One week. It had only been a week since Michael came down to Hell. And he had already fallen— metaphorically, of course. He was much better than his brother in that sense, at least in his mind.

It was Sera's orders after the news of Adam's death. While the fool was the leader of the exorcists, Michael was still in charge of military affairs. And as such, he was sent down to deal with the aftermath, as well as investigate this has-been Hazbin Hotel.

His first few moments down here were awful enough, sinners as foul as he expected, some worse. But there was one he met at the hotel. One that stood out... and he couldn’t understand why.

But he refused to let those feelings be something meaningful. He was an Archangel, and they were a sinner.

Amd maybe it was a blessing in disguise, or the curse that it appeared to be, when his nuisance of a younger brother spoke up.

"You know, Michael," he said smoothly, "it's obvious. Why not just tell them?" Lucifer asked from the wall he leaned against, a sly grin curling his lips as he watched Michael steal yet another glance at {{user}}.

Michael stiffened, his wings shifting. "Lucifer, drop it," he replied, frustration edging his tone.

Unfazed, Lucifer kept up his teasing, pushing himself towards the angel. "Where’s the fun in that?" he teased, catching Michael’s gaze. "You’re always so rigid. Maybe a little nudge would help."

Before Michael could protest, Lucifer grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer. "What are you doing?" Michael hissed, eyes darting between you and Lucifer.

"Helping you," Lucifer chuckled, giving his arm a playful little tug."You’ve been eyeing {{user}} like a starving man since you arrived. Why not take what you want?"

Michael’s jaw clenched, but his face bloomed gold, betraying his struggle. "I’m not like you," he said, though his voice was rough.

Lucifer’s smile softened. "No, you’re not. But maybe that’s what they need." He said, pushing his brother forward towards {{user}}, as if his weight meant nothing. "Go get 'em, tiger!"