fandomtownies | PARTY!, The Beach, Saturday Night

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PARTY!, The Beach, Saturday Night

The beach looked like someone had thrown an entire Pinterest board at it.

Strings of lights were strung between elegant poles, lighting up a fair portion of the beach (with the help of a few carefully-disguised generators, mind you). Large, stylized pots contained such multitudes of jasmine and lavender that at first glance they appeared to be bushes, instead - Seivarden's one contribution to the party.

Delicate paper screens carved the beach up into zones. Beach-classy lounge furniture sat on the sand, from chairs to sofas to even a bed or two. One corner held a stack of sheets, for anyone who didn't think bathing suits were appropriate eveningwear ('Togas encouraged!', the final Instagram post had said). Lucifer had supplied a ridiculous cooking setup for Duke in one corner, and a large bar ('open bar!' said the sign by it) stocked with almost every kind of alcohol known to man sat on the opposite side.

Even the water seemed to roll in like it figured it was part of an Instagram music video of some kind.

Seivarden had demanded a good party. And Lucifer had standards.

That it was extremely hot, that everyone had lost most of their wardrobe? That wasn't going to stand in the way of a bloody good party. There were ice cubes! Lucifer had brought a special freezer for extra ice cubes!

... and since it was Lucifer, no, he hadn't noticed the Truth Day thing yet.

[[ party! ]]

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"No," Duke said cheerfully. "Not particularly. I am planning to look into some new meditation techniques, though. See if I can keep from totally losing myself to this crap next time Octavia decides I look like a weapon."

. . . Ah. Shit. He definitely thought there'd be a next time on that.

Short pause. "You should probably not start factoring this in, Duke."

"Easier said, Luce." He frowned down at his feet. "She took my control away. I don't -- know how to deal with that. I pride myself on my self-control."

"Well, far be it from me to stop a man convinced he can somehow learn to control everything," Lucifer said.

Hey, sarcasm still worked.

Edited 2020-07-12 16:37 (UTC)

"Not everything. Just me. I should be able to control myself at least."

"Do you have any relatives left or something?" Lucifer asked, eyeing thing. "Because this isn't something you can just cut off."

"Brothers," Duke said. "A few of them. Bunch of dicks. Really don't want to deal with them right now, though."

"Would they even know anything?" Lucifer asked, frowning.

This would all be so much easier if Duke had any idea of how to leave well enough alone every now and again.

Yeah, Duke really wasn't very good at that.

"As far as I know, they didn't spend any more time around Dad than I did. Less, since they didn't live with him. So. I'm guessing not."

"So, to sum up, you're certain Octavia will do this again, you're going to go back to the way things were anyway, and in the meantime, you're going to torture yourself relentlessly until you figure out how to stop going murder-happy," Lucifer said. "Did I get all of it?"

Duke barked out a laugh. "Yeah, that covers it pretty well. I'm also probably going to beat myself up for not being able to make her happy despite whatever the fuck happened to her in that bunker."

"I would not want to be stuck in your cell in Hell if you wind up there," Lucifer said, shaking his head. "I hope you do know how bloody stupid all of that is."

"Sometimes," Duke said, nodding. "And I definitely hate myself for being so stubborn about it. So, you know, add that to the pile of reasons."

"You really need to talk to Linda whenever I can get her back on the bloody phone," Lucifer sighed. "This is compulsive behavior. And self-destructive, while we're naming psychological sins."

"When that happens, Octavia definitely gets to go first." Duke sighed. ". . . I wonder if Haven has a Dr. Linda. No one back there ever likes to talk about the troubles, but -- I mean, surely someone has tried to deal with them in a psychologically healthy way."

"No 'going first', if you find someone, you both need to go," Lucifer said. Pointedly. "You don't get to hero complex your way out of this one, you idiot pirate."

"I'm still not admitting this is a hero complex," Duke said. "That doesn't fit the way I've convinced myself I'm a villain at all."

"I don't care," Lucifer said, eyes getting a little feverishly bright now. "That's something to discuss with the therapist you are going to march your spectacular arse to the first chance you get."

Duke smiled. "I like it when you talk about my ass. Let's talk more about that and not this uncomfortable shit."

"I'm sorry, but you lost the right to deflect with your arse when you decided to go monogamous," Lucifer told him. A pause, as his mind unwittingly flitted towards a now-distant memory. "Well, single exception notwithstanding."

"I'm really hoping that won't be just a single exception," Duke said. "And I will deflect with whatever I want. Just, you know. Probably not successfully."

"Get. Therapy," Lucifer informed him. "And when you two have your heads screwed on at least 15 degrees back in the right direction, we can talk exceptions."

Beat.

"Or before that if either of you puts your back into it, I've never claimed to have impulse control."

". . . You know, I can't even tell if this truth telling thing is having an effect on you? You really are as honest as you say you are, huh."

"Yes," Lucifer said, exasperated, "I am. Thank you for noticing."

He brought up his glass and only then remembered it was empty.

"Though the whole truth... thing has made tonight vexing, to say the least."

"Because we keep moping all over you?" Duke guessed. "I saw you chatting with Tavi, earlier. I can't imagine her truth was any nicer than mine. Considerably worse, probably."

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