"Aw, y'all are adorable," Lucifer gushes in a fake southern accent.

Dean and Castiel are both sitting in the living room, Dean playing Castiel's old guitar and Castiel playing Chuck's. The fact that it was so out of tune implies that no one has used it in a long time, so he felt a bit guilty disturbing it after Chuck's passing. Unfortunately, it's the only other guitar in the house, and they're currently having fun experimenting with two parts in some of his songs.

Lucifer stands in the doorway with his phone, obviously recording them. He gives them a silly smile, then says, "I'm just videoing this right now because I don't know if this is secret stuff or not."

"Nope," Castiel replies. "Just playing around."

"If you want to live stream it as you seem to do a lot, I'm fine with that if Cas is," Dean adds.

"Ooh, can I? Can I?" Lucifer asks excitedly.

"Sure, go ahead," Castiel replies.

"Yes!" Lucifer taps his phone a few times, switching to Facebook and starting the live stream. "Castiel and Dean are being shippy!"

Castiel and Dean give him an amused smile.

"Go, start being shippy again," Lucifer insists.

"We weren't really being shippy," Castiel protests.

"I'll let the Facebookers be the judge of that," Lucifer replies. "Go back to what you were doing."

"M'kay," Castiel replies. "You wanna play chords or bass this time?"

"I'll play bass," Dean tells him. "You're the star of this show."

The two play their duet, and when they finish, Lucifer claps his free hand against his leg as loudly as he can. 

"You totally screwed that up," Dean accuses his boyfriend teasingly.

"I know, I know, but, like... Actually, I don't have an excuse. It's my song. I should know this."

Dean chuckles. "Well, you tried. Let's just agree that I'm better than you and move on."

Castiel scoffs. "Pfft, yeah, right. You try it."

"I'm gonna nail it double speed," Dean replies. "You think you can keep up, go ahead and play the other part."

Sure enough, he plays the chords twice as fast as they had originally planned, without messing up once. When he finishes, he throws his hands in the air victoriously.

"Who's awesome? I'm awesome!"

"And very modest, too," Castiel adds jokingly.

"I know, right?"

"I knew you could play guitar, but, like... dang, son!" Lucifer laughs. "You and Cassie should start a band!"

"Still got four more years of my contract," Dean informs him. "Can't get out of football 'til then."

"But you love it too much to stop, anyway," Castiel reminds him.

"Oh, true. Yeah, a band ain't happening."

Lucifer pouts. "Fine, be that way. I still think you're missing out on a golden opportunity, though."

"And you're welcome to think that," Dean replies. "I still ain't doing it."

"Ugh, fine. Be that way."

The front door opens suddenly, and Lucifer immediately puts his phone away with a confused look at Castiel, which implies that Samandriel definitely shouldn't be home from class yet. So who is it? Hendrickson, part two?

It only takes a few seconds for Michael to step into view. He makes a beeline for the medicine cabinet and pops some Advil in his mouth.

"Did he come home last night?" Lucifer asks Castiel quietly.

"Not that I saw," he replies. Louder, he asks, "Hey, Michael. You good?"

"Yes, fine," he replies.

"You sure?"

"Yes, Castiel. I'm fine." Realizing his voice might be coming out a bit cold, he adds, "Thank you."

"So where were you last night?" Lucifer asks.

"Out."

"Out with...?" he prompts. "By yourself?"

"A friend."

"A girlfriend?" Lucifer asks, then adds, "Or boyfriend? Or nonbinary friend of romantic proportions?"

"No," Michael says firmly.

"Wait, are you pan?" Dean asks, obviously confused by Lucifer's question."

"That question is irrelevant," Michael replies.

"Yes!" Lucifer pumps his fists excitedly. "You done did it, Deano!"

"I... What?"

"We've been playing 'Guess Michael's Sexuality' for months," Castiel explains. "Well, mostly Lucifer has, anyway. But I think you won first try."

"Um... Yay?" he says uncertainly.

"You're wrong," Michael says, walking away.

"Then what is your sexuality?" Dean asks.

Michael doesn't answer. 

Lucifer runs after his brother, catching him just as he opens the door to his bedroom. He takes Michael's wrist and drags him back to the living room, not letting him go.

"New strategy," Lucifer announces. "You're stuck here 'til you tell us."

"'Kay," Michael replies, leaning against the wall silently.

After a few moments of silence, Lucifer pouts and crosses his arms, dropping Michael's wrist in the process.  "Will you please tell me?"

"Why?" Michael challenges. "So you can find someone to ship me with? I'll pass."

"Please?" Lucifer pleads. "I promise I won't ship you."

Michael just looks at him for a moment, probably questioning his sincerity. Finally, he sighs in defeat. "You're just gonna keep asking, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah. That's what I do."

"Fine," Michael replies. "Asexual. So now you can't ship me. Are you happy now?"

"Wait, you're... I forgot that was, like... a thing. But now I can't even ship you in my head!" Lucifer complains.

"I'm sorry that my sexual orientation is inconveniencing you," Michael says sarcastically.

"Asexual or aromantic?" Castiel asks.

"Well, aromantic if you want to be technical about it," Michael replies.

"Well, that's... that's a thing now," Lucifer says, seeming rattled by this. His inability to ship his best friend must be hard.

"That's been a thing for over ten years now," Michael replies.

"Wait, seriously?"

Michael nods slowly. "Yes, most people do figure out their sexualities in high school, and ten years ago, I would have been sixteen, so, yes, it's been about ten years."

Lucifer gapes at him. "You've been keeping a secret from me for ten years?"

"Not really," Michael replies. "You haven't really been interested in it that long. I think is really only been since you found out Castiel was gay that the idea of other sexualities occurred to you, so it's really only been about seven years."

"Because that's so much better," Lucifer says sarcastically.

Michael shrugs. "Whatever. I told you eventually."

"Yeah, but, like, why'd it take seven years? Why keep it a secret?"

"To see if I was wrong," Michael replies. "I had never had a crush on anyone, so I just kind of assumed, but I wanted to give it a few years just in case. I guess I could be demisexual, seeing as I really don't have any friends to test that, but —"

"Wait, if you don't have friends, where were you last night?" Lucifer asks.

If Michael had seemed somewhat open about discussing his sexuality once it was out there, his willingness to cooperate is gone now. In a closed off tone, he simply says, "Out."

"But where?" Lucifer insists.

"Out."

"Michael —"

"I'm twenty-six years old," Michael snaps. "I don't need a babysitter." With that, he walks away, and this time, no one tries to stop him.

Lucifer sighs. "Something's up with Mikey. I just wish he'd tell me what."

"Just give him time," Castiel says reassuringly. "He's probably just having a bad day."

"You mean a bad few months?" Lucifer corrects him. "He's been like this since around when you went off for your tour. It's driving the rest of us insane. I don't know who has it worse, me or Samandriel. At least I don't get stuck in basically daily fights with him."

Dean lets out a low whistle. "The Novaks are falling apart."

"But at least Anna and Claire seem friendly," Castiel adds.

"Yeah, that's a plus," Lucifer agrees. "I don't know what I'd do if no one could get along at all."

"Ask me to come back?" Castiel suggests.

"I already did," Lucifer replies. "I'm not letting you leave. You're stuck here helping me."

Castiel frowns. "Look, Luce, I love you, and I'd really like to stay and help you, but I don't live here anymore. Basically everything I own is in New York; my dog's more comfortable at my house; and I have friends up there who I can't just leave at the drop of a hat."

"Please?" he pleads.

"I'm sorry, Lucifer. Really, I am. But I don't live here anymore. If all goes well, I'll be heading home within a week."

Lucifer frowns, looking hurt. "Alright, fine. I'll just keep the house running myself."

He's obviously feeling betrayed, but Castiel doesn't know what else to do. He's never relied too heavily on his family, and now that he's moved out, he's found things are easier without them. He loves visiting, of course, but he can't work with people breathing down his neck all the time.

His gaze strays to Dean. So how is that going to work?