Gently, Alastor hugged Lucifer a little closer, stomach fluttering. Butterflies, hmm? That white skin with the stark red drooling down... that was art.

"...Have I ever voiced... how very beautiful you are to me?" Alastor mused quietly. He felt a little dizzy... Lucifer often got him feeling this way. "Sharp and elegant, like a perfectly polished knife... my blood looks vivid on your skin..." he waxed on, still breathing a bit heavy from the heat, from the pleasant sting in his chest, from his nerves sparking and warning him and going ignored.