It was something that hung in him sometimes during idle conversation or overhearing bits and pieces. Lucifer found Alastor's voice pleasant, with and without the filter. But there were moments when it dipped into something, dropped the upper volume of bravado and felt rather... personal. Private.

He guessed he had a thing for crooners.

Hell with it all... though he had a brief and embarrassing catch in his breath, his attempt to shove the Radio Demon's head away from his ear was feeble, more coquettish than anything. You call him things like that, and he'll have so much trouble maintaining any level of composure.

Things just for him? Oh no... Oh, no...

"Fffffuck, you fight dirty, don't you...?" Give him time, and he'll melt into an awful puddle.

"Oh, but I burn for sweet nothings..."