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“Why, you little—” Lucifer says, and Alastor simply laughs in his face.
Well, Lucifer has long learned the best way to shut him up, and tackles him into the sofa, covering his tricky lips with his own.
It’s the lightest of kisses, can barely be called one, even. But that’s precisely why it works so well; Alastor is unsatisfied with just that, and cuts the mockery short to focus on pulling Lucifer closer, and deepening it.
Lucifer lets him work for it for less than a minute before his own self control is shot, and he pushes his tongue inside Alastor’s mouth without meeting any resistance.
He’s landed on top of Alastor and now shifts as if to settle in a more comfortable position. His cock is level with Alastor’s hip, and his hand ends up around Alastor’s own groin as it looks for somewhere to hold.
Hardly thinking thanks to the kiss, Lucifer instinctively grinds down Alastor’s hips while his hand gives Alastor’s dick a squeeze.
Underneath him, Alastor jolts and tenses.
Ah, fuck. “Oops, sorry!” Lucifer says hurriedly, immediately jumping back and ceasing all body contact. “I didn’t mean to do that, let’s just kiss sitting up like usual, yeah?”
Alastor looks upset, and Lucifer is about to apologize some more, when Alastor speaks up first.
“Why wasn’t that your intention?”
“...What?”
“You didn’t mean to do those sexual things? Why not? Aren’t they on par for the course for a relationship, and more besides? Why do you always stop at kissing?”
Lucifer is utterly lost. He can tell there’s an issue here, but not why. Story of his life. “Because you said you don’t want sex stuff?”
“When have I ever said that?”
“Uh, look, my memory is shit, but not that shitty. I definitely remember you going off about not seeing the appeal of sex and never having sex before.”
“That was before we even had a relationship.”
“So?”
“You started this thing between us under the assumption we’d never have sex? Why? You want sex.”
“But you don’t.”
“So you’ll just do without forever?”
Lucifer can’t help smiling; so Alastor is also planning a forever here. “I’m not doing without; I have you. I don’t need more than what I already have. Well…maybe with some extra I love yous here and there.”
Alastor blinks up at him and…is that a blush Lucifer sees? Before he can examine further, Alastor turns his face away. “You forgot the other part of that.”
“I did?”
“Yes. I recall also mentioning that I had equally not been keen on entering any form of relationship beyond a business one.”
“...Okay?”
Alastor looks back at him, frustrated that Lucifer isn’t getting it.
“If I wasn’t interested in…romantic courtships before, yet am now in one with you…it stands to reason…that I would also now be open to sex…”
Teehee we’re in a romantic courtship, fuck yeah. Wait. “Uh, no, that’s not how this works. And you don’t have to feel like you need to have sex just because we’re in a relationship.”
Alastor throws his hands dramatically in the air. “For God’s sake—”
“Please don’t bring my father into this—”
“What will it take for you to understand I’m open to sex?”
“Okay, first of all. In sex, clear consent is key, so I’d need to hear that from you. Secondly, we’re not doing this if you don’t actively want—”
“I want you to fuck me, Lucifer. I need it. I want to feel your cock inside me. I want to see you attempt to reduce me to a wreck begging for it. I want you to fuck me long and hard and leave me a mess and if you don’t fucking do it, I might just tie you to the bed and fuck myself onto you if I must. Is that clear enough for you, or do you need pictures?”
Lucifer doesn’t answer. He can’t.
Someone—wait it can only be him—opens a portal beneath them, and both fall on his bed.
“Ha, so it looks like that finally got through to you,” Alastor says smugly, looking at his face, then down at his now half hard cock.
Lucifer doesn’t bother with a retort. Can’t, really. Instead he pushes Alastor down and kisses him deeply.
Just as Alastor settles into the kiss, Lucifer pries his own mouth away and kisses his jaw, then his neck…
There’s an aborted sound from Alastor when Lucifer reaches his clavicle and grazes it with his teeth. Alastor’s body jolts up, and Lucifer uses that to push it back down by grinding hard into it.
“Don’t you dare stall,” Alastor threatens.
“I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Not after hearing you beg for my cock.”
“I didn’t beg—hey!” Alastor shouts in affront as Lucifer rips the top of his clothes to gain access to more skin.
“Sssh, you know I can just fix that,” Lucifer says, nuzzling on the chest fluff now revealed to him.
“I also happen to know you could have done away with it by a mere finger snap.”
“And where would the fun in that be?”
If Alastor had planned to say more, that falls through as Lucifer carefully kisses the scar on his chest, from one end to the other.
Lucifer suddenly pulls away, sitting up astride Alastor, before ripping off the rest of his shirt and undershirt off.
There’s a crackle of static that tells his Alastor is less than pleased, but Lucifer is too busy examining what he’s uncovered to care.
“Fuck, look at you.”
“Yes, do look at me, but also do more than just that,” Alastor says, clearly mollified.
“Coming right up,” Lucifer promises, already eyeing his targets; it seems Alastor’s deer features extend to more than Lucifer had expected, and he has more than one pair of nipples.
Fuck, he’d need another body to take care of all of them at the same time. He files that idea for another time, mouth latching onto the top right one, while his hands randomly pick others.
Alastor squeaks, and again his body moves as if to push Lucifer away.
Like this, Lucifer’s groin is now aligned with Alastor’s, so he pushes back down with his cock, and grinds it over Alastor’s.
Once again he senses Alastor’s body grows taut. Lucifer could chalk that down to inexperience but worst; Alastor’s dick feels too soft.
Maybe it needs to be freed first, Lucifer thinks. This time he doesn’t delay, and with a flick of his wrist, Alastor’s body is now fully bare.
“And you,” Alastor immediately demands, eyeing Lucifer’s still fully clad body.
“In a min—” He doesn’t even get to finish the word before tendrils shoot out from fuck knows where and begin tearing at his clothing. “Alright, here!” With another flick, Lucifer is now in his birthday suit.
Alastor settles back down, so Lucifer goes back to nuzzling that heavenly chess fluff once more, while his hand takes care of Alastor’s cock.
“Don’t,” Alastor says.
Lucifer immediately freezes before looking at him questioningly.
Alastor shrugs. “I don’t care for that. Don’t waste your hands on it.”
“What about my mouth?” Lucifer says with a suggestive purr, letting out his tongue in case Alastor forgot how long and lithe it is.
“Tempting, but seeing as not even you are small or pliant enough to suck my cock and fuck me at the same time…let’s leave that for another time, shall we?”
Lucifer is already thinking up ways to prove Alastor wrong, but begrudgingly pushes that aside.
“Next time then,” he says with a sigh, then cheekily kisses the base of Alastor’s cock—which finally gets it at half mast—before realigning himself, then spreading Alastor’s thighs apart
The fact that Alastor is a sinner means Lucifer can probably skip a few steps, maybe even all of them, depending on what biology he got saddled with. But Alastor will obviously not know his limits since he hasn’t tested it out before, so it’s better to not risk it. Lucifer flicks his wrist, and his fingers become coated in lube.
“Alright, first we need to make sure—”
There’s a sudden stringent blat of noise, and the figure under Lucifer starts to change, growing longer.
“Lucifer,” Alastor says, eyes dials as his voice takes a monstrous tone. “Hurry up or so help me—”
Lucifer manages to not roll his eyes. Fuck’s sake, of course he’s gotten himself the one damn virgin who isn’t reassured by going slow and steady,
“Alright, alright,” he says placatingly. “Keep your current body. We can play with your eldritch form another time.” And shit, isn’t that another interesting idea?
Alastor goes back to his regular form, but eyeing Lucifer warily. Clearly still distrustful, he demonstrates his own flexibility by lifting his legs up and settling them on Lucifer’s shoulders.
“Hurry up or I’ll choke you with these,” he says.
Lucifer groans. That’s really not a threat. Still, it does work to hurry him up, if only because the image went straight to his groan and his cock reminds him of how painfully hard it has been for a while now.
Focusing, Lucifer circles the ring of muscle with his slick fingers for a moment, before putting just the tip of one inside and pausing. Alastor jolts and tenses up, but by now Lucifer knows better than to fully stop, so he continues, albeit slowly. He adds another and moves deeper, talking as he works.
“Making sure you’re slick and open is important to both of us, it won’t be too fun if it’s so tight I can barely get inside.”
“Hmph,” Alastor huffs as a reply. Maybe Lucifer should be annoyed, but in fact he’s glad he can sense Alastor already relaxing around him.
Now used to how long Alastor’s patience lasts—which is basically: not all—Lucifer decides to play a little. He pushes a third finger in then takes to just leisurely scissoring him open and, sure enough, in no time Alastor is frowning again.
“I think that’s good en—”
With a grin, Lucifer’s finger presses against a certain bundle of nerves, stroking it.
There’s another blat of static noise as Alastor chokes back his complaint, eyes blowing wide and body arching enough his back leaves the bed.
Lucifer holds him in place as he drinks in the sight and gives Alastor a moment to compose himself.
“I sure hope you enjoyed that,” Lucifer says cheerily. “Because I have really good aim.” He rolls his finger over the nerves again.
Alastor makes a sound suspiciously like a bleat before throwing his hand over his mouth and, shit, now Lucifer’s patience is also fraying.
He surges forward and, sure, he could manipulate his height to make this easier, but there’s something about bending Alastor in two like this on a whim, and Alastor not even complaining, he likes a little too much.
“None of that,” Lucifer says, hand reaching out to pry Alastor’s hand from his mouth. Alastor makes a gurgled sound of affront, but Lucifer ignores it. “If you’re going to muffle your sounds, it better be like this.”
He leans down and kisses Alastor, hard.
There’s a moment it looks like Alastor is going to refuse him out of spite, but then he opens his mouth with the shadow of a bite to Lucifer´s lips, and his free hand grabs at Lucifer's head pulling him closer.
Satisfied, Lucifer lets go of Alastor’s wrist and instead clasps Alastor’s hand in his, threading their fingers and hoping Alastor will either not notice—or better yet, not mind—the sentimentality.
Using the full length of his tail to circle Alastor’s legs and ensure they stay where they should, Lucifer takes his hand off Alastor’s thigh to finally align himself properly.
Lucifer tells himself that it’s Alastor’s own impatience and distaste for shows of consideration—and definitely not how addicting his lips are right now—that make it so Lucifer doesn’t give him a courtesy warning before putting just the head of his cock in.
He shivers—they both do—and Lucifer can’t help but be forced to let go of Alastor’s lips with a groan, sweat forming on his forehead as he buries it on Alastor’s chest and puts all his concentration into not just thrusting in.
Fuck, it’s so hard not to. How long had he dreamed of this? Too long, and too many nights to count. So close, but he’s sure as fuck not ruining it by rushing.
“Faster,” Alastor demands, sounding a tad breathless.
“I will when your body relaxes,” Lucifer lies easily, making full use of the fact he knows Alastor is too new to this to have that level of control yet.
Growling in irritation, Alastor uses his free hand to yank at Lucifer’s hair. Since he no longer needs his own hand on his cock—his head is now fully in—Lucifer uses it to remove Alastor’s grip from his hair, pushing it down on the mattress and also threading their fingers together.
“You!”
Alastor tries moving his legs; heels digging into Lucifer’s back as he clearly attempts to thrust to spear himself on Lucifer’s cock, but the firm grip Lucifer has on his legs stops him.
He then tries to buckle to dislodge Lucifer above him, but despite Lucifer’s size, he cannot be pushed away.
Suddenly Alastor stills, and so does Lucifer.
Alastor has clearly now realized how Lucifer completely overpowers him. Sure, it should be no secret that Lucifer is the strongest between them both; but it’s different simply knowing it, and then experiencing it like this.
Apprehensive, and already planning to let go immediately, Lucifer looks up and meets Alastor’s eyes. He can’t read his expression.
“So you are as strong as you profess yourself to be,” Alastor says lightly, eyes looking slightly glazed.
“Of course, I am the Mighty Lucifer Morningstar, afterall.” Banter, banter is good. Well, being balls deep inside Alastor would be better but he takes what he can get right now.
“I don’t recall Mighty being one of your titles. Father of Lies on the other hand…”
“Don’t feel bad, nobody is all knowing.”
“Hmm,” Alastor says, still with that slightly dazed look and Lucifer worries, so unable to read if this is good or bad.
He hates outright asking because he knows it risks pissing Alastor off, but he needs verbal consent. “You…you know I’ll lighten up, or let go, if you tell me to, right?”
Alastor’s expression shifts to one Lucifer knows far too well: annoyance. “Because you must? A consequence of the curse that dictates you cannot harm sinners?”
Now the one huffing is Lucifer. “No, you little shit, because you have me wrapped around your fingers. A consequence of me being in love with you.”
Who said sincerity is bad? Lucifer is rewarded by Alastor’s eyes opening wide, then face flushing before he leans up, clearly trying to reach for a kiss.
Lucifer wants to oblige, but there’s more pressing concerns here first.
“So, it’s fine?” he insists.
“Fine implies that it’s not desirable, but can be endured without discomfort. I would say…it’s quite beyond just ‘fine’.”
It takes Lucifer a few seconds—no doubt because he has his cock almost inside Alastor and he’s totally not usually this slow—to realize this is Alastor’s roundabout way of admitting he’s liking this.
“Really?” Lucifer asks, half hopeful, half disbelieving; Alastor is the last person he’d imagine enjoying being dominated.
“Yes. Perhaps a consequence of me being in love you—hmph!”
Fuck. Lucifer barely lets him finish before shifting close and kissing him again.
Or trying to. He’d forgotten that in his current predicament, doing that meant pushing inside more.
Instead of kissing, they gasp into each other’s lips as Lucifer’s cock thrusts almost all the way in.
Stars dance behind Lucifer’s eyelids, and it takes every ounce of will to stay still. Alastor is impossibly tight around his cock, and if Lucifer had been even a little less experienced, he’s pretty sure he’d have come.
Noticing the significant lack of a certain someone demanding he hurry up, Lucifer focuses on Alastor’s face and—oh.
Alastor has his eyes closed, and his lips parted just enough to draw shaking breaths through his mouth.
Common sense dictates Lucifer should maybe stop bending Alastor into a pretzel and also slowly pull out.
Common sense didn’t get him this far.
Lucifer leans down again, and softly kisses the edge of Alastor’s perpetual smile. He releases the hold he’d had on Alastor’s hands, to let him push Lucifer away if he wants—
Or so was the plan. The moment his fingers try to disentangle themselves, Alastor’s eyes snap open and he clamps down on Lucifer’s hands, gripping so tightly that anyone other than Lucifer might have been hurt.
“Do that again—no, just move!” Alastor demands shakily, then flushes.
Fuck, the words, the look, the tone…it all goes directly to Lucifer’s ears. Better yet, his cock.
Wordlessly, Lucifer kisses him again, but it’s a shallow touch of lips as his concentration goes fully into slowly pulling out. A feat not helped by the fact he can’t use his hands, but he’d rather be damned—again—than to shun Alastor’s hold on his hands.
The more he pulls out, the more Alastor shifts beneath him. He’s again impossibly tight, only this time it feels like a deliberate attempt to keep Lucifer’s cock in there. Sure enough, Alastor’s heel digs into his back when Lucifer has everything but the tip out, as if trying to push him back in by force.
If Lucifer could get any harder, he would.
“Moving means pulling out, dear,” Lucifer says, sugar sweet. And waits…
Alastor narrows his eyes in affront. “I know that, why are you stating the obvious? Just—”
Lucifer times himself. Just as Alastor is mid rant, he snaps his hips forward, almost fully sheathing himself in one go.
“Ah!” Alastor shudders beautifully, tirade cut short with a gasp and following stunned silence.
“To think this is how I get you to stop ranting at me. We should have done this sooner,” Lucifer says, but the words come out shaky instead of light and playful like he wanted.
“Yes, you should have,” Alastor says, voice equally tremulous.
Does Alastor know how hard this is for Lucifer? How much it takes to be careful and not just mindlessly rut in this scenario?
…Better to not say it, Alastor is the type that instead of acting grateful, will just challenge him to let go instead.
It’s difficult without his hands, but Lucifer shifts his angle slightly, and when he again pushes in, he hits Alastor’s spot.
“...!” Alastor is rendered speechless, mouth half agape as he trembles and squirms, and a little more of Lucifer’s self control unravels; he doesn’t give Alastor a moment to adjust, instead picking up the pace and thrusting in and out again.
Alastor lets out a sound awfully like a squeal, and the hands holding Lucifer’s quickly let go to instead both clap over Alastor’s mouth.
A little bereft at the release, a little relieved he can use his hands elsewhere, but mostly desperately horny and in love, Lucifer uses his hands for a much more comfortable hold of Alastor’s body, and kisses the fingers over Alastor’s mouth, timing it with another deep thrust that rips out a muffled groan from Alastor.
“You know,” Lucifer says, slowing down so he can speak without moaning unintelligibly. “There’s a position that really helps hide sounds, you know? I could—fuck—turn you around, leave you on all fours and—ah—fuck you so deeply into the bed you’d be smothered by the pillow.”
Alastor moves his head sideways as if to get away from Lucifer, but his body is saying otherwise; his legs wrap more tightly around Lucifer, Alastor’s cock—now fully hard—twitches, and one of his hands grab at Lucifer’s shoulder desperately.
“Fuck, you like that, huh? Fuck, Alastor, I thought you didn’t even want sex, and just look at you now.”
Alastor lets go slightly to retort, but another thrust from Lucifer—who is no longer holding back from having his cock all the way in—has him clamping it back down to cut short on a mewl.
“We can do it, absolutely,” Lucifer promises, “but not this time, okay? I want, fuck, I need to see you. I need to hear you. Please. Please, love, let me hear you.”
Even in the face of Lucifer’s desperate begging, Alastor doesn’t relent, shaking his head and shutting his eyes but not allowing any sound out.
To think there’s a situation where Alastor would refuse to let Lucifer hear his voice. Ha.
There’s not enough will left in him to be patient anymore, so Lucifer rips Alastor’s hand away from his mouth once more, and pins it next to Alastor’s head with a strong grip at his wrist.
“Didn’t I just say? If you want to silence yourself, you’ll need to use my lips.”
Alastor makes a frustrated sound at the back of his throat, but clutches Lucifer’s hair and pulls him in, which Lucifer happily obliges.
Lucifer initially sets a rhythm that’s not quick but with long, deep thrusts every time that leave both breathless.
Like this, Lucifer can feel Alastor’s hard cock between them. He pities the loss of contact for only a second before letting go of Alastor’s hand—surely he’s gotten the memo and won’t try to put it over his mouth again—to reach between their bodies and take hold of Alastor’s cock.
He gives the shaft only two pumps before Alastor reaches down and stops him.
“Don’t,” Alastor says, and sounds serious about it, so Lucifer freezes completely.
“I…sorry, what did I do wrong? What do you need?”
Alastor huffs. For someone who had just moments before been moaning in the throes of pleasure, he’s composed himself far too quickly for Lucifer’s liking.
“I need you to first stop panicking over a minor thing,” Alastor says. “And then I want you to take your hands off that.”
“You don’t want me to jerk you off?”
“I’m glad we won’t need to call a third party to translate my sentences, that would have been awkward. Yes, I don’t need you to do that. And while you’re at it, no need to try and hit my prostate either.”
“But…why? That’s what’s giving you pleasure.”
“If those were the true source of my pleasure, I wouldn’t need you, would I now?”
Lucifer’s brain is addled by being balls deep inside Alastor and too far gone in the fucking. So it takes him a minute to understand he shouldn’t be focusing on the image of Alastor fucking himself, and instead on the underlying message.
“Alastor—” Lucifer says emotionally, and earns a whack to his head for his troubles.
“None of that. And we’ll be having no more of this,” Alastor waves at the general direction of their bodies, “if you don’t restart soon.”
“Are you really sure this will be good for you like that?” Lucifer asks one last time. “Because if you’re just trying to show you love me, there are better ways that don’t involve going without.”
“Yes, between the two of us, you’re the one prone to self immolation, not me.” Alastor pauses, then continues reluctantly. “...The sight of you, and listening to you, and the feel of your body are enough. More than enough.”
Ah, fuck.
The last of Lucifer’s control snaps. He gives Alastor no heads up, leaning down and nipping at his collarbone lovingly before moving again.
Lucifer’s pace changes as he throws caution to the wind and fucks Alastor with abandon, putting all his feelings and needs into every snap of his hips.
He no longer aims or paces himself; barely pulling back before pushing his cock back in until fully sheathed in quick, erratic motions. He’s also no longer pulling punches either; there’s nothing soft or gentle with the way his cock forcibly claims every inch of Alastor’s insides again and again.
Alastor doesn’t complain. His body trembles but moves in tandem with Lucifer, and even desperately tightening and pulling at him for the few seconds Lucifer needs to pull back to thrust. His tight ass spasms around Lucifer’s cock but takes it all in again and again as if made for him, and only him.
So much for hearing Alastor; one of his hands is back covering his mouth but Lucifer is far too gone and allows it. Besides, it’s not as if he is missing that much. Limited as Lucifer is right now to the feeling of his cock and the tight heat that surrounds it. To the smell of Alastor’s body beneath the chest Lucifer is leaving his face against.
Any thought he is capable of forming goes to this: that Alastor, a sinner so in love with the sound of his own voice that he never ceases talking even if it means steamrolling others…has been reduced to incoherence and near soundlessness by the mere drag of Lucifer’s cock inside him. The sounds he manages to let out vary though; from high to low pitched, animalistic to one almost sounding like Lucifer’s name in supplication. Gasps and groans and even a bleat here and there.
Lucifer wants to hear more, but while Alastor has been rendered speechless, Lucifer in turn has begun babbling deliriously in his pleasure.
“Fuck…fuck you’re so good. So perfect. If I new…ah…it was going to be like this…fuck…do you know how long I’ve been dreaming of this? Ah, so good, my Alastor. So…ah…so good for me. So beautiful. And no one, hng, no one ever got to know how good you are. Just me. Mine. Only mine…”
A tightening of the grip on Lucifer’s hair, an extra trembled mewl, are all the indications Lucifer has that Alastor is even listening.
Soon—is it though? really, it’s a miracle he’s lasted as long as he has—Lucifer can feel a pressure building that tells him that he’s too close, and slows down, going back to a long drawn out drag of his cock.
“Alastor, Alastor I’m so close, I…”
The hand gripping his hair pulls his head back until Lucifer looks up and meets Alastor’s face.
He looks wrecked, and more perfect than usual for it. Hair mussed, cheeks flushed and breathing heavily.
“Come for me, my love,” Alastor says hoarsely..
That was all he needed. Lucifer comes, stars dancing behind his eyelids before everything goes white.
*
Alastor opens eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed. He doesn’t need to breathe, yet foolishly gasps for air. Instead of the usual acrid air of Hell, his nostrils are inundated with the base smell of sex and and apples.
“Alastor,” Lucifer’s voice pierces through. It grounds Alastor and his vision focuses to find Lucifer on top—no—sitting up next to him. “How are you doing?” His hand reaches out to card through Alastor’s hair with clear trepidation.
Alastor considers it; as supple as his body is, he can already begin to sense the fallout of how he’d been handled.
But he’s certain Lucifer is more worried about his emotional state, and on that front…
“Physically—” Alastor pauses at how foreign his own voice sounds, hoarse as it is. “I've certainly had better days. Decades even. But in other regards…”
He pauses for dramatic effect, enjoying the sight of Lucifer squirming with anxiety before putting him out of his misery.
“In other regards, I can’t say I’ve had better.”
It ought to be annoying, how he can see Lucifer’s mind so addled that it takes a while to catch his meaning. Instead, however, Alastor finds it adorable.
Perhaps because he’s the cause of it.
Lucifer’s eyes water with emotion, and he lies down, wrapping his arms around Alastor’s shoulders and nuzzling his cheek.
It doesn’t seem like Lucifer is planning another round anytime soon, and Alastor is secretly relieved; even if it’s true he’d enjoyed himself beyond his wildest expectations, he still prefers to have a moment to…collect himself. Reflect on events calmly. Yes.
Seeing Lucifer sigh and close his eyes, Alastor gently nudges him. “Not yet, I don’t want to lie down in my own filth.”
Lucifer doesn’t move. “Oh, that’s been taken care of.”
“Hm?” Alastor shifts to look down on himself, and sure enough, his body is devoid of sweat or any other bodily fluids, even between his legs. “How…long was I out for?”
“Not even a minute, it took me a snap of the fingers. I did want to clean you up the old fashioned way; maybe carry you to a tub filled with hot water and all…but I thought you’d feel better coming to all cleaned up.”
“Hmph, I’ll allow it this once, but I expect the full treatment next time.”
“So there really will be a next time,” Lucifer says in wonder.
Alastor sighs, but decides to be magnanimous in light of Lucifer’s recent performance, and doesn’t call out his lack of wits.
“Of course there will be. Though I expect you to take the lead in starting this, next time.”
“Absolutely,” Lucifer replies a little eagerly, and Alator decides to drop the subject lest Lucifer get too excited and try to go at it already afterall.
As he relaxes, Alastor suddenly finds himself cold enough to shiver.
In a rare moment of wisdom, Lucifer doesn’t comment on it—despite clearly being able to feel it, wrapped as he is around Alastor—and instead silently lets out his wings to cloak over them.
Satisfied, Alastor caresses Lucifer’s back and watches as he closes his eyes and relaxes.
When sufficient time has past and Lucifer seems sound asleep, Alastor can’t help but murmur.
“Thank you, my love.”
He never thought he’d regret it; if he had never come to rue-quite the opposite-giving his heart to Lucifer, there was no reason his body would be any different.
He just didn’t expect the experience to feel rewarding.
“Hmm, no, thank you,” comes the reply.
Oh, faking sleep? The gall. Lucifer will pay for that.
In the morning.