XXXII
The cups of chai grew sticky on the countertop of Lucky’s penthouse, the shoes were tucked up by the front door, and Lucky stood in the doorway of his bathroom with his robe on and hair damp.
They’d spent a few hours walking, talking about their new assignments, the pickleball craze, and Charlie’s little house.
Lucky had told him about his mother, about how he’d grown closer with some of his siblings, and gushed about how well Greed was running.
He’d admitted he liked his new job, and got so excited talking about it they had to detour to Hell HQ so Lucky could show Charlie the renovations.
The hellhound had to be sent up in the freight lift because the beast no longer fit in the regular elevator, but Luke and John were used to it since Lucky never left home without the fierce protector by his side.
He’d told Charlie that his health wasn’t entirely back to normal, and possibly never would be.
Anxiety still had a hold on him, and he’d damaged his fire to the point he needed regular care and weekends off to rest. The hellhound had become a sort of service dog for him.
A bad one, but it tried. Keeping him safe and warning him of possible fainting spells, Luke and John were always aware before he was, so he’d formed a strong bond with the behemoth.
It resulted in the hound growing to the size it had.
The more it had to protect, the bigger it grew, and Lucky was nothing if not a spectacular specimen in height and build.
Charlie admired the office renovations and the new wooden shelves that had replaced the boring metal ones, the hardwood floors and portable fireplace by the prince’s desk to keep him warm.
It felt expensive and retro, and Charlie liked it.
The little human lost his mind when he saw an antique green banker lamp on the desk he’d used to work at, and Lucky noted that he’d refused to get rid of Charlie’s things.
It was just as he’d left it, with his chili pepper mug on its coaster waiting for him to come back.
That leather Bible and golden pin the prince had gifted the priest sat under the warm glow of the light.
The framed selfie they’d taken up at Limbo was placed just so, looking back at Lucky from across the way with smiles from the not-so-distant past. It kept the prince going.
The hour had grown late by the time they’d made it back to the penthouse and New Year’s Eve celebrations were underway despite the weather.
After finishing a shower and taking his medications, Lucky messaged Lucius since he had a feeling his older sibling had known about the reunion—possibly had a part to play in making it happen—and promised he’d get them a list of supplies to order once he actually looked around since he’d been distracted.
The last thing he wanted was to get in trouble with Lucius.
Luke and John had passed out on the foot of the bed, tuckered out from the exciting walk.
A walk that had also been traumatizing when Charlie saw his pup eat three people.
Lucky had let the dog do as it pleased in the year since Charlie had left.
The prince had to try and calm him down and explain what had happened so the human wouldn’t blame him for ruining his sweet hound.
Charlie looked at him suspiciously, seemingly having forgotten about Lucky mentioning right off the bat that hellhounds ate people.
In his defense, though, Charlie had basically been a zombie, had just been fired, and was bawling his eyes out during that moment.
It seemed he’d understood after he spent some time reminiscing about the secret walks, the private dog-sitter, and how Lucky hadn’t ever given it more than bones to chew on.
He didn’t seem to like it, but Luke and John were happy as could be so he didn’t bring it up again.
Charlie sat on the bed in one of Lucky’s old shirts that the prince had to cut holes in for the new wings, holding that smutty book in his hands and giggling with the thick covers over his lap. His halo was spinning with excitement.
“Enjoying yourself?” Lucky asked.
“Yes! I didn’t get to finish this book before I left, and I couldn’t find it on Earth so I was bummed out. I can’t believe you kept it,” Charlie replied.
“I kept everything. All of your clothes are in the closet in a drawer, I even kept the fridge stocked with black olives and that horrible cheese you like… just in case.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, I’ve eaten so many sandwiches this year. I eventually had to open your apartment up for rent so I made sure all of your belongings were brought over. I like the way you look in my shirt, though.”
Charlie blushed and brought the book close to his face to hide behind.
Lucky snickered and turned down some of the lights.
It was late, and he knew he’d need to be up early to get the rent handled before heading to Limbo for work, so he climbed into bed.
Luke moved its head on top of Lucky’s feet like it did every night.
Before he settled in, the prince grabbed the half-full glass of celebratory wine he’d set down earlier and sipped it.
He extended his arm, and Charlie snuggled up next to him, still focused on the book as he went.
The devious devil began dancing his fingers along Charlie’s arm.
“So…” Lucky mused.
“So?” Charlie questioned.
“Are you… in the mood?”
“What kind of mood?’
Lucky groaned. Charlie gasped.
“Oh! Um… no. Sorry,” Charlie whispered.
“Hey, no worries. I just wanted to ask ’cause… well—” he gestured to the bed— “this is kind of intimate.”
Charlie set the book down and gazed around for a second, as if the fact that he was in nothing but a t-shirt and they were in bed together while he was reading literal demon and priest smut hadn’t occurred to him. Knowing Charlie, it probably hadn’t.
“Oh, I guess you’re right. I mean, I wouldn’t say no—”
“No, no, we’re not forcing anything. I’m fine with waiting, I promise.”
“Good! Cause, um…” Charlie leaned forward and set his hand in front of his face to whisper, as if someone would overhear. “We aren’t married.”
“That’s what you’re worried about?”
“It would be wrong!”
Lucky’s mouth gaped open. He blinked slowly, then let out a huff of disbelief before he broke out laughing.
He nearly spilt the wine as he shifted, so he set the glass down.
He gave Charlie a soft kiss on the cheek before he set his head in his hand, propping himself up on his elbow to look at the fledgling angel who seemingly couldn’t believe the audacity.
“You’re ridiculous, and I missed you,” Lucky whispered.
“You aren’t disappointed?” Charlie asked.
“Never. It’ll happen when it happens… Hopefully ‘when’ is soonish because I haven’t had any action since before you died the first time, but I don’t want to rush you.
It needs to be special. Oh! I could rent a room at a hotel on Lust!
I could ask Lie for recommendations, but then again I’m not sure I want to do it in a room she’s been in.
And she’s done it everywhere. Hmm… We could be bad and do it in the supply closet in the Limbo office!
Or on my desk! You have no idea how hot that would be! And you could bend me over—”
Lucky’s rambling was cut off by Charlie kissing him. The prince huffed out a small plume of smoke as they parted. The angel closed the book and set it on the nightstand before he curled up in Lucky’s arms.
“It’s nice to see you happy,” Charlie said. “You were so sad before I left, so stressed. It’s amazing to see you’ve found your fire again.”
“And I’m glad you got your halo and your happy ending,” Lucky replied.
Charlie pursed his lips for a second before he put his hand up again to hide his words. It was ridiculous, and Lucky loved it.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to hand stuff… later. Tomorrow is too important so we should get some sleep. Maybe once I finish my book I’ll feel inspired,” Charlie said sweetly.
“Whenever you’re ready. But I am demanding a make out session, you owe me that much.”
Charlie extended his hand to seal it. “Deal.”
Lucky tackled Charlie to the bed with playful growls as he started kissing him.
Charlie giggled as the covers flew everywhere and Lucky clicked off the light.
Luke and John whined and hopped off the mattress.
Somehow, making out was the best damn thing the prince had ever done in this big ass bed of his, and he knew it would only get better with time.