betterthanaplan | The Cape Rouge, Port of Fandom, Sunday evening

Duke wasn't usually one to put much stock into holidays like Valentine's Day. Last year's had very nearly been a disaster, for instance. But Octavia was clearly feeling a little extra in-the-dumps right now, and Lucifer had sent him an enormous, gorgeous, queer bouquet, and Duke felt inspired.

He spent the day setting it up. Went through his hold and pulled out all the plushest, richest fabrics he could find. Fuzzy blankets and brocade curtains and lots of soft Persian rugs. He draped his galley, transforming the usually cool, open space full of hard surfaces into something warm and exotic, like the interior of a Mongolian yurt. He lit the space with candles and oil lamps and paper lanterns, and set Lucifer's bouquet prominently on the coffee table. To eat, he had berries and chocolate and oysters rockefeller, with wine and absinthe and some other items to help them all relax and feel good. There were soft cushions everywhere (including the stuffed shark and sun and moon pillows from last year's pillow forts, with the inclusion of a little velvet star-shaped cushion he'd picked up on a whim), and even a few vintage furs.

It was, he felt, about as cozy and warm and romantic (and hopefully not too fish scented) as his boat was going to get. Now all he needed were his partners.

He sent Lucifer a text (come over, bring octavia), figuring Octavia wouldn't rouse easily on her own, then settled in to wait, and second guess every single choice he'd made in decorating, worrying it would come across as too much.

He distracted himself with his guitar to keep from trying to tear it all down again, and waited.

[for the guests!]

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From:

okteiviakom

In retrospect, Octavia could have used at least one of those hands for sitting down with any sort of grace, instead of just plonking her ass onto the bench like she did, but whatever.

She had enough trouble caring about much more important things, it was fine.

From:

betterthanaplan

Duke didn’t expect grace from her. Or speech or even much interaction tonight. It was enough, for now, that she was here. That she was letting him hold her hand. He took it in both of his now, gently massaging her palm, wondering at the texture of her skin.

(The molly as maybe starting to kick in, yes.)

“Some of ‘em are once a week,” he said distractedly. “Some are less. Or more. And they need, like, this kind of soul or that much sunlight, and I have enough trouble just keeping the porgs alive. And they do most of the work themselves.”

From:

my_own_advocate

"Yes, thank you for letting me know how to take care of the many plants I have in my home," Lucifer said, audibly amused.

He'd be right there with Duke if he'd taken the second one, but alas, for him, it would take a while longer.

From:

okteiviakom

And there was more than one texture to Octavia's palm, at that. You didn't spend years wielding a sword and not end up with calloused skin.

She leaned back, quietly watching Duke work at her hand.

Quietly listening.

From:

betterthanaplan

There was! And Duke loved the calluses as much as the rest of her hand. They were rough but somehow also soft, and he suddenly had the urge to press his lips to them.

So he did.

From:

my_own_advocate

~~if he'd taken the THIRD one, not the second, wtf self~~

"I think the drugs hit someone," Lucifer mused, and shifted. Something kept digging into his-- Oh, right. He pulled the bag out of his back pocket. "Before these get smushed," he said, tossing it onto the table.

Maybe he should just grab that third one after all.

From:

okteiviakom

No one had asked him not to. So there was that.

Octavia glanced towards the bag - following movement, again - but looked back to Duke. Curled her fingers a little, to brush against his jaw.

From:

betterthanaplan

Duke shut his eyes and hummed, turning his head just slightly back and forth. Feeling the way that brush tickled his beard.

"Your hands are so soft."

Yeah, the drugs had absolutely kicked in.

From:

my_own_advocate

Lucifer snorted. "Fine, you've convinced me," he said to no one in particular, and reached to snag a third one out of the bag.

It was no fun being sober when someone else was tripping.

From:

okteiviakom

Octavia was still watching Duke. Thinking about how it should've felt more like something, that she should've been snorting and calling him her tripi hef again, that she was here with her two favorite people in this space that Duke had put together for the three of them, and it should've felt more like something.

She felt more than she would have earlier this week, to be sure. But...

Still.

From:

betterthanaplan

Duke looked up at her through his lashes, his hands and face still pressed to her hand.

She looked . . . lost. He wished more than anything that he could wipe that look off her face, but knew he couldn't. He'd officially pulled out all the stops here, after all, and she still looked wrecked.

If only he hadn't freaked out about that key thing. She'd been okay before that.

Fortunately, the molly had him distracted again before he could spiral fully into a one man blame fest. He kissed her palm again, then turned to Lucifer, still hanging onto her with one hand as he reached for Lucifer's sleeve.

"Lemme see if that shirt's as soft as it looks, too."

From:

my_own_advocate

"It should be," Lucifer said, grinning as he held his arm out. "It's Egyptian cotton."

From:

okteiviakom

Octavia took the opportunity, with Duke's reaching, to lean her head lightly against his shoulder.

Easiest way to hide her face from him. She'd seen him looking, and knew he hadn't found what he'd wanted.

From:

betterthanaplan

Duke rubbed the fabric, then startled slightly when her head hit his shoulder. He smiled, then tilted his head to lean it against hers.

Oh, her hair felt nice, too. "Your hair's like Egyptian cotton," he said. "Oh wow, I'm rolling hard."

From:

my_own_advocate

"And quickly, as well," Lucifer said, laughing softly. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

From:

okteiviakom

"I hope you are," Octavia murmured.

When had she even spoken last?

From:

betterthanaplan

“Mmhmmmm,” Duke hummed. “You two should be too.” Then he grimaced, and rubbed his head against Octavia’s. “But you don’t have to.”

He was trying very hard not to make her feel pressured to do anything tonight.

From:

my_own_advocate

"For Father's sake, Duke, relax," Lucifer said. That came out a sigh. Some chemical somewhere was doing something. "She'll do as she wishes, you don't need to tell her that."

Edited Date: 2021-02-15 05:21 pm (UTC)

From:

okteiviakom

"'S true," Octavia muttered, leaning against Duke a little more.

From:

betterthanaplan

"Sorry," Duke said, and he was, much more so than the situation required. "I just -- I know 'happy' isn't in the cards, but I want you to be comfortable."

From:

my_own_advocate

Lucifer sighed, and gave Octavia's hand a little squeeze, moving aside just a bit to lean against her more, himself.

From:

okteiviakom

"And I want you to focus on something else."

Feeling things just enough to feel bad about not feeling good enough to keep him happy... was not really where she wanted this evening to keep veering towards.

From:

betterthanaplan

Duke let out a little rueful laugh and nodded. (And then kept moving his head, because did he mention her hair felt really nice?) "Sha, gona. So, uh. Why's Egyptian cotton so nice, anyway?"

From:

my_own_advocate

Well, that saved Lucifer from having to smack Duke upside the head. "You'd think a smuggler would know," he said, amused. "Much longer threads and higher thread count than regular cotton. And it's heavily regulated to make sure it's extra soft."

He pressed a kiss against Octavia's shoulder.

From:

okteiviakom

"Is it durable?"

Let's face it, Octavia's ability to contribute to the conversation was half relief that Duke was striving to talk about something other than her, and half being a seamstress's daughter.

One brought the motivation, the other something to actually say.