There's a palpable few seconds of silence, Alastor staring with wide eyes before he caught himself and chuckled, nay, giggled and pat Lucifer's lapel reassuringly.
"At ease, old chap - we're having a bit of fun with this whole dating thing, aren't we? I wouldn't dream of assuming I am any kind of replacement for your Paramore. I am many wretched things, but I don't aim to add 'homewrecker' to that list!"
The silence made his heart stop. Did... did he make assumptions? He thought they- but- earlier, and so many times before, they-
Lucifer let himself breathe again with the pat. But it still left a squirming feeling in his gut.
"Homewrecker- Al... we're not- Lily and I aren't... aren't together anymore. You know this." Even if it hurt to say that. Humans lived such short lives, but had that amazing ability to factor a few weeks, months or even years of time and simply move on.
But how does an immortal, who has known one love for over ten thousand years, simply move on when the separation was only about a sliver of that time, ten measly, blink-and-you-miss-them years...?
"You're not a replacement. I..." He looked up at him. He couldn't just be 'at ease'.
"Did I... ever give you the impression that I was just looking to fill some slot?"
Was he ruining another relationship when it was just getting started...?
...He doesn't believe you, Lucifer. Alastor's smile doesn't drop, but his gaze does... and since it's obvious already, he takes Lucifer's hand gently into his own, bringing it up between them.
The ring. Even if Lucifer can say that things are over with Lilith, that doesn't mean the king is able to move on.
Let alone the fact that Alastor himself is not Lilith. Could never be Lilith, for all of his power and charm he wasn't the sort of compassionate soul someone like Lucifer likely sought. Likely needed.
"I never had any illusions that I would be anything serious. I knew it was a flight of fancy."
He took his hand and the ring caught the low light. It seemed to gleam almost mockingly at him- perhaps the both of them- and Lucifer was struck silent.
He stared at the band as Alastor spoke, and in that, he... understood.
Lucifer wore this ring for so long, it simply became a habit to put it on in the morning, or even sleep with it on some nights. He'd even taken to fidgeting with it, brush a thumb over it when he was lost in thought or feeling some form of anxiety. He chalked it up to a memento, but... was it?
Or was it really from an invisible desire not to let go?
If Lilith simply showed up at the hotel, what would he do? What would he say? He'd never really sat and thought about it... not since he spent his days alone in his workshop, before the phone call that changed everything.
"...Is that how you've really felt? From the start?"
"Now now. If I were opposed to such a thing, I would have never gotten invested in the first place, Lucifer. Here I am, after all - here for a flight of fancy, here for what fun we can have."
After a pause, he intertwined their fingers, feeling the warm metal against his fingers too. Warm memories, a family, something ancient and deep... and something that nearly everyone besides Alastor understood the feeling of.
"Give yourself time. How silly it would have been for me to expect you to be out of love after only a few decades or so passing since you parted with Lilith."
He snickered, thoroughly pleased with himself now. Topic had gotten real heavy, and he wanted to keep some semblance of a good mood here.
Besides, he had to figure some things out... but later. He didn't really think that the ring bothered him, but he was always a perceptive demon. He needed to work out kicking an old habit.
Then he gently touched to Alastor's lapel. "...Alright. How about here, then...? Let me take a looky-loo."
"...Yes, well. I suppose since you've already seen it," Alastor grumbled. Untying his bowtie, this time a lot less enthusiastic and seductive. Ugh. "As far as anyone knows, this is long passed. Especially Charlie."
No one needed to know that Adam had gotten him THAT badly. He was the Radio Demon.
He rolled his eyes. Fussy. "Charlie won't know a thing."
But he brought their linked hands to his lips, and he kissed a knuckle. "...If anyone knows just how much damage that late sack of misogynistic shit can do, it's me. I mean, I've known the guy from the start."
Blessed spears were one thing, but a favored weapon by a powerful being had a real punch to it, especially when around their wielder and their innate power for so long. It was why the seraphim and higher ups had their signature weapons.
"If you want your ego stroked, however, you survived a direct hit from the First Human. That's not something many, if any, can claim."
Making fun of him being mad, are you! Alastor chuckled, summoning a pair of dainty scissors.
"Much easier to stay conscious and stitch up than it was when I was alive. A jug of whiskey helped."
He's been meticulous about it... but one can only go so far with a stubborn wound that wanted you dead SO BADLY. Alastor had been stubborn and refused to lay down for death.
It was the nature of the 'beast', really: Good and Evil always sought to crawl into each other, cancel each other out. Wounds from blessed weapons was like watching a smoldering ember slowly spread across kindling, eating and spreading until there was nothing left.
It was why there were always the terrible screams after every Purge, as Sinners suffered and felt themselves practically being eaten alive by their wounds.
But Lucifer, Fallen though he was, still had some measure as a holy being. He had authority.
The wound had gone on for so long, that he could practically be here for days without rest and likely stitch Alastor back together save for a particularly gnarly scar. But he'd be rather grumpy about being helped, because he was just 'a favorite'.
Fucking... rgh.
So when he lay a palm that pulsed with his own power, he would instead exert his. Sometimes during training, angelic power went awry and liked to move like a frenzy to seek Evil to cleanse. It needed to be directed. It needed to be suppressed, just like Evil did.
One must never suffer from extremes of either of the primordial powers.
Fucking hell's fire, that pain was overwhelming. All urges to quip stopped as Alastor clenched his teeth, fighting against falling unconscious.
Magics of all kinds swirled and agitated an already volatile wound, but the movement and pain was for a cause. As Lucifer focused on that end of things, Alastor refused to be idle... he started to snip at the stitches, letting them dissipate. Using magic for the threads during the initial treatment at least spared him needing to tug the stitches out manually.
His eyelids lowered in his focus, noting that there was just... so much here. The attack was made in haste, in rage.
You pissed Adam off big time.
Doesn't take much to rile him up, but Lucifer couldn't help but feel some pride in that.
But it was clear that this was rough. Rougher than intended. With a sigh his wings unfurled, eyes springing open. The eye in his bow tie narrowed, his apprehension.
He reached in somehow, a feathered touch of magic, and formed a connection. He drew in some level of that pain, took it upon himself. Lucifer grit his teeth and his breath caught.
Fuck. He had his pain tolerance, but his limit was a bit... shorter than most others. But he will endure, if it means it makes this process a little easier.
The pain is lessening... but the wound is still far from sealing. But here, now, the blessing was being pulled away somehow, wasn't it? Which meant that his own healing and his own magic could make more traction.
Leaving the stitching across the deepest part of the gash, Alastor dropped his arms and leaned back, forcing his breath to stay steady. Fuck.
Lucifer really was making a big difference, and it was getting gradually easier to inhale without the sharp, rueful burn of energy eating at him. The ache was dull... normal... or at least, closer.
Lucifer's brow... all of his eyes, rather, furrowed in concentration. All on him, just the way he liked. The man could be quite stunning at times like these.
"Showoff," he murmured, resting his hand on Lucifer's shoulder. "Beautiful."
How in the everliving FUCK did you walk around feeling all of this!? All Lucifer wanted to do was go to his bed and not move for a while. What the unholy Hell was Alastor made of?
Physical touch was required, and it didn't mean hands. When Alastor eased forward, Lucifer's arms moved to hold him steady instead.
"Oh, shut up," was his strained, whispered reply through the pain. He shouldn't say things he doesn't mean...
Held-- held close. It hurt, but the way Lucifer sounded flagged immediately to Alastor. Alastor wrapped his arms around Lucifer, his hand cradling the back of the man's head.
"Just the pain? I can handle the pain. Stop it. You'll not make it through a day without wincing or groaning and capturing Charlie's attention and fussing. You're not even holding your composure now."
"I'm just... out of practice, is all." It really had been a long, long time.
"Let's just say... I know what some pains feel like. Ha... haha..." Lily had migraines sometimes, and cramps? Hoogh. Lucifer understood cramps more than the world of cis men.
Labor pains? Horrifying. Thanks, curse. What a pal.
"Just... let me finish here. This bit's bad. Should help a lot once I get it done."
"If you are quite done with addressing the blessing on the wound then stop," Alastor growled, claws gripping Lucifer's hair, though without any force. He just... didn't really like the idea of any of it. Accepting help, somehow admitting defeat to Adam, and... yes, even seeing Lucifer in pain. And needlessly, when he was enduring it with grace all this time.
"I can endure pain better than you can, Lucifer. You don't need to take the burden from me."
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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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"At ease, old chap - we're having a bit of fun with this whole dating thing, aren't we? I wouldn't dream of assuming I am any kind of replacement for your Paramore. I am many wretched things, but I don't aim to add 'homewrecker' to that list!"
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Lucifer let himself breathe again with the pat. But it still left a squirming feeling in his gut.
"Homewrecker- Al... we're not- Lily and I aren't... aren't together anymore. You know this." Even if it hurt to say that. Humans lived such short lives, but had that amazing ability to factor a few weeks, months or even years of time and simply move on.
But how does an immortal, who has known one love for over ten thousand years, simply move on when the separation was only about a sliver of that time, ten measly, blink-and-you-miss-them years...?
"You're not a replacement. I..." He looked up at him. He couldn't just be 'at ease'.
"Did I... ever give you the impression that I was just looking to fill some slot?"
Was he ruining another relationship when it was just getting started...?
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The ring. Even if Lucifer can say that things are over with Lilith, that doesn't mean the king is able to move on.
Let alone the fact that Alastor himself is not Lilith. Could never be Lilith, for all of his power and charm he wasn't the sort of compassionate soul someone like Lucifer likely sought. Likely needed.
"I never had any illusions that I would be anything serious. I knew it was a flight of fancy."
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He stared at the band as Alastor spoke, and in that, he... understood.
Lucifer wore this ring for so long, it simply became a habit to put it on in the morning, or even sleep with it on some nights. He'd even taken to fidgeting with it, brush a thumb over it when he was lost in thought or feeling some form of anxiety. He chalked it up to a memento, but... was it?
Or was it really from an invisible desire not to let go?
If Lilith simply showed up at the hotel, what would he do? What would he say? He'd never really sat and thought about it... not since he spent his days alone in his workshop, before the phone call that changed everything.
"...Is that how you've really felt? From the start?"
So... he did. He did ruin it.
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"Now now. If I were opposed to such a thing, I would have never gotten invested in the first place, Lucifer. Here I am, after all - here for a flight of fancy, here for what fun we can have."
After a pause, he intertwined their fingers, feeling the warm metal against his fingers too. Warm memories, a family, something ancient and deep... and something that nearly everyone besides Alastor understood the feeling of.
"Give yourself time. How silly it would have been for me to expect you to be out of love after only a few decades or so passing since you parted with Lilith."
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Lucifer held tight with intertwined fingers, a warm squeeze, and turned his eyes back to his.
He paused. Gathered himself.
"Nono- you leave me nearly out of blood, not love."
Impulse drove him to give Alastor's cheek a cheeky little pat with his free hand. "You're still recovering from mild anemia, it's understandable."
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"Of course, silly me, even all patched up you still left me breathless! Ah hah hah hah!"
Who knew he could ever be made to feel these fantastic, warm feelings again? And this time, he was going to cherish it while it lasted.
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Besides, he had to figure some things out... but later. He didn't really think that the ring bothered him, but he was always a perceptive demon. He needed to work out kicking an old habit.
Then he gently touched to Alastor's lapel. "...Alright. How about here, then...? Let me take a looky-loo."
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"...Yes, well. I suppose since you've already seen it," Alastor grumbled. Untying his bowtie, this time a lot less enthusiastic and seductive. Ugh. "As far as anyone knows, this is long passed. Especially Charlie."
No one needed to know that Adam had gotten him THAT badly. He was the Radio Demon.
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But he brought their linked hands to his lips, and he kissed a knuckle. "...If anyone knows just how much damage that late sack of misogynistic shit can do, it's me. I mean, I've known the guy from the start."
Blessed spears were one thing, but a favored weapon by a powerful being had a real punch to it, especially when around their wielder and their innate power for so long. It was why the seraphim and higher ups had their signature weapons.
"If you want your ego stroked, however, you survived a direct hit from the First Human. That's not something many, if any, can claim."
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... He'd underestimated how much he'd sealed away with the Deal.
...
Never mind it. Alastor sighed, ego bruised, let the King think it was from the injury and nothing deeper.
"Stitching the damn thing up sober was far worse," he fibbed, though that had definitely hurt like HELL too.
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Even one-handed, buttons weren't a problem, and he went to take a better look at Alastor's handy work.
...Hhhhhuh.
"You did this... completely wide awake??" However did you keep still to pull this off, you crazy bastard!?
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"Much easier to stay conscious and stitch up than it was when I was alive. A jug of whiskey helped."
He's been meticulous about it... but one can only go so far with a stubborn wound that wanted you dead SO BADLY. Alastor had been stubborn and refused to lay down for death.
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It was the nature of the 'beast', really: Good and Evil always sought to crawl into each other, cancel each other out. Wounds from blessed weapons was like watching a smoldering ember slowly spread across kindling, eating and spreading until there was nothing left.
It was why there were always the terrible screams after every Purge, as Sinners suffered and felt themselves practically being eaten alive by their wounds.
But Lucifer, Fallen though he was, still had some measure as a holy being. He had authority.
The wound had gone on for so long, that he could practically be here for days without rest and likely stitch Alastor back together save for a particularly gnarly scar. But he'd be rather grumpy about being helped, because he was just 'a favorite'.
Fucking... rgh.
So when he lay a palm that pulsed with his own power, he would instead exert his. Sometimes during training, angelic power went awry and liked to move like a frenzy to seek Evil to cleanse. It needed to be directed. It needed to be suppressed, just like Evil did.
One must never suffer from extremes of either of the primordial powers.
no subject
Magics of all kinds swirled and agitated an already volatile wound, but the movement and pain was for a cause. As Lucifer focused on that end of things, Alastor refused to be idle... he started to snip at the stitches, letting them dissipate. Using magic for the threads during the initial treatment at least spared him needing to tug the stitches out manually.
no subject
You pissed Adam off big time.
Doesn't take much to rile him up, but Lucifer couldn't help but feel some pride in that.
But it was clear that this was rough. Rougher than intended. With a sigh his wings unfurled, eyes springing open. The eye in his bow tie narrowed, his apprehension.
He reached in somehow, a feathered touch of magic, and formed a connection. He drew in some level of that pain, took it upon himself. Lucifer grit his teeth and his breath caught.
Fuck. He had his pain tolerance, but his limit was a bit... shorter than most others. But he will endure, if it means it makes this process a little easier.
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Leaving the stitching across the deepest part of the gash, Alastor dropped his arms and leaned back, forcing his breath to stay steady. Fuck.
Lucifer really was making a big difference, and it was getting gradually easier to inhale without the sharp, rueful burn of energy eating at him. The ache was dull... normal... or at least, closer.
Lucifer's brow... all of his eyes, rather, furrowed in concentration. All on him, just the way he liked. The man could be quite stunning at times like these.
"Showoff," he murmured, resting his hand on Lucifer's shoulder. "Beautiful."
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Physical touch was required, and it didn't mean hands. When Alastor eased forward, Lucifer's arms moved to hold him steady instead.
"Oh, shut up," was his strained, whispered reply through the pain. He shouldn't say things he doesn't mean...
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"What are you doing."
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This was difficult. Not impossible, but good god, there's so much damage. It's been two months...!
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He took a breath.
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"Let's just say... I know what some pains feel like. Ha... haha..." Lily had migraines sometimes, and cramps? Hoogh. Lucifer understood cramps more than the world of cis men.
Labor pains? Horrifying. Thanks, curse. What a pal.
"Just... let me finish here. This bit's bad. Should help a lot once I get it done."
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"I can endure pain better than you can, Lucifer. You don't need to take the burden from me."
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