It was automatic how he'd stood, and took the offered hand. But his heart was fluttering, stomach jumping in anticipation- settle down, he just ate- before the question had struck him dumb.
"Uhm. Ah."
Where. Do people usually go for this?
"Oh, anywhere's... fine? If you're messy, you're messy. I'm not a neat freak, I just play one on TV."
"Hah! Any fly on the wall would assume somehow that you're even less familiar with intimacies than I am. Have confidence, you know better than I do what we're doing," Alastor encouraged, tipping up Lucifer's chin with a finger.
It was a funny admission, honestly, to confess he was completely winging it right now. But things like this really weren't unlike dancing... following the rhythm and the instinct couldn't really go that wrong.
Despite the admission creating a ton of questions in his mind- how can a man like that really not know what he's doing when it comes to damn near anything? Fake it 'til you make it, he guessed- he went stock still with but a simple gesture.
Marigold quickly rose in his face before he cleared his throat.
"Oh, uh- well- I suppose this would be a rare consensual blood-letting, wouldn't it?" He really wished he hadn't sounded so husky, there.
He jerked a thumb to the sofa. "I got real woozy last time, so at least here, I don't need to be carried somewhere. Keeps us both comfy."
To give himself some air, keep himself from fidgeting, he moved on ahead, and dismissed his hat and coat with a bit of magic to send it hanging on a nearby rack.
He had to wonder if he needed to give some sort of line, a proposition... but it wasn't like Alastor knew, either. They really were just winging this. When he took a seat he straightened up, smoothed down his shirt, and... um, hm. Wondered.
The magic and thrill of a performance! Alastor 'escorted' Lucifer to the sofa, amused at how flustered the man was, how eagerly he dismissed his hat and coat. For such a vulnerable little arrangement, Alastor thought it best that he play the part of a proper gentleman, making sure Lucifer was sat comfortably before he joined in sitting on the sofa.
Safe word? Ah, right, that thing from one of those pornographies of late.
"A word where I'll stop, I assume?" he asked, just to be quite sure, even as he playfully pinched at Lucifer's upper arm to help the man get a little annoyed and more at-ease.
Alastor earned a short huff and a little swat at the pinchy hand.
"Well, yeah! I'm not exactly an endless supply, y'know!"
He briefly puffed a cheek as he reached up and started working his buttons undone, just two or three; with a hitch of his shoulders he eased it down, exposing one and the collarbone.
"...And we'll do somewhere different this time. Charlie was... wondering what happened to my arm before." Look, he didn't want her to fuss. Here would be easier to cover up.
There you go, much better. Alastor's smile just perks up, entirely too amused with himself and with Lucifer.
"Of course, of course. Wouldn't want to worry our favorite demon belle. And I wouldn't want to turn you from a grape into a raisin, hah hah! Where on the rind are you interested in getting bitten, then?"
He sniffed. "Brie, then a grape, huh? I should thank you to keep categorizing me in the dessert range."
As for where, hmm. He brought a hand to his shoulder. Despite the bloom of grey from his wrists to his claws, the neck and shoulders were the pristine white. "I guess... here? Any marks can go under the jacket easy enough and keep the nosies from asking questions that aren't any of their business."
He asks the question with a mischievous smile, leaning an elbow on the sofa's back. He let the question hang for just a moment, just a comedic beat.
"Am I your devilish Nawlins bat called Lestat, here to sink my teeth in you? If nothing else, I'll commend you for having better taste than a simple drab bodice-ripper in your fiction."
Hah! He'll have to keep that in his back pocket to surprise Lucifer when he's least expecting it. But for now, he'll indulge what he thinks the man actually wants.
Hooking a claw into Lucifer's collar, Alastor pulled the fabric aside, showing more skin and tugging at the button oh so tauntingly. Why, with all the white, it'll probably stain bright gold - tsk, so careless even now, Lucifer.
"So, then, Cher. What is our 'safe word'?" he asked, letting the tinniest glimpse of his old mortal drawl into his voice as he asked.
"Too mumbly! It ought not start with an 'm' when you're going to be getting drowzy, Cher," Alastor continued, pulling the shirt off of the button and away from skin to bare the shoulder.
But they hadn't picked a word. So Alastor's claws drummed on that immaculate white skin that looked so tempting. Like a ripe peach.
"Paillasse?" Pronounced in such a way it sounded more like 'pie-oss'. You familiar with that cajun slang, Lucifer?
"Damn, you're right," could- could he keep calling him that...? He was starting to get used to it already. He hadn't really been called anything in... a long ti- hooooh fffgh the claws, that's nice-
"...Heh? Pailllll...asse? Sure. I can remember that."
"Good man," Alastor chuckled, though his eyes darkened - not in expression, but from his form slipping ever so slightly. Almost like leading in a dance, Alastor moved closer, positioning Lucifer's arms to hold onto his shoulders whilst Alastor himself looped an arm around the small of the devil's back.
Surely a very intimate and close embrace - it's what the king was getting out of this arrangement, after all. And it tickled at the Radio Demon's excitement to pluck at those pleasant wires to see how the instrument would play.
His teeth closed on supple skin and pierced easily, and the cannibal politely closed his mouth over the fresh wound - while blood still easily flowed past lips, Alastor was reveling in swallowing the bulk of it as it flooded on his tongue. Fierce, hot life, filled to the brim with the magic of Creation... magic he could not utilize but felt so tauntingly, addictively close when he swallowed.
Paillasse, what an unusual word, but not in his vernacular. That'd be an easy target to hit if need be. Because the arm was one thing, but he'd haphazardly opted for a more intimate spot this time, and one that strayed close to a major artery.
Were he human, that'd spell trouble. But he should be fiiiine because he's not human!
He was, however, a man who swallowed as Alastor moved closer, sending his heart hammering against his ribs. He exerted more will than he intended to keep his grip solid and steady- very, very steady- but it was hard when you had a hand at the small of the back.
This was worlds above dancing. This may as well have been the dip in the midst of a tango, and as the fallen angel tipped his chin, fought against a small jump as teeth grazed his skin, he held his breath. He shouldn't embarrass himself. Or make things weird.
Weirder.
A hot pinch, a feverish relief, a raw thrumming in his shoulder. He'd had teeth on him before, but never like this- he couldn't stop the shuddering breath or the way his newly-manifested tail thrashed beneath him. Fight-or-flight battled with logic- he'd agreed to this- before it blended into his unending curiosity, the product of being immortal:
Do you enjoy being eaten?
Yes...? Yes, he did. He fought to still his heart, and also assure that he was okay, things were fine.
But the small sound he made, shaped in a breathless fuck, would just have to do.
The scent of blood mingled with the scent of Lucifer himmself, filling Alastor's senses along with those little sounds and the grip tightening on his shoulders. His long ears twitched faintly at hearing that breathless word, and something sparked in his chest.
Curiosity.
Were he a normal man and not a monster, perhaps it would have evoked something more akin to arousal. But instead, Alastor slowed his consumption, licking along the circle of the bite slowly and letting hot breath and hot blood contrast against the cooling skin. How far could he push this king like this?
Alastor's hand slid up from the hip to his shoulders, holding him steady should the man's grip loosen the more blood flowed. His free hand rested at the man's hip, gripping lightly to hold onto him, like Lucifer would slip away if he didn't.
He shouldn't be thriving, like a man dying of thirst getting his first drink, yet a shift in hold had his mind sailing as Alastor helped himself.
But then the demon slowed and Lucifer wondered if something was the matter. Was Al holding back? He wasn't delicate, damn it! His grip loosened, offered a shoulder a pat, informed that things were still okay-
Then that tongue decided to come into play. Warmth breath washed over dampened skin, coupled with that precise touch over an aching mark. The king's breath shallowed, quickened as an unexpected and sharp zing worked its way up his back. It was a feeling he knew, one he equated with... with...
Son of a bitch. This really was turning him on, wasn't it??
His sigh of resignation left his lips at a mild steam as he felt himself heating up. As Alastor's grip had firmed, Lucifer's tail had wound around the radio demon's thigh, trembled.
Alastor's ear lightly twitched, feeling the heat of that steam on it and... despite himself, despite having never really felt any sort of way when looking at another person, there was a foreign thrum of excitement in his chest.
Lucifer was cute when he begged.
The Demon hummed against damp skin, alternating between long, lavish laps with his tongue and sucking at the wound for the blood, keeping it hot and flowing. Lucifer would have his 'safe word' for when to stop, after all, and Alastor was carefully keeping his ears turned to listen for it even as he got more and more invested in eliciting more of those whimpers or begs from the King of Hell.
It was a weird, good sort of pain, the sting soothed by the heat and pressure. It was like the sting of a crop or a whip- things he'd not experienced in some time- followed by a soothing touch to ground his mind.
Lucifer quickly realized his mouth had gone dry- getting so lost in everything, he hadn't thought to clam up and keep himself quiet. Instead, he'd just humiliated himself further with a soft, wordless whimper.
His mouth was betraying him. His tail had followed not long before. But his body was betraying him even further with- with...!
Don'tdrawattentiontoitdon'tdrawattentiontoit-
The brie was struggling. Why'd he have to be so tasty?
While not the correct word, obviously that was the intention - Alastor drew back even as his inner beast craved for more.
He was ultimately not surprised at all to see Lucifer in such a state - that's what the King was getting from this exchange, wasn't it? It was part of the man's courting. And Alastor was nothing if not diligent in upholding his end of an arrangement.
Even with his mouth off of Lucifer, Alastor held the smaller man close still, giving the lonesome man some long-needed touch and comfort. And... in spite of himself, Alastor thought it felt... nice. It was a gentleness he hadn't allowed in a long, long time.
He'd pulled away, mercifully he thought, but something in him whined to keep going. He could just bite all over, never take his hands off of him...
But he found he couldn't stop himself, either. Though his grip loosened, he hadn't pulled away. Despite his bloodletting, he still had the capacity to tip his chin, offer a little nuzzle against the other's neck.
"...What, no kiss...?"
Or, maybe he'd lost enough blood that he'd start asking some very silly things. Because they were silly. Very silly.
He's never kissed anyone before. Never quite... thought about it. But Alastor is acting before he really processes the request... he gently tilts up Lucifer's face, chastely pressing his lips to Lucifer's. It was unpracticed, Alastor has no idea how to kiss, but here he was anyway.
"Oh, ah-" He... actually up and did it, didn't he?
The touch was so light, enough to make his stomach do a little flip in surprise, but it was like a... like a handshake. He really didn't know how, did he...?
...Pride demanded that he tie a little bow on this. After all, he'd been kissing for over ten thousand years.
For all the nights spent with good drink and dancing, music and conversation. For how good he always was with Charlie. For being a chaotic, fascinating son of a bitch... he brought a hand to the nape of Alastor's neck and held.
Lucifer eased back in, opting for warmth rather than a searing heat. He caught the other's lips and offered a scant brush before he pressed, like a greeting to a loved one after being away for so, so long.
What a strange, new feeling... Alastor's chest felt tight, like it was twisting... not from anxiety (though he felt a bit of that too), not from anger or adrenaline or the thrill of the hunt.
No, it was... softer than that. It felt...
...Like an embrace.
Alastor's ears drooped uncertainly, but he mimicked the gesture with his own lips, feeling the soft way they interlocked. The special way they matched. Ah... was this what people were so drawn to? It was special. Of course the king of Hell would be skilled at something like this - Charlie hadn't been born out of the ether, after all.
It was just a little strange to think that he was getting this softness from someone else. Who would kiss someone like him, still tasting of blood, with centuries of blood on his hands? Yet here they were, doing something inexplicable to him.
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sugaronthecream) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
divinetree2024-04-01 08:17 am
no subject
"Uhm. Ah."
Where. Do people usually go for this?
"Oh, anywhere's... fine? If you're messy, you're messy. I'm not a neat freak, I just play one on TV."
That didn't make any sense.
"Sorry. Had a lot of sugar."
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It was a funny admission, honestly, to confess he was completely winging it right now. But things like this really weren't unlike dancing... following the rhythm and the instinct couldn't really go that wrong.
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Marigold quickly rose in his face before he cleared his throat.
"Oh, uh- well- I suppose this would be a rare consensual blood-letting, wouldn't it?" He really wished he hadn't sounded so husky, there.
He jerked a thumb to the sofa. "I got real woozy last time, so at least here, I don't need to be carried somewhere. Keeps us both comfy."
To give himself some air, keep himself from fidgeting, he moved on ahead, and dismissed his hat and coat with a bit of magic to send it hanging on a nearby rack.
He had to wonder if he needed to give some sort of line, a proposition... but it wasn't like Alastor knew, either. They really were just winging this. When he took a seat he straightened up, smoothed down his shirt, and... um, hm. Wondered.
"Soooo... how about a safe word, then?"
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Safe word? Ah, right, that thing from one of those pornographies of late.
"A word where I'll stop, I assume?" he asked, just to be quite sure, even as he playfully pinched at Lucifer's upper arm to help the man get a little annoyed and more at-ease.
no subject
"Well, yeah! I'm not exactly an endless supply, y'know!"
He briefly puffed a cheek as he reached up and started working his buttons undone, just two or three; with a hitch of his shoulders he eased it down, exposing one and the collarbone.
"...And we'll do somewhere different this time. Charlie was... wondering what happened to my arm before." Look, he didn't want her to fuss. Here would be easier to cover up.
That's his logic and he's sticking to it!
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"Of course, of course. Wouldn't want to worry our favorite demon belle. And I wouldn't want to turn you from a grape into a raisin, hah hah! Where on the rind are you interested in getting bitten, then?"
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As for where, hmm. He brought a hand to his shoulder. Despite the bloom of grey from his wrists to his claws, the neck and shoulders were the pristine white. "I guess... here? Any marks can go under the jacket easy enough and keep the nosies from asking questions that aren't any of their business."
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He asks the question with a mischievous smile, leaning an elbow on the sofa's back. He let the question hang for just a moment, just a comedic beat.
"Am I your devilish Nawlins bat called Lestat, here to sink my teeth in you? If nothing else, I'll commend you for having better taste than a simple drab bodice-ripper in your fiction."
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"But if vampire roleplay is what you want to do, golly, by all means~"
A pause. A finger raised. "But the minute you go 'bleh-bleh-bleh', we're done. I should hope you're better than that, Bambi."
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Hooking a claw into Lucifer's collar, Alastor pulled the fabric aside, showing more skin and tugging at the button oh so tauntingly. Why, with all the white, it'll probably stain bright gold - tsk, so careless even now, Lucifer.
"So, then, Cher. What is our 'safe word'?" he asked, letting the tinniest glimpse of his old mortal drawl into his voice as he asked.
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His stomach did a rather pleasant flip with the fabric tug, and another at the drawl. Oh, well, he just wasn't being fair, was he-?
But he managed a lopsided smirk. "Alright. Magnus?"
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But they hadn't picked a word. So Alastor's claws drummed on that immaculate white skin that looked so tempting. Like a ripe peach.
"Paillasse?" Pronounced in such a way it sounded more like 'pie-oss'. You familiar with that cajun slang, Lucifer?
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"...Heh? Pailllll...asse? Sure. I can remember that."
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Surely a very intimate and close embrace - it's what the king was getting out of this arrangement, after all. And it tickled at the Radio Demon's excitement to pluck at those pleasant wires to see how the instrument would play.
His teeth closed on supple skin and pierced easily, and the cannibal politely closed his mouth over the fresh wound - while blood still easily flowed past lips, Alastor was reveling in swallowing the bulk of it as it flooded on his tongue. Fierce, hot life, filled to the brim with the magic of Creation... magic he could not utilize but felt so tauntingly, addictively close when he swallowed.
no subject
Were he human, that'd spell trouble. But he should be fiiiine because he's not human!
He was, however, a man who swallowed as Alastor moved closer, sending his heart hammering against his ribs. He exerted more will than he intended to keep his grip solid and steady- very, very steady- but it was hard when you had a hand at the small of the back.
This was worlds above dancing. This may as well have been the dip in the midst of a tango, and as the fallen angel tipped his chin, fought against a small jump as teeth grazed his skin, he held his breath. He shouldn't embarrass himself. Or make things weird.
Weirder.
A hot pinch, a feverish relief, a raw thrumming in his shoulder. He'd had teeth on him before, but never like this- he couldn't stop the shuddering breath or the way his newly-manifested tail thrashed beneath him. Fight-or-flight battled with logic- he'd agreed to this- before it blended into his unending curiosity, the product of being immortal:
Do you enjoy being eaten?
Yes...? Yes, he did. He fought to still his heart, and also assure that he was okay, things were fine.
But the small sound he made, shaped in a breathless fuck, would just have to do.
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Curiosity.
Were he a normal man and not a monster, perhaps it would have evoked something more akin to arousal. But instead, Alastor slowed his consumption, licking along the circle of the bite slowly and letting hot breath and hot blood contrast against the cooling skin. How far could he push this king like this?
Alastor's hand slid up from the hip to his shoulders, holding him steady should the man's grip loosen the more blood flowed. His free hand rested at the man's hip, gripping lightly to hold onto him, like Lucifer would slip away if he didn't.
no subject
But then the demon slowed and Lucifer wondered if something was the matter. Was Al holding back? He wasn't delicate, damn it! His grip loosened, offered a shoulder a pat, informed that things were still okay-
Then that tongue decided to come into play. Warmth breath washed over dampened skin, coupled with that precise touch over an aching mark. The king's breath shallowed, quickened as an unexpected and sharp zing worked its way up his back. It was a feeling he knew, one he equated with... with...
Son of a bitch. This really was turning him on, wasn't it??
His sigh of resignation left his lips at a mild steam as he felt himself heating up. As Alastor's grip had firmed, Lucifer's tail had wound around the radio demon's thigh, trembled.
"Don't... don't stop..."
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Lucifer was cute when he begged.
The Demon hummed against damp skin, alternating between long, lavish laps with his tongue and sucking at the wound for the blood, keeping it hot and flowing. Lucifer would have his 'safe word' for when to stop, after all, and Alastor was carefully keeping his ears turned to listen for it even as he got more and more invested in eliciting more of those whimpers or begs from the King of Hell.
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Lucifer quickly realized his mouth had gone dry- getting so lost in everything, he hadn't thought to clam up and keep himself quiet. Instead, he'd just humiliated himself further with a soft, wordless whimper.
His mouth was betraying him. His tail had followed not long before. But his body was betraying him even further with- with...!
Don'tdrawattentiontoitdon'tdrawattentiontoit-
The brie was struggling. Why'd he have to be so tasty?
"P-pasta... pie..."
Brain scrambling. He'd forgotten the word. He was the worst partner. But as his arms wound around Alastor now, held tight, he couldn't stop thinking about everything, about- about this, about the way he called him chér...
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He was ultimately not surprised at all to see Lucifer in such a state - that's what the King was getting from this exchange, wasn't it? It was part of the man's courting. And Alastor was nothing if not diligent in upholding his end of an arrangement.
Even with his mouth off of Lucifer, Alastor held the smaller man close still, giving the lonesome man some long-needed touch and comfort. And... in spite of himself, Alastor thought it felt... nice. It was a gentleness he hadn't allowed in a long, long time.
no subject
But he found he couldn't stop himself, either. Though his grip loosened, he hadn't pulled away. Despite his bloodletting, he still had the capacity to tip his chin, offer a little nuzzle against the other's neck.
"...What, no kiss...?"
Or, maybe he'd lost enough blood that he'd start asking some very silly things. Because they were silly. Very silly.
no subject
He's never kissed anyone before. Never quite... thought about it. But Alastor is acting before he really processes the request... he gently tilts up Lucifer's face, chastely pressing his lips to Lucifer's. It was unpracticed, Alastor has no idea how to kiss, but here he was anyway.
1/2
The touch was so light, enough to make his stomach do a little flip in surprise, but it was like a... like a handshake. He really didn't know how, did he...?
2/2
For all the nights spent with good drink and dancing, music and conversation. For how good he always was with Charlie. For being a chaotic, fascinating son of a bitch... he brought a hand to the nape of Alastor's neck and held.
Lucifer eased back in, opting for warmth rather than a searing heat. He caught the other's lips and offered a scant brush before he pressed, like a greeting to a loved one after being away for so, so long.
Like he'd been missed dearly.
no subject
No, it was... softer than that. It felt...
...Like an embrace.
Alastor's ears drooped uncertainly, but he mimicked the gesture with his own lips, feeling the soft way they interlocked. The special way they matched. Ah... was this what people were so drawn to? It was special. Of course the king of Hell would be skilled at something like this - Charlie hadn't been born out of the ether, after all.
It was just a little strange to think that he was getting this softness from someone else. Who would kiss someone like him, still tasting of blood, with centuries of blood on his hands? Yet here they were, doing something inexplicable to him.
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