"Good man," Alastor chuckled, bending at the knees to properly scoop Lucifer into his arms. Hup! He's carried corpses and so much dead weight before. But the king himself is warm, light, and fits quite perfectly in his arms without Alastor needing to adjust or hoist weight any which-way.

"It'd be quite rude of me to drain you dry and not get you back safely while you regenerate. What kind of man I would I have been," he chuckled in amusement, strolling with confidence. It was more physical contact than Alastor had allowed in a long, long time... but after their dancing, it only felt natural to have the blond close. There was a strange, interesting little bubble of some kind of emotion in his chest... something to mull about later, with a glass of rye.