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Lucifer growled across the table, using a metric ton of willpower to not set the cards in his hand aflame.
“Are you shitting me? You have to be cheating!”
Husk chuckled from the dealer’s side, picking up and shuffling the cards with ease, gold magic glinting along the edges.
“’fraid not your highness. I would be able to tell. Kind of my whole thing.” He flicked a chip toward Alastor, who caught it without any movement in his grin. “He’s annoyingly talented.”
“Such flattery Husker! You would know best wouldn’t you?” Alastor jabbed from behind his mountain of chips.
Any other night in any other place Husk would rise to the bait. In his element? Surrounded by the noise of slot machines, the feel of baize under his claws? Nothing could ruin his mood.
“Well maybe you’re helping him Mr. Ex-Gambling-Overlord,” Lucifer accused in a childish tone.
“Fat chance.” He smiled a little more gently. “Might just not be your game your majesty.”
“Yes, perhaps you just don’t measure up,” Alastor goaded.
“Oh, you’re resorting to height jokes? Guess that’s why your show tanked, your creativity all dried up?” Lucifer asked sweetly.
“Boys, boys, no fighting at the dinner table,” a new voice cut in.
Husk looked up, pupils dilating without his permission. Angel had been performing in the lounge tonight, promising he’d join them after his set. He’d thought he would have gotten changed, but he was still fully done up in drag, shining brighter than any of the machines around them.
“Angel,” he breathed softly.
“Hey loser,” he returned, leaning down to kiss him sweetly.
Radio feedback cut the moment short, both of them looking over to their companions. Alastor’s eyes were narrowed, while Lucifer had leaned his face on both of his hands, looking sappy.
“Must you two be so flagrant?” Alastor groused.
“Oh lighten up Bambi, I think it’s sweet,” Lucifer snipped.
“Nauseatingly.”
“You wouldn’t know romance if it bit you in the as-”
“Alright alright, less yapping, more dealing!” Angel interrupted before they could start throwing fists instead of words. He perched himself beside Husk, who gave him a once over. Angel winked at him.
They continued playing. Which really was like watching a slaughter as Alastor took more and more chips. An hour later, Lucifer smacked his head against the table.
“I haven’t lost this bad since that stupid fiddle...” he mumbled into the green.
“Don’t take it too hard, you ain’t the first, or the last, he’s wiped the floor with,” Husk comforted.
Alastor examined a poker chip, looking almost bored.
“This doesn’t have to be a loss, we could continue,” Alastor sing-songed.
Lucifer turned his head to glare at him.
“I don’t have any chips asshole.”
“Not money, we could bet..a favor.”
Lucifer frowned, jumping when a poker chip smacked Alastor right in the center of his forehead.
“Hey, no deal-making, we’re having a nice time as pals here,” Angel warned, his serious tone juxtaposing his beauty.
Alastor shockingly didn’t react more than shrugging.
“It doesn’t have to be a deal.”
“Angel’s right Lucifer, just walk away,” Husk warned while gathering the cards.
Lucifer, embodiment of pride, barely heard them.
“What kind of favor?”
Husk sighed, placing the deck down and throwing back the last of his drink.
“There’s no betting if there’s no dealer, and I’m calling it a night.” He took hold of Angel’s hand, helping him down from the table. “Let’s go home Legs.”
“Let’s do this again sometime boys!” Angel called over his shoulder as they departed.
It left the two of them alone. After an awkward moment of silence, Lucifer squinted at Alastor.
“What favor would you have asked for?”
Alastor hummed.
“Who knows. I just like the thought of having you in my back pocket.”
Lucifer grimaced, but his expression quickly smoothed out. He played with the drink he’d barely touched.
“Well, as long as you’re helping Charlie, you kind of do.”
Alastor’s head snapped towards him. He eventually met his eyes. The moment of scrutiny seemed to last for eons.
“...I see.”
Lucifer smacked the table before standing up.
“Welp! That’s enough fun for one night.” He fiddled with his cane. “Not that you deserve it, but need a portal back to the hotel?”
“Hm, a kind offer, but no. Wouldn’t want to waste this,” He motioned to his two fingers of whiskey.
“Suit yourself.”
He disappeared in a swirl of red glitter.
Alastor stared at the empty space, before picking up a red chip at the top of the pile.
“Fascinating.”