulnerable. After several conversations in depth about how they both could improve themselves, Alastor really had put in effort to better himself. But there were still times Lucifer doubted how the man truly felt. About them, their relationship, the move… Alastor had always been there to allay those doubts, but they always returned unprovoked.

Right now, watching Alastor hum along to the song with the jovial tap of his foot, his doubts faded away. Alastor was in his element, claiming the kitchen as his own with some smooth legwork that partnered perfectly with the beat of the song. He radiated pure, unadulterated, genuine joy. Lucifer could stare at him all day.

Those dark eyes flittered his way, shining almost golden in the ray of the sun streaking through the window, and he reached out his hand. Lucifer didn't have a chance to say much more than a surprised squeak before his hand was snatched and he was pulled close.

"I'll never leave him alone, I'll make his troubles my own, I love that man as nobody can," Alastor sang along as he masterfully guided Lucifer into a leisure foxtrot.

Lucifer laughed, doing his best to keep up while being mindful of their contained space. He had no cause for worry. Alastor mindfully kept them safe from any menacing counter edges that drew too close.

As the song neared its end, Lucifer was pulled into a reverse underarm turn, effectively spinning him around and pulling him closer all in one fluid motion. With his back pressed snug against Alastor's lithe chest, the two finished out the dance languidly. If Lucifer hadn't already fallen in love with Alastor all over again, feeling his partner rest his cheek atop his head certainly would have done the trick.

His heart fluttered madly in his chest as Alastor's rich baritone sang along with the final verse of the song. "I'm just no good when his arms are about me. What wouldn't I do for that man? Oh," his arms fell loose and tightened around Lucifer's waist, "there's not a thing I wouldn't do for my man."

A part of Lucifer's brain – whatever remaining piece that was still functioning, that is – really wished he had noticed when the song had shifted from the previously playful tune to the serenade that had just graced his ears. Maybe then he would have been prepared for the absolute rupture of his heart. He was pretty sure it had swollen to three times its normal size and the only thing keeping him on his feet were those long arms still wrapped around him.

He twisted his head up, forcing Alastor to lift his own head. Their eyes met and Lucifer became acutely aware of the raging fire on his cheeks as he took in that look of pure adoration in those hazel eyes. He couldn't help himself. Lifting himself onto the tips of his toes, he leaned in for a kiss. Alastor helped close the gap and met Lucifer's lips with his own, warm and soft.

The kiss was ended all too soon simply because their current cuddle position was awkward and uncomfortable for kissing purposes. Lucifer fully intended on spinning in those toned arms so he could face Alastor properly, but before he could put his plan into action, Alastor pulled away with a contented chuckle.

"That's enough fun for now," he said. Lucifer put in an effort to not let his disappointment show. "If we want to have a warm dinner, then we better get this kitchen prepared. I will not be cooking out of a box."

Lucifer felt the need to show he was in as much control of himself an Alastor was and that his brain was not still lost in the fires of passion. Collecting a breath, he said, "Oh, uh, yeah, right."

Nailed it.

"Perhaps it'd be better for you to work on unpacking the living room," Alastor suggested as he dug into another box aptly named "kitchen stuff maybe."

Bewildered, Lucifer asked, "What? Why?"

"As I stated, the kitchen needs prepared. If that is to be done in a timely manner, I need to stay focused." He shot Lucifer a glare coupled with a teasing grin. "And I find you terribly distracting."

Lucifer shot him back with a toothy grin. "Distracting, huh?" He waggled his eyebrows. "Can't keep your eyes off of me?"

"Quite the opposite," he responded, looking thoroughly unamused. His expression reverted back to his cheeky nature as he turned away. "I find it hard to concentrate with someone burning a hole in the back of my head. I've been called quite the dashing fellow on several occasions, so I can't say I blame you for being drawn in."

Lucifer scoffed. "Keep your feet on the floor there, prima donna, before that swollen head of yours floats you away."

"Say what you'd like." Alastor bumped Lucifer with his hip, not-so-subtly ushering him out of the kitchen. "But your face betrays you."

"Yeah, well—" Lucifer's cheeks burned as he failed to think of a rebuttal. His brain was still cooked from that dance. "Shut up." He retreated from the kitchen with Alastor's laughter following behind him.

Lucifer can proudly say he is efficient when given a task. Sure, he may be prone to distractions, especially in the company of others, but once he focuses on something, he's too focused to do much of anything else. He only had to stop a couple of times to switch out the record – which he now had full control over since he had been banished to the living room – but otherwise he trucked through every box in the room.

There was still the bathroom and their bedroom, but that could wait until later.

Charlie eventually joined him in the living room, declaring that she had unpacked her room. Lucifer highly doubted it, but they could cross that bridge later. He allowed her to help with unpacking the less delicate items. Things only momentarily took a sour note when she tried to unpack one of Alastor's boxes. Lucifer barely felt comfortable letting himself handle Alastor's belongings, much less his five-year-old daughter. Lucifer was proficient in deescalating a child, though, and had her giggling away in a matter of minutes with the establishment of a box fort.

It was at that time Alastor started setting the table. Lucifer jumped in to help, stopping short at seeing the fine plates adorning the table. "These are… really nice," Lucifer observed as he carefully picked up a saucer. "Too nice, don't you think?" He would expect such fine dishes to be saved for formal parties, not a casual meal with family.

"Is it not appropriate to celebrate this evening?" challenged Alastor as he handled the dishes with a delicate hand.

Okay, yeah, that made Lucifer's heart do flips. Fashioned with a giddy grin, Lucifer leaned across the table to steal another kiss. Alastor seemed slightly taken aback but reciprocated.

When they pulled back, he raised a brow. "What was that for?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"In this circumstance? I believe so," he said, narrowing his eyes.

"I just… I'm happy you're happy." Bashfully, he busied himself with setting the utensils. "I didn't expect you to… I don't know…"

Alastor sighed, but there was a smile on his face. "How many times must I repeat myself?"

"I know, I know! You said you wanted this, but I—"

Lucifer was silenced in an instant when he felt a warm hand grasp his own. "Starlight."

Father above, did he have to purr when he called him that?

"I may not always express myself well, so allow me to be blunt." He leaned in close, kissing Lucifer on the cheek. "I'm overjoyed to share house and home with you. And Charlotte. I have no regrets. I love you." His confession was quiet but no less affectionate. Lucifer trembled under the intensity of those eyes fixed on his own.

"I love you, too," he said adoringly.

"I would hope so," Alastor said, returning to playful banter as he pulled away. Then, to Lucifer's horror, he began to gather up the set dishes. "This is a major step in all our lives and I believed it worth celebrating. But if you find I'm overindulging—"

"No!" So what if his answer was louder than necessary? It's Alastor's fault for toying with him. He reached out and reclaimed the dishes to return them to the table. "No, you're right. This is a night worth celebrating. Damn, I wish I made a cake."

"That's for the best, I'm sure."

"Don't give me that," Lucifer snapped. "My baking is delicious."

"It's too sweet."

"You say everything is too sweet."

"Only the things that are too sweet."

Lucifer pointed to Charlie in the living room. "What about Charlie?"

"I've said on multiple accounts that that child is too sweet for her own good."

Lucifer smirked. "But you never said she was too sweet for your own good." Alastor glared at him, his eye twitching in annoyance. Lucifer considered that a win and puffed out his chest. "That's what I thought."

The smell of their cooking meal must have finally wafted into the living room because Charlie was on her feet and rushing towards them. "Alastor's cooking!" she cheered. She gasped. "Will Alastor cook every day now?"

Without Alastor distracting him, Lucifer was now able to smell their dinner. It smelled heavenly. "Not every day, sweetie. Don't worry, I'll still cook."

He didn't foresee the frown adorning her face. "Can Alastor cook every day?"

Lucifer deflated on the spot while Alastor threw his head back and cackled. "My! How the honesty of children can be brutal!"

"Is my cooking that bad?" Lucifer squawked.

"What's the matter, Lucifer?" Alastor asked, grin wide as he poked him on the nose. "Find that hard to swallow?" He guffawed, humored by his own terrible joke.

To make things worse, Charlie was laughing along, too. Lucifer growled as his ego crumbled. He was certain it would never fully recover again. But, by God, he couldn't stay mad. It was uplifting to see Alastor and Charlie laughing together, even if it was at his own expense. It didn't really matter what the cause was; so long as they were happy, he was happy. He fell into a state of euphoria as he continued to set the silverware. This was the first in what he hoped to be a long tradition of the three of them sharing a laugh and a warm mean together as a family.

After the excitement of the move tapered off, Charlie ended up falling asleep in her fort of empty cardboard boxes. Lucifer found he had followed shortly after when he jolted awake on the couch.

"Huh…?" He blinked as he glanced around the room.

Under Charlie's request, they had turned on the television to see the local stations. It was still on and playing the news, but Charlie was gone from her place on the floor. The box fort remained intact, but had been carefully pushed aside to rest along the wall.

"Two peas in a pod, you two," came Alastor's voice from behind, the rumble of a restrained laugh undermining his tone.

Looking behind him, Lucifer caught Alastor just as he was putting away the dishes. There was an affectionate smile on his face as he made his way over. Bending over the back of the couch, he leaned forward and gave Lucifer a chaste kiss on the lips. "You should follow Charlie's example and get yourself to bed. I'll finish up here."

How could Lucifer get to bed now with Alastor looking down at him with that warm gaze? His kisses were few and far between without Lucifer's prompting and each time it made his heart flutter. It had taken so long to get Alastor comfortable enough to show affection and each display had Lucifer melting like butter.

With a giddy grin, Lucifer reached up and slipped a hand behind Alastor's neck, gently coaxing him down for another kiss. Alastor obliged without complaint and provided another, the second being just a fraction longer than the first.

With two years together under his belt, Lucifer could claim he was well versed in the enigma that was Alastor. When he was feeling affectionate, he would act in favors instead of physical touch. When he did provide physical touch, it came in variants depending on what he was willing to commit to. Persistently simple kisses meant he just wanted to quickly show affection and nothing more.

When Alastor set a pace, he did not tolerate another's. Though with Lucifer, he did comply to some demands, albeit mostly kisses. It was rare when their affections went beyond that. Lucifer didn't mind. He loved Alastor and he was willing to go at whatever pace made him happiest.

Lucifer's voice was a graveled whisper when he said, "I don't think I've said 'I love you' today."

With a hum, Alastor feigned contemplation. "Perhaps. I can't say I recall."

"Then let's say I owe you," he said, leaning in for one more kiss. "I love you, Alastor."

"And I love you, Lucifer" he responded huskily. "Now get to bed."

Though Alastor was every aspect of patient when he pulled out of his reach, Lucifer understood his tolerance for touch had reached its maximum for the day. "Fine, you win." He groaned when he pushed himself off the couch. "Sorry about the dishes. It was my turn…"

"None of that," Alastor said with a flippant wave of his hand. "I'll just make sure to cash in your due whenever I need it."

That was ominous. At seeing the devilish glint in his eyes, Lucifer let out a noise somewhere between a groan and a sigh. "I'm too tired to suspect what you mean." He stopped on his way to their shared room – and wasn't that an exciting prospect? – to glance back at him. "Will you be coming in soon? Al?"

Alastor was frozen in place. That mischievous smile was gone and his eyes were blown wide, staring at something off to the side.

Stepping back into the room, Lucifer tried to follow his line of sight. "What is it?"

It was the television. There was a local advertisement promoting a new line of television models at some electronics department store. The spokesperson was a handsome man with a silver tongue, and his portrayed confidence implied that he knew it.

Looking back, he found Alastor as pale as a sheet. He still hadn't moved. "Al?"

It was only when the advertisement ended when life returned to him. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

He was acting nonchalant, as if his soul hadn't departed him for a full minute just now. Lucifer had never seen him so shaken before. "Are you okay?"

"Of course! I merely dozed off for a moment. Yes, I believe I'll be joining you soon."

Lucifer didn't like the way his back was to him, avoiding eye contact. "Bullshit," he declared. "What was that about? Do you know that guy?"

Alastor still wouldn't meet his eye, instead focusing his attention on breaking down an empty box. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

Lucifer didn't like that at all. Alastor so very rarely avoided talking about anything and everything. He was a proud man who loved to imply that he knew what everyone was thinking. For him to act oblivious…

Making his way across the room, Lucifer tried again with an outreached hand. "Alastor, come on, you can talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

Before he could even make contact, Alastor went ramrod straight and slammed the empty box on the counter, stopping Lucifer in his tracks. He knew this play: Alastor was withdrawing, coiling to snap if Lucifer pushed further. If his posture didn't give him away, his tone did when he darkly warned, "Morningstar."

He preserved calling Lucifer by his surname whenever he was in a dangerous mood and Lucifer knew well enough to back down now before things got worse. "Okay. Okay," he repeated, putting more emphasis behind the word. "I'll back off. But we need to talk about this."

"I don't see the need," Alastor cut in sharply.

"You're not in the mood to talk. That's fine," he conceded. "I can wait for whenever you are." He paused, hoping for some form of affirmation that never came, before retreating to their bedroom.

What in the unholy hell just happened? Their day hadn't been perfect, but it had been pretty damn close, in his opinion. But now everything felt… defiled. The excitement of the move, the eagerness of finally having a room together, the unbridled joy of sharing a bed… all ruined because of a single local ad? Who the hell was that guy? And how did Alastor know him?

His brain, being the defective it was when it came to shutting down and allowing sleep, refused to settle down as he thought back to their shared kiss then the advertisement that ruined it all. He tossed and turned, waiting for the moment when Alastor joined him in the bed. As time dragged on, fear began to take hold that perhaps he'd be sleeping alone tonight. His heart pounded painfully at the thought, especially when the light leaking out from under the door disappeared but still Alastor didn't join him.

It had taken so long to ease Alastor into affection. Could one man in a commercial backtrack all their progress?

Lucifer's heart stuttered as a voice in the back of his mind screamed that some relevance could be found between those thoughts. But all other thoughts were rapid-firing. Maybe Alastor just feels overwhelmed, having to now share a home, a room, and a bed. Perhaps Lucifer should look into getting them separate beds so Alastor could have his own space.

The thoughts went on and on for an undetermined amount of time, scrambling over one another until they became an incoherent mess. The settling depression was starting to pull him under from mental and emotional fatigue when he finally heard the door open.

Footsteps, considerably quiet, made their way across the room. There was a ruffling of clothes in the darkness before a weight joined Lucifer in the bed. He lied with baited breath as he heard every sigh and grunt as Alastor settled down in the mattress. There was a moment of uncertainty before something soft grazed the back of Lucifer's hand. Without missing a beat, Lucifer adjusted his hand to allow their fingers to intertwine. Alastor hesitated, but eventually reciprocated and grasped Lucifer's hand in an almost painful grip.

There was a tug, the tiniest implication, but it was enough for Lucifer. Carefully, he eased himself across the bed until he was able to rest his head on Alastor's chest. To his immense relief, Alastor didn't stiffen at the contact. Instead, the other hand came up and carefully ran fingers through Lucifer's hair. Lucifer's body sagged into Alastor and his eyes stung from the flood of relief that washed through him. Instantly, his mind ceased and everything grew quiet. Just as he was drifting off, he vaguely heard a whisper in the dark.

"Thank you."

A/N: The song Alastor sings along to is 'What Wouldn't I Do for That Man' as performed by Annette Hanshaw and written by Gorney and Harburg.