okteiviakom | The Cape Rouge, Wednesday Morning

It was morning. It was an early morning. Ish. In winter.

Lucifer felt wakefullness prodding at the back of his head, and ignored it, turning over to burrow into Duke more properly.

The first thing Duke noticed as he drifted towards wakefulness was that he was very warm and cozy.

The second thing was much weirder.

". . . Is that an earthquake?" he muttered, not quite willing to open his eyes and properly look around yet. See above, re being warm and cozy.

"It's the boat."

... The boat. That was it, that was one thing. Octavia turned her head, caught a bit of Duke's profile.

That was another thing.

"Did -- how much did I drink last night?"

". . . Boat?" Duke asked. He cracked an eye open and then pushed upright in shock.

He'd been facing a man's profile, but that was a woman's voice. He was absolutely going to Hell.

"Um. I don't know what's going on here, but I think somebody got the wrong idea."

Crap, was he naked?

"Was'n goin'-- on," Lucifer mumbled.

He hadn't parsed a single word of that, and he was quite used to the boat.

Octavia had been all set to tell Duke there was really just the one idea anyone was likely to have, and that also yes, he was naked, but then --

Third thing.

"Lucifer?"

“And Octavia,” Duke said to the ceiling. “Naked with me on a boat. The old man is definitely rolling over in his grave.”

"Since when do we care what he thinks," Lucifer mumbled, eyes still closed.

Octavia pointed at Lucifer. "Gonna agree with him on that one."

Mostly because she needed something solid to grab onto as she tried to understand what was going on.

"The fuck do you two know about my dad?" Duke asked, sitting up and keeping the sheet primly tucked around his waist as he tried to look for some pants.

Lucifer finally opened one eye and squinted up at him quizzically. "What on Earth are you doing?" he said. "It's too early for this, stay in bed."

He had no idea what time it was. It felt early.

"Uh, you and me have definitely had more than a few beers over dads," Octavia pointed out to Duke.

A little bit offended, actually.

"What?" Duke frowned at her. "You and I have barely said three words to each other. And that's counting vague grunts from you." He shook his head, trying to drape the sheet around himself as he crawled for the end of the bed. "And also I don't drink, so . . . nice try."

Lucifer sat up a bit, continuing to stare at him with bleary, confused eyes. Until--

"Oh, Me," he groaned. "You're both Fandom-scrambled again."

"Both?" Octavia replied, finally pushing herself up to sitting, and far less concerned about modesty than Duke seemed to be. "Don't you mean him?"

Sure, everything else was completely normal.

"You're actually speaking in complete sentences," Duke said, climbing off the end of the bed. "So I'm going to guess he means you." He frowned, tilting his head thoughtfully at Lucifer as he tied off the newly fashioned sheet toga (sorry anyone else trying to maintain any modesty). "Wait. You want us in bed. You're used to waking up with both of us, naked, on a boat?"

"Speaking in complete sentences and apparently drinking heavily, which my Octavia prefers not to because of her anti-depressants," Lucifer sighed, flinging an arm over his eyes. "And you might as well not bother covering up, considering real you and I have been sleeping together for the past nearly-two-years, so I'm quite familiar with the sight of your pretty naked arse."

"And this is your boat," Octavia added, because the boat apparently being a big sticking point for Duke was turning into a big sticking point for her. He was the boat guy, come on, everyone knew that!

And once she'd managed to get that out of the way, some of the rest of what Lucifer had said finally broke through, so now she was staring at him -- or, his arm. Whatever she could see of his face. Whichever.

"'Your Octavia'?"

"I don't have a boat," Duke protested. "I hate the water."

The water was potentially full of Glendower men who wanted to murder him like they had his biological father.

"Anyway, I definitely haven't slept with either of you. Pretty sure I'd remember that."

He was much too busy pining over all the various pretty people on this island from afar. And trying not to acknowledge the fact that those pretty people he was pining over included just as many men as they did women.

"If you don't believe me, you'll find many naked pictures of both of you on my phone," Lucifer sighed, dropping his arm - and the hand distinctly lacking a particular ring - to the bed. "And yes. My Octavia. You were dating him, multiple disasters occurred, he thought he'd fix it by inviting me in, more disasters happened, then we all went on a big trip over the holidays and now we live here."

He reached for the nightstand, rummaging around for his whiskey. "Which you'll remember in, oh, one to two days from now, likely."

That seemed to quiet Octavia down, complete sentences and all.

She frowned hard, then looked around the room for the first time.

"Yeah, weirdly not reassuring that the Devil has my nudes," Duke muttered, shaking his head. "Right. Okay, maybe this is One of Those Things. In the meantime, have either of you seen my pants? Pretty sure my dignity is long gone."

"On the floor in the galley," Lucifer said.

He took a swig of the whiskey and then collapsed back on the bed. "Though I think your shirt might've wound up on one of the lamps."

Octavia finally slid off the bed.

"I don't see any of mine."

She was definitely looking for the wrong kind of thing.

Her question drowned out Duke’s muttered “what’s a galley?” Which was probably for the best.

He pointed to what looked like a pool of black leggings. “These look like your style.”

"Anything that's black or leather and not an expensive and well-made suit is yours," Lucifer offered.

He was not looking forward to spending the next 48 hours or so alone.

"... Black or leather?"

She liked dark colors a lot of the time, sure, but that sounded excessive.

“Yeah, normal-you has kind of a hardcore vibe. It’s . . . aggressive.”

And deeply hot, yes.

"Hot," Lucifer supplied. "He means hot."

"Out of everything you've said so far," Octavia noted, a little dryly, as she fished the leggings off the floor, "that one makes the most sense."

Not the reason, but the hot of it.

"Yeah yeah," Duke said. "We're all very pretty. Anyone else feeling vaguely seasick?"

He wasn't, actually. He just felt like he should be, since he'd been so heavily Warned Against the Ocean all his life and all.

"I've been living here for two years," Lucifer helpfully pointed out to him. "So no."

"And I don't get seasick," Octavia added, looking around for a shirt.

Hers? Maybe it didn't matter. A bra would be nice.

"You're both extremely unhelpful," Duke said. "And I don't know why I'm surprised." He sighed and headed for the door. "I'm going to look for pants . . . elsewhere. And hope bizarro-Fandom still at least has my apartment and diner."

"Right," Lucifer sighed, bringing his whiskey back up to his mouth. "Tell my boyfriend to please call whenever he re-inhabits your body, will you?"

"You don't have an apartment."

Neither did you, Octavia. But look, the discomfort and unsettled...ness of this whole thing was starting to get to her.

She grabbed a shirt at random. It was going to be way too big on her.

"That's ridiculous," Duke said. "Next you're going to tell me I don't have a diner, either."

It was going to have a better thread count than anything she'd ever worn, too.

"You do," Lucifer said, "Your staff is just going to be very confused when you don't show up with the catch of the day for the special."

"Yeah, exactly," Octavia said, now swimming in a very fancy shirt, yes.

"Yeah, whatever," Duke called over his shoulder as he headed through the door. "Oh thank god."

Apparently a 'galley' was an open plan living room/kitchen. On a boat.

"He's found the galley," Lucifer, still very naked under the covers, helpfully pointed out.

"Yeah, I could tell."

The drawl wasn't as deep as it could have been (would have been, most other days), but it was most certainly there.

She straightened up.

"Okay, I'm leaving now, because this is weird."

Lucifer sighed. "Well, same goes to you as I said to him," he said. "I love the woman whose body you're currently piloting very much, so do make sure she finds her way back to me in one piece as soon as possible, hm?"

He hated being on his own like this.

Well, Octavia, for one, was going to hate having left him alone once she came back to her senses.

But that Octavia wasn't here yet, so... "Right."

She'd been here a few times. (Left in the morning like this, a few times.) She knew the way out.

Lucifer knew what alone was like. He'd been alone for a very long time. He could survive it.

And yet, after two years living on this boat, all these kinds of days left him able to do was exactly what he was doing: pulling the blankets over his head and rolling over.

Maybe he'd be lucky and he'd get a fitful 48 hour nap and wake up to a full bed. A Devil could hope.

The Cape Rouge, Wednesday Morning

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