Oh, Alastor looked like a drowned rat after that, his clothes especially getting completely soaked. There's an electric green crackle as the demon slammed his hands on either side of the tub, eyes dark and menacing and teeth glowing like a radio face.
"Lucifer... if you wanted me in the bath you should have said so."
Now, he can't attack Lucifer, not in good conscience. Not that Lucifer wouldn't be perfectly fine, of course! But the back of Alastor's mind, the part hyper aware that Lucifer's carrying, won't let him.
But it will let him plunge a hand into that water to touch into Lucifer's side. To tickle him - and no one will ever believe you, Lucifer.
He swept his hands through his hair, smoothing the mess of it back as he cast a very passive glance his way. It was as if he hadn't noticed Alastor was there. Oops.
Even in the wake of that display, all crackles and glowing, a hand went to his mouth in mock surprise. Oh deer, when did you get there-
The hand shot into the water and the almost coquettish glance turned suspicious. But the reaction Alastor got once he made contact with his side and stroked in just such a way was something nobody would ever believe on this side either:
Lucifer squeaked before he went into uncontrolled giggles and squirmed to get away from that touch he is the KING you absolute monster N O
Alastor started cackling, plunging his other hand into the bath to only tickle more, going a bit wall-eyed and deranged at getting such a visceral squealing from his husband.
He really should teleport away or do something, but the funny thing about being tickled is that your brain shoots sparks! Also, all you can think about is the feeling, and how to squirm yourself out of it while QUICKLY hurtling toward submission-
Water was getting thrown everywhere as he tried to get Alastor's hands off the REALLY TICKLISH AREAS, but he was making some god-awful, very undignified noises right now-
Once freed from the attack on his weak points for massive damage, he was flushed and short of breath. All he could do was scowl as best as he could while his face was balanced between two hands.
But the flicker across his eyes was that of deepest betrayal.
"That's right. When you have them squealing and giggling just like this, I'll swoop in, and whisper in their ear," Alastor purred, touching his forehead to Lucifer's.
"Don't think I didn't realize you splashing about like a bird just to spite me. Do you want me to crawl into the bath with you, hmm? Now that you've already gotten me wet."
He's being cheeky, but Alastor is none the wiser to any double entendre he might be saying. It's not helped as he slipped away just to start unfastening his harness and unbutton his shirt, casually undressing and freeing himself from soapy wet clothes.
He froze. Al... Al, you can't... you can't just say things...
His brain short-circuited, his plan to have a theatrical cry put on a very strong hold. Eyes wide with a newfound golden glow, maybe to mask how white skin took on the marigold hue, he crept to the edge of the tub and gripped beneath his claws, peering just over to watch him.
"My silly little duck," Alastor teased, charmed by those cute saucer-plate eyes despite himself. Very well... he'll make a show of it.
Alastor's shoes get taken off and set aside - he'd have to make sure those were properly dried out and repolished later, since they're his favorite pair. He hummed a bit in dissatisfaction at removing his pants, the wet fabric clinging to his thighs as the demon worked to step out of them.
Fold the pants, and then he carefully leaned to slip off the socks and garters, resting them neatly on top of his folded pants. And then, of course, off comes the underwear.
Whether Alastor is fully aware he gave Lucifer a strip show or not, he carefully slipped his hooves into the water and settled into it, now that his clothes were set aside.
Those poor shoes. He'd only apologize for those later, knowing full well the work it takes to keep things like that in working order. But he would be envious of those pants, clinging to spots he wanted to taste before they fell free, catching his eye and hooking him. The number of times he wanted to take those fucking garters off with his teeth were... too many, but that was fine. Al took care of those himself, too. There was always a next time.
It was the casual way with which he'd disrobed that was like a grab to the chin, a teasing stroke. It was business, all business, with an air of not entirely caring who was watching... or not noticing he'd been watching at all.
Intentionally or not, the king had rendered the bath water hotter, the steam in thicker vapors by the time Alastor climbed his way in. Lucifer's hands disappeared into the water, only the golden head of hair and wide, red eyes above the water's surface by the time the Sinner settled in. His horns were little nubs.
When he swallowed it was a mouthful of hungered drool, a merciful change of pace.
Maybe he should have himself a little bit of a deer breakfast. It was breakfast time somewhere...
Oh hoh... Alastor hummed in amusement, realizing how much he'd triggered Lucifer's predator's gaze. The overly hot water was a salve on worked muscles, though it was bringing a sweat to Alastor anyway like a sauna...
Oh, a little bit of play wouldn't hurt the baby. He'll save warning about the overheated water for later.
Wiping a hand down his own neck, whisking away sweat, Alastor hummed and cocked his head a bit, teasingly exposing the flesh.
That invitation was all he needed. With his wings receded, he was a much smaller shape in the water when he advanced. A claw settled upon his thigh first before he began his 'climb', scaling Alastor's upper body before one latched against his shoulder, allowed the devil to pull himself up and out of the water and against him.
"I've been dancing all night with you. I am famished." He took a finger and started at the jawline before he ran it down the sinner's neck. Seeking. He knew where he'd find his prize, but where was the fun in going right for it?
"But why don't we talk of weaknesses... Alastor Morningstar?"
The touch, the name, it all had Alastor's skin raising goosebumps - and where the fur was still dry on his chest, on his shoulders, it stood on end. Alastor cutely tilted his head, his ears lowering - he was an actor, too, and he knew he could charm right back.
Don't think he didn't notice that. He traced claws against a fluffed shoulder. Being coy, were we...?
"The way you looked at that crane. How incensed did he make you...?" A tail pluck was by far a massive mercy. That Goetia should be lucky to be alive, really.
He brushed his lips against the sinner's neck. "And just how many ways would he have been prepared, mon cher...?"
Ugh!! Bringing up him. Alastor bared his teeth a bit more, though his skin prickled pleasantly at the near-kiss...
"Shredded and pulled, roasted through, boiled, deep fried..." Alastor grumbled jealously, "I know how you speak so fondly of birds and their dances, I don't intend to let mere poultry impress you easily."
He tsk-tsk-tsk'd, but the preparation methods were intriguing. So many ways, so many results... he knew that if he said the word, it would be done, and no more pretty little crane.
"My jealous love... I would have adored seeing a duel. But it'd be fixed." The palm instead ran down his chest.
"Yours is a song and dance I enjoy the most. All without a wing or a single feather to flash." Hmm. Here was good. He marked it with a kiss, free hand reaching for and catching his beloved's chin to hold it still.
The touch to the chin caught Alastor a little off guard, getting a surprised little sound of pleasure from him. Tingles and goosebumps practically bloomed from where Lucifer kissed, Alastor primed to expect a bite and nearly knocked over with the feather-light touch instead.
Tease. Lucifer was good at it.
"Only swoon to my songs, my king..." Alastor whispered. He'd never used those last two words together without it being a sneer before... he'd never bend a knee to this man. Pride and conviction would have never allowed it, he would never acknowledge being lesser than the devil himself! But to call him my king, as the queen, well... that was equal footing.
That effectively tied a little knot in his stomach. Even the most beautiful Ars Goetia could dance akin to Eden itself, and he wouldn't so much as turn his head.
But here, his hands were occupied with holding, touching this red and black manifestation of chaos. He lingered a breath away from this macabre delight of a demon that seized his heart and linked their very souls.
"Sing for me," he whispered, and set his teeth against his skin. He'd heard just one pretty little note only a moment ago, but he wanted more. When he bore down to pierce the skin, he would no longer tease himself from his own hunger.
Alastor loved to sing, who was he to deny such a request? Though this was a song he'd share only with Lucifer. There's a start of a gasp, and a trailed, breathy moan at the pinch and sting of pain. The boiling water made the bite feel even more raw, and he panted and sighed from the heat of it and from the devil cutting into him.
His hands wound around Lucifer's back, resting and holding on instead of tickling. He idly watched the way his own blood did pretty little swirls and curls in the bath water.
Now that was a tune he could listen to forever. Amid the curls and swirls, his tail moved like a serpent, slowly coiling back and around like an embrace. His hands shifted, cradling the sinner's head in one, but the other couldn't help playing along his chest.
Lucifer had grown accustomed to the taste, had come to savor it. As he drew a fond, deliberate trail along the marks, sampling the rich red that flowed through his beloved queen, more ran down his chin.
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.
That lump threatened to spring up in his throat, the quiet 'hush, you'. Instead he'd let it ride, just this once (he lied), his tail caressing up Alastor's back.
His gaze softened as he tipped his head, traced a thumb against a corner of his mouth. Never would the Radio Demon wish to be seen as soft, and Lucifer himself would never let the people make such foolish claims like his husband was weak for it. No, moments like these for were nobody else.
As he kissed him, a soft and lingering touch, he would keep this: The now, his words, and stow them away with so, so many others to help sweep away those cloudier days.
Another gift offered in hesitant sincerity. The taste of his blood in Lucifer's mouth had Alastor sighing pleasantly into the kiss, a hand running up Lucifer's back and another pausing to rest at his side. Where just a little weight was building up... where he was rounding out healthily, and carrying their child. Their Creation.
None of this was anything he regretted. He knew what he was doing, and it was worth it.
It was nice to have... a home, a family. Something he never dared to think he might deserve.
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sugaronthecream) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
divinetree2024-04-01 08:17 am
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"Lucifer... if you wanted me in the bath you should have said so."
Now, he can't attack Lucifer, not in good conscience. Not that Lucifer wouldn't be perfectly fine, of course! But the back of Alastor's mind, the part hyper aware that Lucifer's carrying, won't let him.
But it will let him plunge a hand into that water to touch into Lucifer's side. To tickle him - and no one will ever believe you, Lucifer.
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Even in the wake of that display, all crackles and glowing, a hand went to his mouth in mock surprise. Oh deer, when did you get there-
The hand shot into the water and the almost coquettish glance turned suspicious. But the reaction Alastor got once he made contact with his side and stroked in just such a way was something nobody would ever believe on this side either:
Lucifer squeaked before he went into uncontrolled giggles and squirmed to get away from that touch he is the KING you absolute monster N O
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Alastor started cackling, plunging his other hand into the bath to only tickle more, going a bit wall-eyed and deranged at getting such a visceral squealing from his husband.
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Water was getting thrown everywhere as he tried to get Alastor's hands off the REALLY TICKLISH AREAS, but he was making some god-awful, very undignified noises right now-
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"I'm going to tell our little one your weakness."
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But the flicker across his eyes was that of deepest betrayal.
"You wouldn't."
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"Daddy is ticklish, too."
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"...Is this because I insulted your gross deer breakfast?"
His eyes just got bigger. He reached up to settle his hands upon Alastor's wrists. Let's turn on the drama. "To turn our own child against me..."
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He's being cheeky, but Alastor is none the wiser to any double entendre he might be saying. It's not helped as he slipped away just to start unfastening his harness and unbutton his shirt, casually undressing and freeing himself from soapy wet clothes.
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His brain short-circuited, his plan to have a theatrical cry put on a very strong hold. Eyes wide with a newfound golden glow, maybe to mask how white skin took on the marigold hue, he crept to the edge of the tub and gripped beneath his claws, peering just over to watch him.
He was in trouble. He was in so much trouble.
"I would like that very much."
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Alastor's shoes get taken off and set aside - he'd have to make sure those were properly dried out and repolished later, since they're his favorite pair. He hummed a bit in dissatisfaction at removing his pants, the wet fabric clinging to his thighs as the demon worked to step out of them.
Fold the pants, and then he carefully leaned to slip off the socks and garters, resting them neatly on top of his folded pants. And then, of course, off comes the underwear.
Whether Alastor is fully aware he gave Lucifer a strip show or not, he carefully slipped his hooves into the water and settled into it, now that his clothes were set aside.
no subject
It was the casual way with which he'd disrobed that was like a grab to the chin, a teasing stroke. It was business, all business, with an air of not entirely caring who was watching... or not noticing he'd been watching at all.
Intentionally or not, the king had rendered the bath water hotter, the steam in thicker vapors by the time Alastor climbed his way in. Lucifer's hands disappeared into the water, only the golden head of hair and wide, red eyes above the water's surface by the time the Sinner settled in. His horns were little nubs.
When he swallowed it was a mouthful of hungered drool, a merciful change of pace.
Maybe he should have himself a little bit of a deer breakfast. It was breakfast time somewhere...
no subject
Oh, a little bit of play wouldn't hurt the baby. He'll save warning about the overheated water for later.
Wiping a hand down his own neck, whisking away sweat, Alastor hummed and cocked his head a bit, teasingly exposing the flesh.
"You look as though your appetite's returned~"
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"I've been dancing all night with you. I am famished." He took a finger and started at the jawline before he ran it down the sinner's neck. Seeking. He knew where he'd find his prize, but where was the fun in going right for it?
"But why don't we talk of weaknesses... Alastor Morningstar?"
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"Weaknesses...? I haven't a clue what you mean."
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"The way you looked at that crane. How incensed did he make you...?" A tail pluck was by far a massive mercy. That Goetia should be lucky to be alive, really.
He brushed his lips against the sinner's neck. "And just how many ways would he have been prepared, mon cher...?"
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"Shredded and pulled, roasted through, boiled, deep fried..." Alastor grumbled jealously, "I know how you speak so fondly of birds and their dances, I don't intend to let mere poultry impress you easily."
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"My jealous love... I would have adored seeing a duel. But it'd be fixed." The palm instead ran down his chest.
"Yours is a song and dance I enjoy the most. All without a wing or a single feather to flash." Hmm. Here was good. He marked it with a kiss, free hand reaching for and catching his beloved's chin to hold it still.
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Tease. Lucifer was good at it.
"Only swoon to my songs, my king..." Alastor whispered. He'd never used those last two words together without it being a sneer before... he'd never bend a knee to this man. Pride and conviction would have never allowed it, he would never acknowledge being lesser than the devil himself! But to call him my king, as the queen, well... that was equal footing.
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But here, his hands were occupied with holding, touching this red and black manifestation of chaos. He lingered a breath away from this macabre delight of a demon that seized his heart and linked their very souls.
"Sing for me," he whispered, and set his teeth against his skin. He'd heard just one pretty little note only a moment ago, but he wanted more. When he bore down to pierce the skin, he would no longer tease himself from his own hunger.
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His hands wound around Lucifer's back, resting and holding on instead of tickling. He idly watched the way his own blood did pretty little swirls and curls in the bath water.
"Sha..."
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Lucifer had grown accustomed to the taste, had come to savor it. As he drew a fond, deliberate trail along the marks, sampling the rich red that flowed through his beloved queen, more ran down his chin.
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"...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.
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His gaze softened as he tipped his head, traced a thumb against a corner of his mouth. Never would the Radio Demon wish to be seen as soft, and Lucifer himself would never let the people make such foolish claims like his husband was weak for it. No, moments like these for were nobody else.
As he kissed him, a soft and lingering touch, he would keep this: The now, his words, and stow them away with so, so many others to help sweep away those cloudier days.
no subject
None of this was anything he regretted. He knew what he was doing, and it was worth it.
It was nice to have... a home, a family. Something he never dared to think he might deserve.
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