Lucifer led Stephen toward the kitchen with a pleased smirk, motioning for him to sit at the counter.
"Now," he purred, rolling up his sleeves, "what shall I cook for you, my dear doctor?"
Stephen, clearly still exasperated with him, gave him a sharp look before saying, with entirely too much pettiness—
"Boeuf Bourguignon."
Lucifer stilled.
Then a slow, delighted grin spread across his face.
"Oh, Doctor Strange," he murmured, eyes glittering with amusement. "You do know how to keep me entertained."
Stephen, annoyingly nonchalant, merely crossed his arms. "I'll believe it when I see it."
Lucifer chuckled, moving toward the stove with unbothered grace, already summoning the ingredients in the pantry, before opening it.
But as he worked, his thoughts drifted.
To Stephen.
To SHIELD.
To what came next.
Because despite his usual preference for games and half-truths, a part of him wondered—Should I just tell him?
No embellishments. No dancing around the supernatural. The real truth.
Because now that SHIELD had seen him, now that they knew Stephen was somehow connected to him, however indirectly, he was in their orbit.
Just like Matt.
And Lucifer didn't trust Fury and his spies not to pull something underhanded.
His golden eyes flickered toward Maze, who had perched herself on a nearby stool, tablet in hand.
She wasn't paying attention to the listing details—not really. She was watching him, instead.
Subtle glances. Silent nudges. Her way of telling him to get on with it.
Lucifer sighed internally.
He wasn't afraid of telling Stephen.
But he wasn't ready, either.
At least—not yet.
He glanced at Stephen, who was pretending to be indifferent while very clearly sneaking furtive glances at the tablet Maze was holding.
Lucifer smirked.
"Curious, are we?" he mused.
Stephen snapped his gaze up. "What?"
Lucifer nodded toward the tablet. "About the listings."
Stephen scoffed. "I was just—"
"Interested what SHIELD has to offer?" Lucifer finished smoothly, ignoring the glare that earned him.
With a theatrical sigh, he turned to Maze.
"Show him," he said. "I'd love to hear what the doctor thinks about architecture, art, and aesthetics."
Maze grinned, delighted at the chaos this would bring.
Stephen huffed, but took the tablet.
Lucifer smirked, stirring the sauce.
Let's see what he finds beautiful.
So, while he was cooking, most of his attention remained on Stephen as he scrolled through the tablet with carefully measured disinterest, though Lucifer could tell he was intrigued despite himself.
Lucifer, stirring the sauce for the Boeuf Bourguignon, watched Stephen's reactions closely—the way his brow furrowed when he disliked something, the small, thoughtful tilt of his head when something caught his interest.
It was fascinating.
Then, Stephen glanced up.
"Why do you even care what I think?"
"I would like to hear opinions. After all, the building I choose will be a public space." At Stephen's raised eyebrow, Lucifer smirked. "My dear doctor, I intend to open a bar."
Stephen blinked.
"...A bar," he repeated flatly.
"A lounge, technically," Lucifer corrected, pouring wine into the pan with an elegant swirl. "Somewhere I can enjoy proper music, fine drinks, and entertaining company."
Stephen arched a brow. "You mean where you can drink expensive liquor while feeding your ego."
Lucifer chuckled. "Ah, you do understand me."
Maze snorted from the side, but Lucifer ignored her, instead watching as Stephen flicked to the next property.
The doctor had an admirable eye for aesthetics, even if he wasn't conscious of it.
Lucifer noted his subtle preferences:
He despised buildings that were too modern—especially ones that tried too hard to be trendy.
He preferred classic, timeless architecture, with warm lighting and elegant craftsmanship.
He had no patience for anything that screamed "pretentious hipster nonsense."
Lucifer was utterly charmed by his dry commentary.
So when Stephen stopped at a particularly sleek, soulless property, his disdain was immediate.
"This is offensive," he muttered, swiping to the next option. "It's like a dystopian tech startup and an overpriced coffee shop had a love child."
Lucifer laughed.
He had been about to dismiss that building himself, but he let Stephen continue his delightfully scathing critique. And just as Stephen finished his passionate rant, Lucifer finally said, "Ah, well. Not that it matters what it looks now."
Stephen paused.
Brows furrowing, he narrowed his eyes at Lucifer. "What do you mean?"
Lucifer, completely unbothered, set the wooden spoon down and turned to face him.
"I'll be remodeling whatever building I buy," he said smoothly. "The exterior doesn't concern me—I'm only buying for location and structure."
Stephen froze.
There was a long silence.
Then, his ears turned red.
Lucifer smirked, delighted.
"Oh, don't stop now," he teased. "I was thoroughly enjoying your critiques."
Stephen scowled, gripping the tablet a little too tightly.
"It's weird," he said quickly, changing the subject. "That a government agency is helping you open a damn lounge."
Lucifer, still watching the redness on Stephen's ears with amusement, shrugged.
"SHIELD owes me a few favors," he said simply. "And I do enjoy being properly compensated for my good deeds."
Stephen gave him a flat look.
Lucifer grinned.
"You should try it sometime, doctor," he purred. "Doing something nice and demanding payment for it. Very rewarding."
Stephen rolled his eyes. "I'm a well-paid doctor. I already do that."
Maze, watching them, looked far too entertained.
Lucifer merely returned to his cooking, satisfied.
Because, really. If he could keep Stephen Strange flustered and curious, then that was entertainment enough.
It took Stephen long seconds for him to ask and for his flush to subside.
"So let me get this straight," he said slowly, tapping a finger against the counter. "You helped a government agency, and instead of money, they're paying you back by… helping you buy a bar?"
Lucifer, still focused on his cooking, grinned.
"Essentially, yes," he mused. "Though if you're that curious, Doctor, you could always just ask me outright what I did for them."
Stephen's jaw tightened. The man saw the challenge for what it was. After all, he was smart. However, he had also been flustered a minute ago, so it took him a while to return to his normal, impassive expression.
It didn't suit him. Or it would be best to say, that it suited him a little too much. And that bothered him. So, before Stephen could deflect, Lucifer smoothly continued—
"If you ask what you want to know," he said, gaining confidence, "I'll tell you."
His voice was low, certain, without hesitation.
"I won't hide it from you."
Stephen's breath hitched slightly, but he quickly masked it with skepticism.
"Why?" he asked instead, watching Lucifer closely.
Lucifer, without missing a beat, turned to face him fully.
"Because," he said, voice warm, certain, and utterly sincere, "I want you to be my friend."
Stephen froze.
He had expected a lie, a deflection, a flirtatious quip.
But not this.
Not genuine honesty.
Lucifer was smiling, yes, but there was something real underneath it. Something that caught Stephen off guard.
A moment passed.
Then another.
And instead of answering, Stephen simply looked back down at the tablet of buildings, pretending to still be interested.
Lucifer didn't press him. Didn't push like others did. Instead, he let the silence settle, humming to himself as he continued cooking.
It wasn't until Stephen had finished looking through the listings, and Lucifer was almost done preparing the meal, that he finally exhaled sharply and muttered—
"Fine."
Lucifer's lips curled into a knowing smirk, but before he could say anything, Stephen lifted a hand.
"But after we eat," Stephen added. "Something tells him it will be difficult to accept and I don't want to ruin my appetite after all the effort you put into cooking."
Lucifer chuckled, shaking his head as he plated the dish.
"How considerate of you, Doctor Strange," he teased. "Truly, you have the makings of a perfect dinner guest."
Stephen rolled his eyes.
Maze, watching the entire exchange from the side, grinned like a shark.
And Lucifer?
Lucifer was delighted, because he had gotten exactly what he wanted: Stephen's interest in him.
And soon, Stephen Strange would finally know who he was.
.
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Also, if you want to support me and read chapters ahead, go to my p@treon: JorieDS