"his pet" 1/1 (Closed, PM If interested and/or feel free to stalk <3)

“Hmm,” Deem sighed, offering Lucifer a questionable grin of his own. “I do still have many things to learn about this underworld, don’t I?”
With that, his eyes flitted back up to meet the demon’s stare. Damien could always hold his own with these kinds of things, and it showed clearly. His irises were filled with mystery— with that flirtatious gleam that seemed to shine all too brightly.
“But…,” he continued, drawling out his words as he tapped his finger impatiently on his knee. “… Perhaps you could teach me a thing or two.~”

At his words, Damien leaned to rest on the back of the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. Despite that, his posture was anything but closed-off.
“Well, you’re the expert here,” Deem replied, voice still holding that silvery heat. “You tell me, my darling king.”
Damien’s mind was too busy running through all kinds of situations to actually address any question being brought forth. But he didn’t care— this was the most fun he had had in the past few days, and it was new and interesting. So, why not comply?

Damien gave a slight laugh, shaking his head.
“I’m surprised you didn’t just hand over a book titled ‘Hell 101,’” he replied, words blatantly humor infused. “But I’m glad you allow freedom of choice here. It sure does give that false sense of individualism, when I know— in the end— you’ll get your way anyway.”
His eyes broke away from Lucifer’s to survey the rest of the surroundings. It was a futile attempt to pry his mind away from the decision at hand.
“All I’m going to say is, get me into some real trouble, Lucifer. You do with that what you will.”

This time, the laugh wasn’t so slight. It was more airy, though, like a light husk of snickers from Deem’s grinning figure.
“Such a softie,” he teased, his attention seemingly lost in the world around him. He no longer looked at Lucifer, hands now laying gently on the armrests.
“With this whole mansion, this whole title, I would expect you to have just a little more authority, love. But alright, if I have to choose, then…”
He drew out his words, sighing as he thought. “Perhaps we go out. You show me to one of your favorite bars. We hit up a club, or whatever. Once it gets later, let’s cause some trouble. Get some people dead, and lost for good. What do you say?”

Damien slipped in right beside the demon, a hand on the bar to steady himself as he pulled up the stool.
“Hmm, I’ve never been a huge fan of hard liquor,” he replied, glancing over to Lucifer. “I’ve always been more of a … foofy drink person.”
He flicked his gaze up to the bartender, offering a light smile. “Assuming you have it, I’ll take a gin and tonic. Or do bars in Hell only have the hard stuff?”

_{(welcome back :D)}

“Maybe I am a wuss, but I like to be somewhat conscious when I’m out somewhere,” he said, nonchalant. “I mean, I’m totally good with lack of control. Couldn’t care less. But when I’m out having a good time, I wanna be able to remember it. Plus, drinking fire isn’t very appealing to me.”
He nodded a thanks to the bartender, taking a diminutive sip and giving a smile of approval.

Deem just blinked, holding his own glass loosely.
“Well, I died when I was 24. Not sure how time works down here, but it’s been a few days,” he muttered, stomach dropping as he payed more attention to the taste of the alcohol. He put a hand to his temple, squinting.
“I can’t really remember how I died,” he continued, looking back to the bar. “But as I smell and taste more alcohol, I can make a guess— it probably included a whole lot of me being drunk.”

“Hmm,” Deem said, leaning to the side and into Lucifer’s shoulder. He looked over, face considerably close to the demon. “Didn’t take you as a nice drunk, but here we are. Gotta say, you’re pretty cute, too. And that’s coming from me, sober— which doesn’t happen often if I really mean it. The biggest compliment you could ask for, love.”

“Why, thank you,” Deem nearly purred, but his voice was too soft— too low to hold any real structure. He could feel the heat from Lucifer’s breath, and smell the deep, thick alcohol along with it. For that, he couldn’t help from grinning wider.
He didn’t pull away, either— just kept his eyes wandering from Lucifer’s lips back up to his eyes. His voice was still that slight melodic whisper as he spoke again. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. You are such a little softie.”