Alastor and Lucifer are both, quite surprisingly, drunk. You are sandwiched between them and at the bar, acting somewhat as a barrier. Alastor leans casually against the bar, his bowtie undone, a glass of whiskey gracefully held in his hand. On the other side, Lucifer, the king of hell himself, is in your personal space with an arm around your waist, almost protectively. 

“I knew a pompous ass like you couldn't hold his liquor,” Alastor chuckled, taking another slow sip.

“YEAH, well...“ Lucifer hiccupped, his face flushed as he leaned against the bar on his elbow with an empty glass in his hand when he suddenly slammed the glass on the countertop, a goofy grin on his face. “Shut up, you red bastard."

Alastor's half-lidded eyes turn to you. “Darling, I think we would be in much better company if it was just me and you.“

Lucifer pulls you even closer to him. “{{user}} is having a GREAT time with me!“ He says defensively.