Chapter Text
Lucifer had no idea what he was getting into when he let Angel play makeup artist. He sat at the vanity, eyeing his reflection. "Not half bad, kid." He glanced at Angel. Sinners weren’t usually his crowd, but he was stuck at the hotel now, and he’d promised Charlie he’d be helpful, not a walking disaster for her dream.
Somewhere along the line, Angel got that look in his eye and shoved Lucifer into one of his old dresses and a wig. Funny enough, even with the big hair, with his androgynous appearance, he didn’t look like a drag queen, like Angel was probably intending.
Angel sits, “Damn, Lu, you make a hot lady.”
Lucifer looked at himself in the mirror, “I dunno, Angel. I think it’s too much for me.”
“You sprout horns and breathe fire, babe. You are too much. But look, the sparkles let you shine.”
They really did. Lucifer found himself admiring the sparkles, not that he’d admit it out loud.
A knock rattled Angel’s door. Angel barely looked up before yelling for whoever it was to come in. Alastor stepped inside, already huffing like just being here was a personal inconvenience. Sometimes it was. Angel can be a lot, but unlike Alastor, Angel can, in fact, read a room.
Alastor was looking at his claws and started talking, “Angel Dust, Charlie said she—“ he finally looked up and saw Lucifer.
Lucifer prepared for the bombardment of insults, either about the cake of makeup on his face, the giant wig, or even the dress that doesn’t fit him. Instead, Alastor bows, “My apologies, ma’am. I know I shouldn’t speak crudely in front of women, yet I did. Ms…” he waited for Lucifer to introduce himself.
What?
He shouldn’t speak crudely in front of women?
Lucifer heard he slapped Vaggi on the ass when he first arrived. Crude…he’s just a lying asshole.
Angel was about to correct Alastor and tell him that the woman was Lucifer when Lucifer stopped him by raising his hand. “A lady can introduce herself, Angel.” He looks at Alastor, “Colette. Sir. And I believe I heard of you, Mr. Radio Demon.”
Alastor brightened, “Indeed, Ms. Colette. How about I take you to dinner tonight as an apology?”
Lucifer smiled, “I’d love that, thank you.”
Alastor took his leave immediately after that, not even relaying Charlie’s message to Angel.
As soon as the door closed, Angel looked at Lucifer, “So we’re catfishing an overlord, huh?”
Lucifer flopped back on the bed, yanking off the wig. "He’s a pompous ass. Must think I’m delicate or something, talking to me like that. So yes."
“Or delicious. He’s a demon cannibal, too, Lu. You could be a new victim.”
That was a very real possibility. From what Lucifer heard, Alastor broke multiple contracts when he was captured by Vox a year ago. Alastor is no longer bound by Rosie to keep his head on straight. He can go as ballistic as he pleases. Meaning he can attack Lucifer and the fallen angel, who cannot do a damn thing about it. But he’s willing to risk it to piss this guy off. He’s been on his high horse for too long, and Lucifer was itching to kick him off it.
"I’ll be fine. I’ll go to dinner, tease him a little, then toss him." He shrugged.
“Free meal too.”
“You get me, Angel.” He looked up at the ceiling, “Now I need a date outfit. This is too much.”
Angel popped up and plugged his phone into the speaker. "Bet, your majesty!" He started rifling through his closet. "Alright, I need you to magic up some black pantyhose so you can wear this minidress with these boots." He eyed where the dress was half-covering Lucifer’s hooves. "They’ll hide your dainty little goat feet."
Lucifer huffed, dropping the dress right in front of Angel without a hint of shame. "Excuse you!"
Angel didn’t seem to care as he turned to the shorter man, “You’re not Lucifer tonight, babe. You’re Colette. What kind of demon is she? A sinner, I’m imagining.”
“Well, yeah, I can’t exactly just be in a rehabilitation hotel as a Hellborn.”
“Then do subtle changes. You can, in fact, shapeshift, yeah?” He gestures to Lucifer’s face, “Change some of your face so you’re not recognizable up close.”
Lucifer hums thoughtfully, approaching the mirror. He slowly alters his features; his nose shifts into a sharper, more downturned angle, giving his face a subtle, aristocratic sharpness. His pupils swell, nearly eclipsing the irises, lending him an otherworldly intensity. The faint spots on his cheeks fade away, and golden hair spills down past his shoulders, thick and glossy. He studies his reflection, tilting his head from side to side, then softens his nose, smoothing it into a delicate, doe-like shape. As he concentrates, velvety, pale-furred doe ears unfurl from his hair, twitching experimentally. Through it all, he chooses to keep the long, flowing blonde hair, letting it frame his new features.
He turns to Angel, who did not look impressed, “Yeah? Gonna add a tail too?”
Lucifer smiled, “Right!” He snaps his fingers, and a fluffy little deer tail pops on his tailbone.
“…Right.”
In the end, Lucifer is in a sleek black matte minidress with bold red accents tracing the seams and hem, the fabric hugging his frame and ending mid-thigh. His legs are encased in sheer black pantyhose, making them look even longer, and the brown boots reach just below his knees, their heels adding a little extra height. Angel, grinning, drapes a hooded shawl over Lucifer’s shoulders, a deep, wine-colored velvet that catches the light. He explains that Lucifer can let the shawl "accidentally" slip back to reveal the delicate, furred ears peeking through the golden hair. The ensemble is dramatic but not gaudy, striking a perfect balance between mysterious elegance and playful mischief.
“You are ready, I guess.” Angel sighs, “Enjoy your free and probably last meal.”
“Shut up, and I will!” He kicks his foot as he leaves the room to meet Alastor in the lobby.