It wouldn't be any fun if his husband was some perfect little complacent spouse. Alastor basked and let himself be spoiled and doted on - once his darling husband sat on the bedsheets, Alastor knew all that dancing would have the fallen angel pass out for a cat nap in an instant. That's when he'll take his turn to gently massage worked back and leg muscles, making sure they didn't ache too badly later on.

Ah, but think of it - he had a moment now to make Lucifer laugh. Alastor took one of those hands on his cheek, pulling it away, then kissing it. And then kissing up it.

"'Tish. You spoke French," he teased, quoting one of the rare few good picturebox shows he enjoyed.