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The Devil's Nest, Tuesday Night

It was Tuesday, and the Devil was done sleeping off the weekend. It had been an inspiring one, especially near the end, as one could tell by the music flowing from his piano right now.

Well, maybe it had been that, and 'googling how to make anaemic pop palatable'.

Either way, you could kind of tell what he was playing if you squinted.

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Octavia reached for his arm, to put her hand on it.

"Maybe tell me, next time you're stuck choosing between those?" she suggested, quietly.

"You were barely even vocal, Tavi," Duke said quietly. "I'm not going to make you deal with me when you're barely able to deal with yourself."

Octavia gave his arm a little squeeze.

"But haven't we kind of made a pact to deal with each other?" she tried.

Duke let out a slow breath and nodded. "I -- I'll try, alright? But . . . I'm still not used to it. Letting other people in."

"Me neither."

That was not news, Octavia.

She shifted that last bit closer and leaned against his side, lightly. "And I should've told you to... hold me or something, but I didn't."

Because she was still trying to learn that, too.

"That's hard for you," Duke said. "I know that. What's -- what's the difference between trying to help and trying fix?"

"Well, if we take my inability to say I want a hug..." Octavia said, completely failing to hit the wry tone she'd been going for and ending up just mild instead.

She paused for a thought. And wound her arm slowly around his back.

"Trying to help is something like asking if I want something like that. Or offering it." Tiny shrug. "And I think trying to fix is more like... Trying to find something that'll magically make me not need anything like that in the first place. Taking on way too big a burden when you could just be doing a small thing."

Duke leaned into her grip. "Yeah, alright. I guess that makes sense."

Octavia leaned further into it, herself.

"You're not responsible for my happiness, jaka," she said, quietly. "Or anyone else's."

"Yeah, I know." Knowing and knowing were just two different things.

"And you don't have to entertain."

Duke squeezed his eyes shut, too long to be a wince.

"Yeah." It came out forced. "I know."

Yeah, Octavia was going to try tugging him into an actual hug, now.

"You really haven't been told this enough."

Duke let out a bitter laugh, turning into the hug. "And way too many people have told me the other thing."

Octavia wrapped her arms tightly around him.

(Sorry about the obnoxious and apparently inevitable clinginess happening at the bar again, Lucifer.)

"Screw them," she said. "They don't know what they're missing."

"Of course not," Duke said into her hair. "I'm a catch."

"Even when you're not doing anything at all," Octavia murmured.

"Yeah?" Duke asked, feeling all of eight years old. "Swega klin?"

Octavia looked up at him. She wanted so badly to cup his cheek with her hand, right now, and so she was grateful her hands were already behind his back. She could put the urge towards rubbing a circle there, instead.

"Even when you're sleeping," she murmured, with conviction. "Ai swega klin, deimeika."

Yeah.

The joke-not-joke about being naked when he was sleeping so of course he was a catch then died on his lips at the nickname.

Instead he just leaned down to kiss her as thoroughly as the awareness of being in a public place would allow.

"Mochof, natshana. Ai hod yu in."

Turned out Octavia could still break out the nicknames when the need for them was dire enough. Maybe they'd get easier, now.

"Ai hod yu in, seintaim."

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The Devil's Nest, Tuesday Night

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