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.
His stomach, which had leaped in worry, plunged back down in relief. Devil though he was, to exert force in something like this would put him right on the level of the worst people down here, and that wasn't where he wanted to be, vindicating his heavenly detractors and their decisions.
So with another kiss his way, he leaned into it and let himself enjoy things again. Really, if you told him months ago he'd be suckin' face with Alastor, he'd have laughed until he hacked out a lung.
"Now, Bambi... you're sounding like you like me or somethin'. What a curious revelation to this little juice box."
There was never a universe where, if you had asked Alastor whether he thought he'd be kissing and considering pawing at Lucifer in the man's private room, where Alastor wouldn't react exactly as he'd reacted whenever Angel came onto him. But in the moment, after the playful courtship, the weeks of raucous nights of dancing and drinking, the games and the play... and hell, even the successful dining date in Cannibal Town where the two of them enjoyed the leftovers?
It felt perfectly natural. At the end of the day, it really would be the devil himself that would look past the cannibalism and murder.
"To think your tastes and standards lowered to craving the companionship of a serial killer and cannibal. Or have you acquired a taste for frightful demons?"
"And yet no one would know such a thing looking at you! Or carrying you, petite thing. Light as a duck, you make me wonder if your bones are hollowed, too," Alastor teased, grin broadening and brightening in extreme amusement. "But perhaps I'm sipping from a sweet poison, and I'll perish from my hubris. Hah! How novel that would be, after so many have tried and failed to take me out."
"Certainly! This time you're quite safe and seated so you won't spill over into the middle of the street."
Obviously he needed to regenerate the wound and the lost blood. Less obviously, he likely didn't want to be indecent with his particular carnal interest on display.
"Shall I warm the beignets for you, Cher?" Alastor asked, his drawl sneaking out and making the word sound more like 'shah'.
"R-right." Sitting. Recovering. That's why he would sit here for a while.
...Ooooogh but him saying that wasn't HELPING. The look Lucifer gave him was nothing short of helpless, sweat running down the brow.
"Oh yeah, that'd- that'd be great! Thanks."
He needed to put out of his mind how he was held. He needed to put out of his mind the feel of lips on his neck. He needed to put... fucking... everything out of his mind. How long had it been since he'd taken care of himself? Not that it'd ever feel good anymore- thanks, depression-
"So what's that... mean, anyway? It's been a hot minute since I studied the myriad languages...!"
Oh, what a perfect opportunity for a game. Alastor stood with a bounce in his step, bending over backwards, his head twisting around as if on a swivel.
"Where's the fun in simply being told? Hah haaaah! Come now, use that noggin, do a little digging - I've given you plenty of clues."
Standing himself upright with far too much pep in his step, he returned to the tea table and summoned a hot plate, humming to himself in delight as he set the tray of beignets on top to warm.
The moment he bounced and went weird crackling cryptid, Lucifer knew he wasn't gonna get the answer he wanted.
"Use my noggin while I'm slightly anemic, huh? Villain! Tease!" He sighed dramatically and fell back onto the sofa, making sure to keep the pillow clutched against his fly.
But he had time to think now. It was a term of endearment, that he knew, but he knew that French and Creole did blend and yet diverge into its own little beast. All the while he closed his eyes and smoothed back his hair. He took a breath. Twenty minutes. He only needed that much time before he could... at least pass without notice, if he was still at full mast.
He reached a hand to lay against where his shoulder met his neck. It gleamed as he drew upon the power of his domain itself, borrowed to empower and carry him through healing while he was feeling woozy.
Nobody should use magic when practically bloodless...
Even with Alastor's humming, the way an ear rotates all the way back towards Lucifer makes it clear he hears a bit of that magic going. My, my.
"Ever impetuous, are we?"
Though Lucifer being reckless was entirely what put them in this current situation. And it wasn't as though Alastor didn't do exactly the same when he thought he could get away with it.
It just meant that once the beignets were warm and not soggy he brought them over promptly, summoning a small tea tray so the platter wouldn't scald either of them. Something else to occupy the attention and the hands instead of reckless use of magics.
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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
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...
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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.
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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.
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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!'.
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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."
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"You've picked quite the queer fellow with me, I'm afraid. I haven't a clue how any of this feels."
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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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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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So with another kiss his way, he leaned into it and let himself enjoy things again. Really, if you told him months ago he'd be suckin' face with Alastor, he'd have laughed until he hacked out a lung.
"Now, Bambi... you're sounding like you like me or somethin'. What a curious revelation to this little juice box."
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It felt perfectly natural. At the end of the day, it really would be the devil himself that would look past the cannibalism and murder.
"To think your tastes and standards lowered to craving the companionship of a serial killer and cannibal. Or have you acquired a taste for frightful demons?"
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He reached out and draped his arms over Alastor's shoulders. He was, very minutely, shaking.
"Who's got the taste for frightful beings now, huh?"
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"A sweet poison... I'll take that compliment to the bank, thankyouverymuch! Always a pleasure to be nibbled by a fan~"
But he cleared his throat, looked away. "I just, ah- shouldn't be. ...Carried. Right now. Give me... tweeenty minutes...?"
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Obviously he needed to regenerate the wound and the lost blood. Less obviously, he likely didn't want to be indecent with his particular carnal interest on display.
"Shall I warm the beignets for you, Cher?" Alastor asked, his drawl sneaking out and making the word sound more like 'shah'.
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...Ooooogh but him saying that wasn't HELPING. The look Lucifer gave him was nothing short of helpless, sweat running down the brow.
"Oh yeah, that'd- that'd be great! Thanks."
He needed to put out of his mind how he was held. He needed to put out of his mind the feel of lips on his neck. He needed to put... fucking... everything out of his mind. How long had it been since he'd taken care of himself? Not that it'd ever feel good anymore- thanks, depression-
"So what's that... mean, anyway? It's been a hot minute since I studied the myriad languages...!"
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"Where's the fun in simply being told? Hah haaaah! Come now, use that noggin, do a little digging - I've given you plenty of clues."
Standing himself upright with far too much pep in his step, he returned to the tea table and summoned a hot plate, humming to himself in delight as he set the tray of beignets on top to warm.
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"Use my noggin while I'm slightly anemic, huh? Villain! Tease!" He sighed dramatically and fell back onto the sofa, making sure to keep the pillow clutched against his fly.
But he had time to think now. It was a term of endearment, that he knew, but he knew that French and Creole did blend and yet diverge into its own little beast. All the while he closed his eyes and smoothed back his hair. He took a breath. Twenty minutes. He only needed that much time before he could... at least pass without notice, if he was still at full mast.
He reached a hand to lay against where his shoulder met his neck. It gleamed as he drew upon the power of his domain itself, borrowed to empower and carry him through healing while he was feeling woozy.
Nobody should use magic when practically bloodless...
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"Ever impetuous, are we?"
Though Lucifer being reckless was entirely what put them in this current situation. And it wasn't as though Alastor didn't do exactly the same when he thought he could get away with it.
It just meant that once the beignets were warm and not soggy he brought them over promptly, summoning a small tea tray so the platter wouldn't scald either of them. Something else to occupy the attention and the hands instead of reckless use of magics.
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