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The club was awful.
Michael usually wasn't one to show his displeasure outwardly, but he couldn't help but sneer in disgust as he pushed through the crowd. Sweaty flesh with too little fabric to cover it was pressed up against him, the strobing lights made it impossible to find his way, and the overbearingly loud music made his head pound. It felt as if his skull was being cracked open by the sheer noise, and he groaned as he shoved another person out of his way.
He muttered curses under his breath as he pushed through towards the back of the club, promising a long and painful punishment to everyone who crossed his path. Usually this club in particular wasn't the worst place he would have to go, as it wasn't very popular. The crowd would usually keep to the dancefloor and the bar, so he could usually follow the circular wall until he got to the stage without needing to rub up against the drunkards there. But tonight there was a new artist performing. One with a mediocre fanbase in Michael's opinion, but certainly more impressive than the bar's patrons were used to, so tonight it was overly crowded. The air was sticky to breathe in, contaminated with alcohol and drugs. He shuddered, yet pushed through, until he finally found the curtain at the corner of the stage.
The stage was carved out of black wood and curtains, a small, rather dingy affair. It was worn down by heels and spilled drinks and misplaced music equipment, yet still standing proudly. Michael paid it no mind and instead swept the curtain in the corner out of the way. The metal door, painted black like the rest of the stage, might seem off putting but it yielded immediately when Michael pushed at it. The owner never kept it locked, so anyone could come and go however they pleased. He would have sneered at the subpar security if it wasn't so useful to him, easily allowing him entry to the backstage area. He climbed the metal stairs, enjoying the relative silence here, where the club music was muffled.
Laughter led him in the right direction, towards the performers' dressing room. He never bothered learning the layouts of the places he went to during missions like this, because there was no point with it. The laughter always led him to the right place. None of the other people backstage, carrying speakers back and forth and hooking up electrical equipment, never laughed. So he stepped around them, following the laugh, and finally found his destination.
The dressing room, not that anyone in their right mind would use it as such since the door was missing, was a small and claustrophobic thing. A mirror with a spider web of cracks, together with a table for makeup, a single chair and a couch, was all that the space offered. Evidence of other occupants were everywhere, from the stains on the couch to the smears on the table and a crack in the wall. Yet the two occupants seemed pleased. Stuff had been dumped everywhere, laying claim to every surface offered, and the two were stretched out on the couch like the king and queen of this small kingdom.
Lilith was already in her stage clothes, a black dress that was supposed to give an elegantly edgy vibe, her black lipstick smudged in the corners of her mouth and her eyes half-lidded, heavy from the liberal amount of eyeshadow. She smiled at Lucifer who was lying in her arms. He was most certainly not dressed the same he had been when he left the house earlier, the sensible white and burgundy traded for a black ensemble with too many holes and too much fishnet. He was resting his head against Lilith's chest with his eyes closed, showcasing his own eyeshadow, and facing the door so Michael could see the smudges of Lilith's black lipstick over his mouth.
Lilith was the first to notice Michael, a sharp look sent his way as her arms tightened around Lucifer. As if she had any right to keep him. Michael ignored her.
"Lucifer", he said. Lucifer groaned, and pushed his face into Lilith's chest, hiding from him.
"Nooo", he whined, the word drawn out and slurred. Great, so he was drunk. Again.
"Oh for the love of..." Michael grumbled, walking into the room. "Seriously, Lucifer? Don't tell me you forgot we're supposed to accompany Father tomorrow. Or did you get drunk on purpose so you can pretend you're sick again?"
"'mnot drunk", Lucifer protested. Michael rolled his eyes at the obvious lie.
"Lay off him, Michael", Lilith snapped at him. "Must you always be the family guard dog?"
He, generously, ignored her comment and instead grabbed the back of Lucifer's collar. Lucifer let out a confused noise at the sudden pressure at his neck as Michael lifted straight up, pulling him from Lilith's arms and up from the couch. He clumsily reached for Lilith, but Michael was quicker and pulled him away from her. Lucifer seemed to have forgotten he had legs, because even when Michael was holding him in the air above the floor Lucifer still made no move to get standing, instead landing heavily on his back as Michael dropped him. He groaned in pain, but made no other movements, not even opening his eyes.
"Hey!" Lilith sprung from the couch, reaching for Lucifer to help him up from the floor. Michael swatted her away.
"Get up, already, Lucifer. You're coming home now, and that's final, you know that. Stop stalling."
"'m up", Lucifer said, just as convincingly as when he tried to say he wasn't drunk. Michael rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration.
"Lulu? You okay?" Lilith asked, sitting by Lucifer's side and rubbing his shoulder.
"He's just drunk", Michael sighed.
"He's not! He only had one drink, he never gets like this after one drink. Something's wrong."
Lilith turned her eyes up to him, and Michael could almost believe the worry in her eyes were genuine. If he didn't know better. If he didn't know her.
But he did.
Lilith was a bad influence, and a good liar. She was manipulative, easily fooling people with her words. But Michael wasn't easily fooled, and he remembered how she had tried so hard to seem like a proper woman only to bring Lucifer to places like these. She could pretend to care all she wanted, but Michael didn’t buy it.
"Lucifer, get up or I swear I will drag you out", Michael said. Lilith's gaze hardened, dropping the almost pleading look, as if she had been expecting him to believe her.
"I told you, something's wrong! He needs help, not being dragged off so you can lock him up in the house!"
"All he needs is a hangover cure."
"Told you, 'm up", Lucifer mumbled, still lying on the floor. Michael sighed loudly, reached down and grabbed Lucifer by the shoulders. His brother was rather light, so usually Michael could lift him around without issues. He had even thrown Lucifer over his shoulder once, to endless protests and fists hitting his back. But those times Lucifer had been conscious, and making an effort to keep himself standing. Now he was little more than a ragdoll, limbs heavy and barely moving. Michael grunted with effort, having to take a new grip to keep Lucifer from tipping to the side, but finally managed to pull him up enough to stand. Once he had his feet on the ground Lucifer seemed to remember he had them, and he was finally standing on his own. Even then it was so unbalanced that Michael had to keep an arm around his waist to keep him from falling, and even then he was swaying back and forth.
This was different from how Lucifer usually was when he was drunk. Lucifer was usually a loud, happy drunk. When he was drunk he usually had the energy of a five year old, unable to sit still, often up dancing and laughing. He had never been so limp before, so unbalanced and dizzy, not even when Michael had seen him at his worst, like the time he tried mixing red bull and tequila. How could he possibly have reached this state during the short amount of time he'd been here?
"Michael", Lilith said, bringing his attention back to her. She was standing a step back from them, as Michael had swatted her away every time she had tried to help with getting Lucifer up. Now she was standing with her arms around herself and once more that worry was back in her eyes as she looked at Lucifer.
"Look, I know... I know we don't like each other, and that you don't trust me. But you know this isn't right. I swear, he only had one drink, and even if he was drunk, he wouldn't be like this. I'm worried. Something's wrong. Just... be kind to him." She looked up at him properly now, staring into his eyes. "Please."
Lilith had never begged Michael for anything. 'Please' wasn't a word she had ever uttered around him, not even to be polite. She didn't waste words on him, her dislike for him audible in her angry silences and sharp glares. They had never seen eye to eye, not even when Lucifer had tried to introduce them back in the beginning, when Lilith had still tried to win Lucifer's family over. That she spoke the words now meant she truly was serious about this. She really was worried.
Contrary to what Lilith believed, Michael actually was a good diplomat. Being the oldest meant having to take responsibility for his siblings, and he had learned quickly how to work around their thickheadedness and rebellious phases. Just because he didn't budge when it came to his twin didn't mean he couldn't see the path of least resistance laid out in front of him. Lilith was offering a way for them to come to terms at least once. Agreeing with her was the easiest way to get Lucifer out of this place with minimal arguing and fighting. The best choice was to just go along with what she said.
"This doesn't concern you", he sneered.
Lilith's face hardened into a wall of cold rage, but Michael simply turned away and started pulling Lucifer with him. Lucifer stumbled as they walked, still swaying as if he was on a boat during a storm rather than a perfectly flat floor, but he didn't resist. With a strong grip around Lucifer's waist Michael led him out through the door and turned the corner. Lilith was left behind in the dressing room, nails buried in her arms as she tried to contain her rage enough not to explode at Michael.
Luckily, getting out of the bar was far easier than getting in. He only had to turn two corners before he saw the green fluorescent exit sign over another black metal door. This one was a backdoor that led out into the street rather than out into the club. Michael pushed on the door, and it swung open into the alleyway outside. He stepped over the raised metal threshold, going down the two small steps to the ground, and turned towards Lucifer. But before he could help his sibling down, Lucifer's foot struck the threshold, and he tipped forward. Too gone to comprehend he was falling, Lucifer didn't even try to keep his balance, and fell head first into Michael. His nearly limp body landed hard on Michael, arms hanging motionlessly at his sides. Michael quickly took a secure grip around Lucifer to keep them both standing, one foot stepping backward to accommodate the shift in weight and balance.
"Oh, honestly, Luci", Michael sighed, arms locked around his twin. Lucifer groaned, face pushed up against Michael's neck. His breath was warm against Michael, finding its way in through the collar and brushing against his skin, raising goosebumps in its wake. Michael froze for a moment, arms squeezing harder around Lucifer's body.
"Luci?" he tried, mouth suddenly dry. Lucifer didn't reply, only breathing softly against Michael's neck. A shudder went through Michael's body. Lucifer never acted like this. Not when he was drunk, not ever. Where was his overly energized mess of a brother, and what was this syrupy thing in his arms? Maybe Lilith did have a point. Maybe something really was wrong.
But Lucifer had been fine all day, all until he had left the house to go out with Lilith. He had been fine... until he'd gone to the bar, drinking alcohol prepared by inattentive idiots. And Lucifer was never able to keep his attention off his girlfriend when he was out, he wouldn't have noticed anything wrong with the drink.
Slowly the puzzle pieces clicked into place in Michael's mind, the idea so clear and so repulsive that it made his stomach turn. Lucifer at the bar, talking to someone, laughing, not paying attention to his drink being prepared. Another patron beside him, a sharp look in their eyes and a sick smile, hovering their hand just a little too close to Lucifer's drink. A small splash in the drink, a quick stir with the straw, and it would be dissolved before Lucifer even reached for his drink. Depraved eyes following Lucifer as he walked away, sipping at his drugged drink, completely unaware of what had happened.
"Oh fuck", Michael mumbled as he glanced down at Lucifer, who seemed close to doze off, unable to stand properly and unaware of what was happening around him. "Did you seriously get roofied?"
Lucifer let out a vague noise, but Michael highly doubted Lucifer even understood the question. With a sigh Michael readjusted him, trying to get him into a better position so they could walk to the car together. Lucifer was really out of it though, and the moment Michael's grip eased he slipped to the side, stumbling to keep himself on his feet, only to almost tumble right into the wall. Michael managed to grab him before he hit the dirty, most likely piss-drenched wall, pulling Lucifer back until they were facing once more. The annoyed comment on Michael's tongue melted as he saw the hazy look in Lucifer's eyes and his slightly parted lips. He looked so docile, so soft, so... inviting.
Michael cupped Lucifer's jaw with one hand, gently guiding Lucifer into lifting his head. He followed with no resistance, hazy eyes looking up at Michael. Absolutely out of it. Defenseless and vulnerable. To think that someone had tried to get their hands on Lucifer in this state... Him lying on that filthy couch in the dressing room, too drugged to move, as Lilith was up on stage. A dressing room lacking a door, not allowing any privacy, making it easy for anyone to find him in that state. All of that was prevented, only because Michael had showed up, because he was there to protect his twin, just like always.
"What would you do without me?" Michael asked. Lucifer's eyes remained hazy, even as they struggled to focus. The corner of Michael's mouth tugged up in a smile.
Michael was a smart man. He knew what he wanted was dangerous. There were so many risks about it. If it came out, if others learned about it, everything would crumble. He also wasn’t stupid enough to think that he could do anything about them. He knew what would happen if Lucifer ever knew about the desires he held. It was taboo, and even Lucifer, the little self-proclaimed rebel, would be horrified by it. The only way to keep it a secret was to keep it to himself. No, Michael was smart.
But he wasn't above taking advantage of opportunities presented to him. All alone in a dark, empty alley. Lucifer, drugged with something that was famous for erasing memories of when it was in effect. No one, not even Lucifer, would know this ever happened.
Michael tilted Lucifer's chin up a little further, and kissed him. Soft lips against lips, gentle and lovely. Lucifer's lips remained parted, an invite to deepen the kiss, and Michael took it. He pressed in, tongue reaching out to trace the opening between Lucifer's lips. He savoured it for a moment before he pushed his tongue into Lucifer's mouth. Lucifer choked at it, his jaws stuttering and dangerously close to snapping shut, so Michael pulled his tongue back. Lucifer's hand found Michael's chest, his fingertips clumsily trying to find a grip. Michael gave him one more kiss, then leaned backwards slightly to take in the sight.
Lucifer's face was flushed red, his shoulders shaking with every breath, his lips wet with saliva and an unfocused look in his eyes. So delectable, so debauched. Michael leaned back in again, and Lucifer's grip on him clenched.
"No", Lucifer managed as he tried to lean back against Michael's strong arms, feebly trying to push Michael away. "No... stop..."
"Be quiet", Michael admonished him. Once more he tried to lean in for a kiss and Lucifer turned his head away. Which only offered up his neck, and Michael kissed the skin there, making Lucifer shudder.
"Stop it", he complained. "Don't wanna.... no..."
"It's always about you, isn't it?" Michael snarled, tangling his fingers into Lucifer's hair and forcing his head back down. "How about you think about someone else for a change?"
"S-stop it... no, no..." Lucifer tried again, but with his head held in place he couldn't get away from Michael's mouth pushing in over his own. Even now his lips were slightly parted, and Michael kissed them hard, hoping they would be swollen and bruised later. He traced them with his tongue, and his teeth graced them, giving them small nibbles. Lucifer continued to whimper and tremble, but he couldn't shake his head from Michael's grip. He seemed to have forgotten he had arms, because his hands were unmoving, not even holding on to Michael anymore.
Lucifer's mouth was divine, when he didn't use it to be sassy and spew insults. This was much better. He could only imagine how it would be to put Lucifer's sharp tongue to better use. How much would he have to do for Lucifer to be quiet for once in his life, to be...
Michael pulled back, ending the kiss abruptly. His grip in Lucifer's hair eased and he leaned back, stopping himself before he did something that would be a lot harder to clean up and hide. He surveyed Lucifer with a critical eye. His lips were already swelling, his cheeks flushed red, and his eyes were glossy with tears. His shoulders held a tremble to them, shaking in time with the light sniffles as the tears ran down his cheeks. Lilith would be the explanation for the swollen lips, alcohol the blame for the red cheeks, so all Michael had to do was get Lucifer to stop crying and everything would be fine.
He pulled a handkerchief out from one of his pockets and started wiping Lucifer's tear-stained cheeks with it. Lucifer was still trembling, but it slowly subsided as the drug washed away the memory of why he was crying.
"There you go, Luci. Can't have you looking like a mess when we get back, can we?"
"Mi.. Mi'ha?" Lucifer slurred, trying to focus on Michael. He frowned slightly. "Did you... you kiss me?"
"Of course not", Michael scoffed as he pocketed his handkerchief again. "You're drunk, you're just spouting nonsense. Come on, home it is."
"Oh", was all Lucifer said, quietly accepting the answer. Then his mind gave up, and he slumped against Michael again. Michael wrapped an arm around Lucifer's waist, and once more started leading him away down the alleyway.
Now all they needed was to get to the car so he could take Lucifer home, and this would all be over. In the morning Lucifer would wake up without any memory of Michael even showing up to the club. This little incident was already erased, lost to the world.
Lucifer let out a small hiccup, and Michael glanced down at his brother with a smile. This was a secret that was his to keep.
This had never happened.
---
The room was still. The only thing that broke the silence was the rhythmic tapping of fingernails against the tabletop. She sat completely still, staring down at her phone, only her fingers dancing out the melody on the makeup table. On her screen the same video kept looping, the audio of it a soundtrack to the thoughts spinning in her head. She simply stared at the screen, watching the video continue to loop, without truly seeing it.
Hands at the wrong places. Bodies too close. A one-sided conversation with someone who couldn't respond.
Lips against lips.
She had photos too. Photos of harsh grips, bites and teardrops running down cheeks. Evidence upon evidence upon evidence. There was enough here to ruin, if she wanted to.
But the triumph was undercut by the sheer terror of what had happened. She didn't know if the video caught it, despite watching it over and over, but she could still hear the words that had been uttered in the alley. She had heard the "no"s, the "stop"s, the "don't"s. They were burned into her brain, the knowledge of what had happened impossible to escape, no matter if it got caught on camera or not.
Overwhelming disgust, both towards the one in the footage and herself. Disgust at someone who would do such things, and disgust at herself for not stepping in. She could have said something, should have done something. Instead she had pulled out her phone to record.
But the feelings had burned themselves out inside her. Nothing came through, as if they had cancelled each other out, leaving her a numb, hollow husk. She simply sat there, staring at her phone.
Several times her hand had moved to send the photos to Lucifer. He deserved to know.
But she didn't.
Several times her hand had moved to delete the photos, to hopefully erase them from her memory as well.
But she didn't.
She stared.
Her hand moved. She selected one of the photos, and tapped out the contact she wanted to send it to. She watched as her phone opened up a new conversation for her, the contact being unused until now, and saw the photo prepared to be sent. Her finger hovered over the send button.
"Lilith?"
The voice, followed by a knock on the doorframe, brought Lilith back to reality. She tore her gaze from the phone and glanced over. A brown-haired woman was standing there, adjusting the frame of her glasses as she looked at her curiously. Eve, her friend and, basically, manager. It wasn't an official title, but Eve had come to just about every performance Lilith had, and people seemed to be more comfortable approaching her to book a gig for Lilith than coming to Lilith herself. Now Eve was smiling at her, happy to have her attention.
"They're ready for you! Owner's been bugging me to get you on stage. Says people don't buy enough alcohol if they don't have a reason to stay."
"I'll be right there", Lilith rose from the chair, phone in her hand. She glanced down at the screen one last time, saw the photo displayed, and the contact name. Her gaze lingered on Michael's name for a moment, before her thumb hit the send button.
After the performance she would send a couple more photos, none of the best ones of course, just to show she had more. Then, after he'd been sweating for a bit, she'd send him the bill for her silence. When she had the money, enough for her to find an apartment big enough for two, she would let Lucifer know. He would burn the whole place down, and when it was done the two of them could go looking for a nice apartment to live in together, away from his shitty family. Where they could finally be just them, living together with a cat, away from their current situations and without having to pretend to anyone.
But that was for later.
For now she had a performance to do, and a man's life to ruin.