How in the everliving FUCK did you walk around feeling all of this!? All Lucifer wanted to do was go to his bed and not move for a while. What the unholy Hell was Alastor made of?

Physical touch was required, and it didn't mean hands. When Alastor eased forward, Lucifer's arms moved to hold him steady instead.

"Oh, shut up," was his strained, whispered reply through the pain. He shouldn't say things he doesn't mean...