Not more than ten minutes ago, Lucifer would have sworn he'd be interested in sex again in about a decade, if then. Maybe lose a few years caught up in making skeleton ducks as a distraction with a side business in eyeglass cases. If it weren't for the fact that he had several more reasons to keep himself out of his workshop these days, he might almost have considered it. Almost.
It wouldn't have been the first time he'd went through a dry spell. Before Lilith left, sex already wasn't at the forefront of his mind and afterward, even less so. He couldn't even recall the last time he'd jerked off for anything more than a prelude to sleep, perfunctory and more a relief than pleasure, worked faster than counting sheep.
So yeah, not wanting sex was actually pretty damn familiar to him in recent times.
That was before he had Alastor in his lap, kissing the breath out of him as if he was recovering from his own drought of kisses and they hadn't just been together a few hours ago. And a few hours before that. And the night before, crying out fucking loud, it was ridiculous how much he wanted him, sort of like a honeymo—
He cut that thought off at the knees, not the time for it, not at all.
But being with Alastor was like spending so long wandering in a desert he hadn't even noticed he was thirsty until he was dropped into a river. He wanted to dive deep, to get lost again in Alastor's waters, swampy as they may be, algae-thick and brimming with decay and life in equal measure.
The only problem was his mind was refusing to cooperate; he found his thoughts kept wandering back to the tape, to what he'd seen and it refused to stay on the topic at hand, the topic in his hands and in his lap; Alastor, warm and willing and pressed up against him and as much as Lucifer still met Alastor's kisses with enthusiasm, his mind kept flashing unwanted images, of that blank expression, those empty eyes, of him being so obviously used.
He didn't want to see that, couldn't stop it, banished it away only for it to pop back up like a tissue from an endless box of Kleenex.
Whether it was Alastor's touch of prescience or there was simply something off, Lucifer didn't know. Either way, Alastor drew back to look at him in puzzlement, that little frown-wrinkle visible between his eyes. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Lucifer tried to pull him back in and Alastor resisted.
"No, I won't accept that this time, not for this, never for this." Alastor considered him a long moment, Lucifer nearly squirming under the weight of his gaze. Then he cupped Lucifer's face in one hand, stroking a thumb across the arch of his cheekbone. "You're always so concerned about my wants, you do realize you're also allowed to decline the offer if the mood doesn't strike, hmm?"
To hear Alastor so adamant for consent after watching that video was not helping and the little place in Lucifer's chest that always grew so warm in Alastor's presence ached. "I'm not declining!" Lucifer snapped, "I want to fuck you!"
Not exactly his best offering and Alastor hummed disapprovingly, "Vulgar."
It stung. He'd never argued the terminology before, what else was Lucifer supposed to call it? Fucking, sex, making love, it all meant the same thing in the end, right, and it was an end Lucifer wanted, he did, damn it.
"I'm not declining!" Lucifer repeated desperately. He wasn't. He wanted Alastor, always wanted him, and yet—
(Relax doesn't mean play dead, you moron)
Alastor shifted in his lap, moving, not being moved, and it tore away the memory veil. His eyes narrowed, showing a rim of crimson pupils through dark lashes. He reached down to pull Lucifer's arms from around him and Lucifer didn't resist, no matter that he wanted to, he wanted to hold and cling and keep Alastor against him. But he wouldn't, he couldn't, he wasn't like that. He wasn't.
The downward spiral of his thoughts halted when Alastor only took Lucifer's hands in his own, drawing them up between them and curling their fingers together. "Very well, then. You're always asking what it is I want. What I want right now is for you to kiss me. Only kisses, nothing more."
The relief that Alastor wasn't going to pull away was so strong that Lucifer's rising panic whooshed out of him, leaving a vacuum in its place that eagerness rushed to fill.
Yeah. Yeah, okay, Lucifer could do that, it wasn't like kissing Alastor was some kind of hardship. He breeched the distance between their mouths in one awkward lurch forward, briefly mashing their lips together painfully before Alastor eased it into a real kiss, tempered Lucifer's franticness. All sharp teeth and soft, stroking tongue, breaking apart only to surge together again, and soon enough they were both panting, kisses going urgent, the warmth between them simmering into heat.
Alastor was unsurprisingly clever with the things he could do with his tongue, equal parts taunting and arousing, and it occurred to Lucifer they'd never really done this part, the whole making out like teenagers. They'd skipped over it from the get-go, dropping right into fucking.
They'd never spend time exploring each other's mouths, hands caught chastely between them, Alastor's slender fingers moving restlessly against Lucifer's smaller ones.
They'd missed out, Lucifer decided hazily, and if there were intrusive thoughts trying to slip in for another unwanted interruption, none of them could find a way past the cloudy shield Alastor's kisses dropped over his mind. Those kisses worked their magic, made it so much easier to dim the screen stuck in his head, to shove it away, tune it out and focus only on the wet warmth of Alastor's mouth.
Alastor drew back enough to look at him, crimson eyes as hazy and warm as Lucifer felt inside, and Lucifer could only wonder at what he saw; could he possibly be even close to as lovely as Alastor looked right now? A flush high in his cheeks, thin lips damp, swollen pink and perfect, his tongue flicking over them briefly before Alastor leaned in and took his mouth again in a quick, noisy little peck, another, murmuring between each one. "The taste of your mouth is addictive. I wonder if it's your angelic nature or your demonic one that makes it so appealing." He switched to kiss a path over to Lucifer's ear, a prehensile tongue curling ticklishly around it before he whispered, "Or perhaps it's your preference for morning donuts that sweetens your disposition."
"You're one to complain about a sour disposition," Lucifer gasped out.
He shivered helplessly as teeth grazed the soft lobe of his ear before Alastor's mouth claimed it, sucking gently and releasing it only long enough to whisper slyly, "I never claimed mine was better."
If Alastor's tongue was prehensile, then surely Lucifer's hands had minds of their own because he didn't quite remember instructing them to slip away from Alastor's hold and take the initiative to start working their way under Alastor's shirt, tugging down his suspenders and yanking at his shirttail to seek out warm skin rather than silk fabric.
"Ah, ah, ah." Something wound around Lucifer's wrists and tugged them gently away, not Alastor's hands, those moved to cup Lucifer's face, tipping it to give Alastor better access to his other ear as he lapped a path along the whorls and dips within. "Our agreement was for kisses alone."
Lucifer was fairly sure that ear sucking was tipping right over the edge of that agreement into freefall. But the slender black tentacles around his wrists disagreed, firmly keeping his hands away from the possibility of bare skin. Okay, unfair, Lucifer was all about bending rules but only when he was the one doing it.
"So, make a new agreement," Lucifer argued, agreements weren't deals or bets, right? A gentleman's agreement, he could do that. Only that did not work in his favor. To his dismay, Alastor pulled away entirely although he stayed firmly seated in Lucifer's lap, which was good since other firm things were appreciating his weight and preferred him to stay right where he was.
"I couldn't possibly," Alastor said, all mocking solicitude. "You do realize this is a public room and anyone can walk in and see us. It's one thing to be caught in a somewhat compromising position, it's quite another in flagrante delicto."
"It is not," Lucifer said, still struggling to reach the buttons on Alastor's shirt. Those tentacles weren't tight, at least not painfully so, but they still kept him from his goal. "Those mean the exact same thing."
"Hush, I don't spoil your little speeches."
As for interruptions, they were definitely in agreement on that; after walk-ins from Angel and Charlie, and a drive by closet mopping from Niffty, he'd prefer to avoid adding the rest of the hotel staff to their bingo card. That was a problem that had an easy solution, Lucifer could fix that. He managed to convince one hand to pause in its quest for Alastor nudity and twisted it towards the door, giving it the old finger gun. The knob promptly melted, liquid metal fusing the door closed.
Alastor followed the direction of his hand with his eyes and only looked amused, shaking his head. "You could have simply teleported us to our room."
Lucifer shook his head. No. No, he really couldn't, he needed this here, in this room, he needed to wipe out every pixel of that memory and couldn't tell Alastor that.
(For you it was today but for him it was years ago)
But there was a tv in this room and if Vox could possibly get even a tiny hint of what they were doing through it…unacceptable. He dropped a heavy tablecloth over the television mentally, not even snapping to avoid alerting Alastor. The soft flump of it landing almost gave it away and Lucifer spoke up to keep Alastor's attention.
"You don't like using my portals," Lucifer countered.
"Not your portals or any other of your various holes," Alastor agreed.
Oh, this guy. "Now who's being vulgar."
"But I'm quite busy at the moment," Alastor went on airily, "I don't always have time to indulge your deviant sexual desires."
The way he wriggled in Lucifer's lap, a restless shift like he was considering getting up, was enough of a distraction that it took the words a few seconds to work their way through.
"Hey! Not deviant!" Crying out loud, compared to the rest of Hell, the two of them were practically chaste. Heaven might disagree, but no one fucking well asked them, now did they.
Alastor's eyes gleamed as he licked his teeth. "Would you like it to be?"
Before Lucifer could reply, the tentacles circling his wrists tugged them up and back against the sofa, pinning them up by his shoulders. Lucifer was startled enough to resist, pulling back against them, testing their strength.
Alastor paused and Lucifer couldn't recall him ever looking so uncertain.
"No?" he asked cautiously.
Nuh uh, not no at all, not once Lucifer mentally adjusted. The tentacles were strong enough to give him something to resist but not so much he couldn't break their grip if he wanted and Lucifer closed his eyes and strained against them again, relishing that hold, Alastor's obvious strength, god, yes, he was strong, strong enough to handle whatever Hell was throwing at him and there was comfort there, knowing that if Lucifer wasn't allowed to protect him then at least he very likely could protect himself.
Maybe…maybe he even wanted to do a little protecting back, maybe, and Lucifer couldn't hold back a shiver at the knowledge of it.
"Yes," Lucifer rasped out, "very much to the yes."
The absolute delight that flared in his eyes was almost as arousing as Alastor surging in to kiss him again, his hands and maybe a tentacle or two sliding over Lucifer, warm and eager even through the barrier of clothes. Not deviant, barely even kinky but that Alastor obviously saw himself as being deliciously naughty was…well, it was a little adorable, wasn't it. And something of a relief, he'd obviously not experimented too much (been experimented on) in his past if light bondage was on the side of deviance.
Alastor was taking advantage of the opportunity he'd been given, hands fluttering over Lucifer, combing briefly through his hair, fingertips following the curve of his ears down to his jaw. His hands ventured downward, sliding across the narrow breadth of his shoulders and smoothing down his chest while Lucifer could only allow it, huffing out little moans and sighs whenever Alastor found a sensitive place.
"How do you make me want to touch you this much?" Alastor groaned, echoing Lucifer's sentiment of earlier. "It's rather annoyingly distracting. I had you only a few hours ago."
"Yeah," Lucifer agreed mindlessly, groaning as Alastor found a nipple through his shirt and gave it a hard pinch—how was it he had nipples but no belly button, add that one to God's questionable design plans. "Have me again. Let me fuck you like this."
"Mm, no."
This time it was Lucifer's turn to blink, rearing back to look disbelievingly at Alastor. Who was all but gloating, and why wouldn't he, fucking brat that he was, Lucifer all tied up for him to toy with. The playful curl of his tongue across his teeth was an aggravation and a goad as one, and Lucifer strained forward, unable to catch that grinning mouth only a bare inch from his own.
"It's bad form to give those lying to you a reward," Alastor told him and the scold in the words was only half-teasing.
Lucifer didn't bother denying it; they both knew he was lying, he'd never had a hope of keeping that from Alastor, only the contents of the lie. If Alastor wanted to play games, he could play, too. He relaxed back against the sofa, let the tentacles take the weight of his arms and said lazily, "All right, then, baby, take what you want."
Alastor didn't take the offering, only wrinkled his nose adorably. "Honestly, your taste in pet names is appalling."
"You can do better?"
"I can certainly try." He leaned in, the damp warmth of his breath was a caress against Lucifer's ear as he said with deep, throaty intensity, "my darling."
Oh, fuck. The way rough static curled around the words, practically stroking him from within and Lucifer arched up, Alastor riding the wave of his body easily, yes, that, more of that.
"Like this," Lucifer pleaded. He drew his knees up, pushing them into Alastor's back and urging him closer, trying to grind up against him. "I want you to ride me."
"Yeehaw," Alastor said dryly. He pushed back against Lucifer's knees, resisting their urging. "I'll have to stand up to remove my trousers."
Lucifer's wrists were bound but his fingers weren't, and neither were his powers. He snapped and sent Alastor's clothes away, to the other side of the room where they folded themselves messily, look, his concentration was taking a beating here. His own clothes he left in place, let Alastor work for that.
Alastor's mouth twisted, he never frowned, possibly couldn't, but that was his 'frowning smile' straight from Lucifer's mental dictionary. "That better not have popped a single stitch, the repair bill for my clothing lately has been outlandish."
"Bitch, bitch, bitch," Lucifer said distractedly. His attention was on the sudden bareness of Alastor directly in his lap, the slender litheness of him unhidden by layers of clothing. His eyes followed the path his hands were unable to take, down Alastor's chest and the flatness of his belly to the dark crimson trail of hair leading a path from his navel to the softness of his cock nestled against his balls. Lucifer lifted his hips, nudging the bulge at the crotch of his pants against it, the white cloth stark against deep red fur. A glance up showed Alastor wasn't just letting him take in the view, he was all but preening, knees spread wide to better display himself, narcissistic bastard.
May as well give him what he wanted.
"Don't worry, baby," Lucifer leered at him, waggling the fingers of his trapped hands in offering, "I know how to take care of you."
Alastor groaned, rolling his eyes. "Silver-tongued is a lie, yours is nothing more than badly polished brass."
Oh, that would not stand.
"You seemed to like my tongue well enough earlier," Lucifer stuck said tongue out, wriggling it in demonstration of his excellent oral skills. "You even came for me."
"Yes," Alastor admitted, "I did. I hope you aren't angling for a repeat performance because I doubt I could manage a second time tod— "
"No!" Lucifer burst out and Alastor blinked as Lucifer rambled on, he shouldn't, he couldn't help it. "No, do it how you want it. How you like it."
"I always do," Alastor agreed slowly.
With me, Lucifer added on mentally. Always with me. Not like with him, never, never.
The feel of Alastor's fingers at the fly of his pants was enough to yank him forcibly back to the present. Nimbly unbuckling his belt and sliding down his zipper, reaching inside beneath his undershorts to draw his cock free.
Alastor's hand circling around him already had Lucifer groaning. He could come just from this, Alastor's strong, slim fingers stroking him to orgasm, spilling over his knuckles and belly and the softness of his cock, painting him in cream and gold.
Even as he was thinking it, Alastor was already moving, crowding in closer and rising up on his knees. He reached back to hold Lucifer's cock steady, snubbing the tip against his hole and arousal was abruptly displaced by panic.
"Wait!" Lucifer blurted, pulling uselessly against the bindings at his wrists. "Wait, you aren't ready, you need—" lube, he tried to say but Alastor was already lowering himself.
"Taken care of," Alastor said simply and Lucifer could only groan, his bound hands clenching into fists as Alastor proved it.
He was already gorgeously slick inside which meant he'd prepared himself before he came in, brat that he was, and the thought of that, Alastor lying back on their bed, trousers down to his knees and two slippery fingers inside him, readying himself to come find Lucifer, for this, fuck, the mental image alone made Lucifer shudder, straining against the tentacles binding his wrists.
Slick inside and yet still so tight and Lucifer couldn't help the whimper that escaped, sharp and cracking, trying to lift his hips to match the slow, teasing rhythm Alastor started. Alastor's weight might not be a barrier, but the angle was, and all Lucifer could do was let Alastor move as he liked.
Not that Lucifer objected, not in the slightest. Not when Alastor was so gorgeous like this, sweat starting to darken his hair, the points of his ears falling limp, the intensity of his gaze as Alastor watched him with equal raptness. His hands rested on Lucifer's chest for balance, sharp nails drawing beads of golden blood to gleam like jewels as Alastor rose up and dropped back down. He might still think a little teasing bondage was on the kinky side, but he certainly knew how to move his hips, all those dance club nights serving him well.
So tight inside, clenching rhythmically as Alastor rode him and fuck, Lucifer wasn't going to last. Closing his eyes was useless, he could still hear the soft, slick noises of their sex, Alastor's panting breaths and static-laden moans as he rose up and dropped down hard, grinding down on Lucifer before doing it again, again, oh, god, again.
"Come for me?" Alastor coaxed breathlessly. "Let me see you, you lovely thing. So lovely like this and all from me, my beautiful darling Lucifer."
How the fuck was he supposed to hold back after that?
Blindly Lucifer tore his hands away from the tentacles, grabbing hold of Alastor's hips and yanking him down while thrusting up, burying his cock again and again in that gloriously perfect heat.
"Oh, fuck!" Lucifer moaned out, arching, coming in bursts of pleasure inside the tight clench of Alastor's ass and the only thing that kept his wings from bursting out to fill the room was the pressure of the sofa against his back.
He flopped backwards, quivering with little aftershocks and distantly grateful for the sofa behind him for a multitude of reasons. Fuck's sake, he needed to get this under control. If he was going to start popping wings every time he came, he was going to be the one known for property damage.
Distantly, he could feel Alastor licking his chest, his tongue rasping like a cat's as he cleaned away the smudges of blood from the already healing wounds left behind by his claws. Lucifer managed to settle a hand into his damp hair, and Alastor startled, exuding a sense of almost guilt as he started to withdraw but Lucifer held him in place, silently urging him to finish. That wasn't even enough blood to count as a snack and it was already there, why let it go to waste.
Alastor finally lifted off him with a wince, letting Lucifer's softening cock slide free. The insides of his thighs were smeared with gold-tinted come, trails of it slowly dripping downward and Lucifer might've appreciated the naughty sight a little more if Alastor didn't grimace and press a hand into the small of his back, joints popping with a gruesomely breakfasty snap, crackle, pop. The tightness in his face was telling and alarm bells were starting to ring at the back of Lucifer's mind.
"Did I hurt you?" Lucifer demanded.
"Of course not," Alastor scoffed. He shifted to sit on the floor, his long, bare legs still draped over Lucifer's, darker skin against less than pristine white trousers. "Must we revisit the teacup speech?"
"No, no, once was plenty," Lucifer said and before his mouth could confer with his brain, he blurted out, "You'd tell me if I was hurting you, wouldn't you?"
Alastor let out a thoughtful hum, static-raspy, "That segue is intriguing." His eyes narrowed consideringly, "I thought we were past that, why are you so concerned about it now?"
Fuck, fuck, fuck, Lucifer was halfway to panic from the first sentence, fuck, Husk told him to keep it on the down low and Lucifer was already blowing it. Unfair that Alastor had the secret-keeping abilities of a priest in a confessional and Lucifer would trip over his own lips before accidently spilling them across the world.
What he should have done was introduce Alastor to the wonders of a ball gag to shut himself up. He hastily turned it back towards Alastor, if the trap was starting to close around you, righteous indignation was the best tool in the box. "Excuse me for my concerns when I literally just watched you flinch. I don't want to hurt you, that's all." Lucifer looked away, muttering out, "Someone else has been doing plenty enough of that lately."
"Hmm." Alastor seemed mollified enough for Lucifer to have a brief moment of hope, one that was instantly dashed, couldn't he at any point ever catch a break? "Would you care to revise your previous statement?"
"Huh?"
"Are you sure you don't want to rethink the line of bullshit you tried to feed me earlier?" Alastor clarified, "I'm rather particular about my diet."
"No, I wouldn't." That at least wasn't a lie at all. Lucifer reached over and caught hold of Alastor's arm, tugging him back over. He came willingly enough, settling back into Lucifer's lap and neither of them bothered about the mess of come slowly ruining Lucifer's trousers. All Lucifer cared about was keeping Alastor in his arms, pressing his cheek against his bare chest and listening to the thud of his heartbeat.
Maybe focusing on hating Box was a waste of emotion, maybe what Lucifer should be was grateful that Box was such a piece of shit that he lost out on what it could be like with Alastor, leaving an empty place for Lucifer to step into, a hole in Alastor's world shaped just for him.
Sudden pounding on the door made them both startle, before Vaggie shouted through it, "If you're done being disgusting in the common areas, Charlie is waiting to help prep dinner and I need time to incinerate the sofa!"
"Ah, I believe we've forgotten the importance of soundproofing," Alastor murmured, then raised his voice to call back, "Why are you assuming the sofa was involved?"
All that came back were incoherent sounds of rage and Alastor's grin widened appreciatively.
Lucifer gave the scant curve of one bare asscheek a pinch. "Stop before she burns down half the hotel."
"Better that than her helping with dinner."
"Speaking of dinner—" Lucifer was about to offer for Alastor to help out again tonight. Either he would agree and the three of them could come up with a recipe together or he'd be contrary and refuse to help to spite Lucifer for asking, which meant one on one time with Charlie. Either was a win in Lucifer's book but before he could offer that pinging sound rang out, the chime that was less a text message and more a summons.
"You need to leave," Lucifer said, already resigned to it. Dad and daughter dinner plans it was and if he was worrying about Alastor the entire time, well, Charlie probably would be, too, not exactly the kind of bonding experience Lucifer was hoping for.
What he did not expect was for Alastor to slip free, snagging hold of his coat and dragging it over so he could reach into the pocket. That pinging ceased and Alastor stood, for once unabashedly naked as he stretched. "No, I don't."
Um, what?
"Alastor—" Lucifer began, low, trailing off as he realized he didn't know what to say. He tried again, going with, "I thought…" only for that to trail away as well.
"I don't need to leave," Alastor repeated calmly.
That didn't match with Lucifer's observations at all, but he didn't know how to argue it. It wasn't like he wanted Alastor to leave but—
Lucifer only looked at him helplessly. He'd seen the lashes on Alastor's back, the bruises on his face still covered by that morning's glamour, didn't know if they were from defiance, couldn't imagine what was the reason if they weren't.
Alastor only looked back at him pointedly, arms crossed over his bare chest. "Come along, then, it's time to start getting dinner ready and while your skills as a chef might still be in question, as a cleaner you excel." He gestured at himself. "If you wouldn't mind?"
"Right," Lucifer muttered, unable to rise to the implied insult. He snapped his fingers and set both their bodies and clothes to proper, clean order. Alastor was straightening his tie when Lucifer started to gesture at the doorknob and hesitated, turning back to him, "Are you sure—"
"Are you trying to be rid of me?" Alastor said impatiently. He summoned his microphone, the end of it settling on the floor with a clack as he leaned on it, and it felt like a barrier between them. "I said I don't need to leave. I expect you can trust me to know my schedule better than most?"
Lucifer didn't know if he could trust that at all, but he nodded anyway, because any other answer would drive Alastor away and that wouldn't help. He took a deep breath and asked, carefully "Did you want to help with dinner?"
"Of course," Alastor said, and his cheerily manic smile was a match to his words, "I wouldn't miss it for the world!"
Yeah, that was exactly what Lucifer was afraid of.
He turned away, gesturing at the door and the knob was once again in place, unmelted and waiting to be used. Lucifer reached for it because he had to, leading the way back outside to the world that was waiting for them. To Hell.
-finis-