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?
"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...
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.
He could admit that kissing a mouth still tinged with blood wasn't the ideal, but it was a taste he knew from the moments he'd bitten the insides of his own cheeks.
He wondered what it'd be like after beignets, or after fingers of whiskey. Those had to be the tastiest ones indeed...
Alastor mimicked and Lucifer's fingertips feathered the nape of his neck, and for just a moment, he adjusted the angle to deepen that kiss. Just a touch, a curiosity of his own.
In that deafening silence, there was only that soft sound of parting as the king broke the kiss.
"...Hmhm. I hope I was a little tastier that time. Sweetened the pot."
Give him a moment, okay - Lucifer's smugness and pride does things to Alastor's heart, and the old organ isn't used to fluttering over a feeling like this. The deer stared in some surprise.
He's really not sure how to feel about it all. Good? He feels good, but in what way, he could never articulate.
After a beat, he let out a soft breath of a 'hah!'.
"Hmmm~ I know a thing or two about temptation." His tail swayed akin to a cat who'd found something so very tasty.
He couldn't help it, lingered close enough to help himself to a small sweep of the tongue against a corner of Alastor's mouth, where some gold had lingered. "And when I incite a thrill? All the better."
How did he get here? He hadn't the foggiest - the decision to 'yes, AND' along with Lucifer brought him here. To a place he'd never pictured himself being in, much less enjoying himself.
"You've picked quite the queer fellow with me, I'm afraid. I haven't a clue how any of this feels."
He pulled back and canted his head curiously. "Oh? Well... perhaps we should have had a safe word for you too, then."
The king reached behind him for a pillow, and went to place it neatly atop his own lap. But the act of turning and tipping for it made his head mildly spin. Blood loss, plus arousal, equals a very confused body.
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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
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."
no subject
"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."
no subject
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.
no subject
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?"
no subject
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?
no subject
"...Heh? Pailllll...asse? Sure. I can remember that."
no subject
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.
no subject
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..."
no subject
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.
no subject
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...
no subject
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.
no subject
He wondered what it'd be like after beignets, or after fingers of whiskey. Those had to be the tastiest ones indeed...
Alastor mimicked and Lucifer's fingertips feathered the nape of his neck, and for just a moment, he adjusted the angle to deepen that kiss. Just a touch, a curiosity of his own.
In that deafening silence, there was only that soft sound of parting as the king broke the kiss.
"...Hmhm. I hope I was a little tastier that time. Sweetened the pot."
1/2
He's really not sure how to feel about it all. Good? He feels good, but in what way, he could never articulate.
After a beat, he let out a soft breath of a 'hah!'.
no subject
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He couldn't help it, lingered close enough to help himself to a small sweep of the tongue against a corner of Alastor's mouth, where some gold had lingered. "And when I incite a thrill? All the better."
no subject
"You've picked quite the queer fellow with me, I'm afraid. I haven't a clue how any of this feels."
no subject
The king reached behind him for a pillow, and went to place it neatly atop his own lap. But the act of turning and tipping for it made his head mildly spin. Blood loss, plus arousal, equals a very confused body.
no subject
And in spite of the awkwardness, Alastor ventured another brief but curious kiss.
"I haven't a clue what I'm feeling. But I at least know I'm enjoying it."
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