Archive of Our Own

Dawn was an interesting time in Hell. Well, as much as dawn could be when the sky was always red and merely shifted in hue to denote any passage of time. It wasn’t like dawns in the bayou. No dappled rays filtering through the myriad cypress trees and Spanish moss as the last of the nighttime denizens make their farewell calls until sunset.

Never one for much sleep when he was alive, Alastor awoke just as the darker crimson of the sky softened to a muted vermillion. Flashes from the night before played under his eyelids as his body went through the process of shifting from slumber to wakefulness. He felt his smile stretch and his claws flexed against skin. Skin that wasn’t his. If the groan that rose from just below his chin was an indication.

Ah yes, right. He had stayed with the king last night after a rather more arduous round of sex. On the nights he was inclined toward intimacy, he preferred Lucifer’s room due to the less likely chance they would be interrupted. The king also had a much larger bed. Convenient for the times Alastor’s shadow wanted to get involved. Which was becoming more frequent.

Typically, he did not stay the night. He was still coming to terms with this…need…craving…desire…for the king’s touch. He couldn’t quite put the right word on it. All of the above indicated a loss in some modicum of control over his own body, and that was absolutely unacceptable. It implied vulnerability, and that was something Alastor never displayed. He would rather die a second time than allow himself to be that exposed.

It was a contradictory thought, though, considering that he and the king often switched who took the lead in their nighttime escapades. But now that he thought back on all of the times he had been under the king, Lucifer always deferred to Alastor’s needs. Ever mindful and checking in throughout the act. Alastor had control in every encounter between them. If he asked Lucifer to stop, they stopped. No questions asked. He would return to his room for the evening and indulge in a few glasses of whiskey as the irritated buzz in his skin died down to something manageable. As it happened most nights.

He enjoyed watching Lucifer find his pleasure, even if Alastor always didn’t. It was a thing of beauty to watch the ruler of Hell come undone from his touch alone, face contorted in ecstasy as Alastor’s name fell from his lips in a series of gasps and cut off moans. On the nights he stayed, it was usually just until Lucifer fell asleep, needing the extra moments of contact to lull him into a peaceful rest. Alastor would then take his leave and retire to his own room.

Last night was different.

It hadn’t been the greatest evening for him. Called to an emergency meeting for the Overlords in the Pride circle to discuss a new arrival that was quickly making a name thanks to the recent string of violent acts across the territories. The majority were happening within Alastor’s, and thus it was his responsibility to handle the situation. Alastor walked away from the fight in one piece, although the other demon did not, and it had not gone down easy.

He returned to the hotel greatly agitated, hoping for the quiet evening he had planned. The day had already been long, and after fulfilling his duties as the hotel’s host, he had had to break up yet another nearly destructive argument between Angel and Cherri, wrangle Niffty off the newly installed chandelier in the entranceway, and then have to listen to Husks’s more colorful complaints about the lack of responsibility in helping keep the hotel a ‘toxic-free’ environment. Choice words from the ever-dour, meddling barkeep.

Just as he had been heading up to his room for a few moments of peace before joining Lucifer for what the king had promised to be an uninterrupted night of quality time together, he had received notice of the Overlords meeting. He sent his shadow to Lucifer to let the king know of this sudden request, and that he would not be long.

He hadn’t bothered to stop in his room first upon returning, opting instead to fade into his shadow just inside the hotel entrance and rematerialize in Lucifer’s room. He hadn’t been expecting the king to be waiting for him wearing practically nothing. The sudden urge that overtook him in seeing the ruler of Hell in that state was one he couldn’t suppress, no matter that he tried, not having the full wherewithal mentally to even crave intimacy in that moment.

But he was frustrated, tired, and Lucifer was so tempting.

What transpired between them was a round of rougher, more sensation-based sex than they had engaged in previously. He took the king to the edge several times before finally letting him fall over. His smile ever-present, wide and sharp as Lucifer begged and pleaded beneath him. Watching him shatter was a moment Alastor would lock away in his mind to pull out and replay whenever he needed entertainment.

It had all been touch-heavy, and by the end of it, Alastor knew he needed to be alone to let his body come down and recalibrate, so to speak, from the experience. But he had stayed, and not because Lucifer had asked him to. There was a niggling feeling in his chest as they adjusted themselves afterward to lay against the pillows, pulling Lucifer into his arms because he knew the king would need these extra moments of contact between them. The reassurance of foundation and trust. That after such intense intimacy, Alastor would stay and not leave the king in a wake of frayed nerves and tangled thoughts.

Alastor broke from his reverie as another soft groan emanated from under his chin. He didn’t open his eyes yet, but he did place one hand on the back of the king’s head and begin to run his sharp nails through his tousled blonde hair as Lucifer shifted against his body. It wasn’t an entirely objectionable way to wake up. Maybe a bit more skin-to-skin contact than he was comfortable with, but Alastor was coming to maybe…enjoy…moments like these. He would need to unpack that later when he was alone with his favorite bottle of rye.

One of Alastor’s ears twitched, tipping toward the king when he felt the change in his breathing pattern. Lucifer shifted again, tipping his head up this time and opened bleary eyes as his mouth stretched in a small, closed lip smile. “Good morning, Alastor.”

Alastor looked down at the king as he continued to pet and stroke his hair. “Good morning, sire.”

Lucifer sighed, closing his eyes. “Feels nice. Thank you for staying. I know it’s uncomfortable for you, but I appreciate you being here.”

Radio feedback buzzed quietly as Alastor considered, letting his body feel the length of Lucifer’s pressed against his own. “It is uncomfortable. But not unwanted.”

Lucifer yawned and tucked his head back under the demon’s chin. “That’s good to hear.”

They lay in silence for several minutes, breathing to the same rhythm. Alastor flicked through his mental tracks, selecting a soft, jazzy piano tune that he was fond of playing himself when he had the opportunity, but also enjoyed listening to. His oversensitive skin picked up on the twitch of Lucifer’s mouth, feeling it curve upward.

“Classy.” Lucifer commented without moving.

“One I am rather partial to. The melody invokes a sense of…patience.”

Lucifer grinned against Alastor’s chest. “A feeling you frequently struggle with.”

“Hmmm…” Static filtered around Alastor’s voice before tapering off, and the piano continued.

“We should probably get up.” Lucifer mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. He propped his chin on Alastor’s sternum. “You have hotel duties to get to.”

Both of Alastor’s ears twitched downward. “It’s still quite early, highness. Unless you’re kicking me out?”

Lucifer frowned. “Of course not. I was thinking about how you said you’re uncomfortable.”

Alastor quirked an eyebrow. “If I wanted to leave, I would.”

Lucifer settled back down. “Fair. Then by all means, please stay.”

“For a bit a longer. You are correct, I do have duties to attend to. But not yet.”

Lucifer hummed, settling back in against the demon. He tentatively wrapped one arm around his middle and held it loosely, waiting for Alastor to move it off. But he didn’t. He wrapped his hand around the back of Lucifer’s head, lightly dragging his nails through the king’s hair. His ears tipped back, settling. No sense in disturbing their moment of peace when there was no guarantee they would get another like this so soon.

~*~

When they finally extricated themselves from Lucifer’s bed, Alastor returned to his room with a pop of static and a swirl of shadow where he took the time for a stroll through his bayou. He was not due downstairs for at least another thirty minutes, and it had been some time since he allowed himself this indulgence. He emerged from the trees back into his room proper just in time for Niffty to bang his door open, a gleeful expression in her eye as she held up a rather large, dead insect in one hand, and her blade in the other.

“Look at the size of this one, Alastor.” She giggled before turning and tearing off back down the hallway, cackling.

Alastor took a moment to make sure his jacket and bowtie were straight, then grabbed his microphone staff, twirling it behind him as he made his way downstairs, humming quietly. The scent of frying dough and sugar reached his nostrils before he entered the kitchen, along with the din of cutlery and chatter. Upon entering he took in the collection at the table.

Cherri and Angel were trying to wrest a bottle of syrup from each other’s grasp, while Vaggie looked on in boredom, rolling her good eye. “Can’t one of you just take some, and then pass the bottle off?” she queried, stabbing her own fork down into a pile of fluffy fried dough.

Husker sighed dramatically from his perch at the end of the table and Alastor watched him pull a flask from his pocket and start pouring a healthy amount of liquor into his coffee cup. “Cheers.” He quipped to no one but himself, then downed the mug in one swallow. “I’m too tired for this shit.” He hopped down off his chair and walked out, greeting Alastor in passing.

Charlie turned from her place at the stove, and Alastor finally noticed Lucifer, draped in a ruffled apron (the only one in the kitchen) over his suit, flipping pancakes. And from the smell, they were apple pancakes. How quaint.

“Good morning, Alastor!” Charlie greeted him warmly, and he noticed Lucifer did not look up, or even acknowledge Charlie’s statement.

“Good morning, my dear.” He returned the princess’s greeting, radio filter crackling on. “Seems we may be in for another feisty day?” He glanced sideways at Angel and Cherri, still playing tug-of-war with the syrup.

Charlie looked nervously at the pair. “Uh, yeah. I’ve been trying to get them to talk all morning. Neither one of them will explain what happened.”

“They’re being idiots, babe.” Vaggie deadpanned as she walked to the sink and dropped her empty in the basin. “And you can’t fix stupid.” She said this last part loud enough for the spider and pyro to hear.

Both looked up frowning. “Who’s stupid? I know you’re not talkin’ about me.” Angel shot back. “I’m not the one who won’t admit that ignorin’ your feelings ain’t the same as dealin’ with them. Trust me, I know.”

“Fuck you! I am not. Ignorin’. Them.” Cherri grunted each word and gave the syrup bottle a yank, finally wrenching it from Angel’s grasp. The spider demon toppled on the bench, but caught himself on his lower arms, crossing the top ones over his chest.

“Lyin’ to yourself ain’t healthy either. I’m just tryin’ to help.”

“Well, I don’t remember asking for it.” Cherri pushed her plate away and rose from the table. “Lost my appetite.” She snapped, stomping from the kitchen.

Alastor watched the cyclops leave, then turned and quirked an eyebrow at Charlie. She grimaced as Cherri slammed the door, and the syrup bottle fell over on the table, thick amber liquid beginning to spread along the surface.

“I’d say we’re off to a pleasant start this morning.” Alastor grinned broadly.

“Not helping.” Vaggie snapped, grabbing a damp towel and rushing over to the table to begin cleaning up the mess. It disappeared before she could wipe anything, and they all turned to look at Lucifer, who was holding two fingers up, having just snapped them.

He returned his attention to the stovetop without a word.

“Angel, come on.” Charlie motioned for the spider demon to follow her. “Let’s go find Cherri and-“

“Oh no, I ain’t goin’ to sit down and try to ‘talk this out’ with her.” Angel sat up, brushing pancake crumbs from his jacket then leaned his head into hand. “She needs to figure her own shit out. I’m not lookin’ for an apology or nothin’. But I’m also not goin’ to be her emotional punchin’ bag. I do that enough already with Val.” He rose from the table and headed for the door, stopping to place one hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Sometimes you can’t force people to see the light until they want to. And even then, it gets hard to show them how bright it can be.” He smiled wanly at the princess, who raised a hand to pat his and she nodded in thanks.

“You’re right. We should give her space and time to cool off. She only just got here.”

“She needs time.” Vaggie offered, taking Charlie’s hand. “It’s a big adjustment.”

“I need to get to the studio.” Angel announced, then turned over his shoulder with a wink in Lucifer’s direction. “Thanks for the short stack, your majesty.”

Alastor grinned watching Lucifer’s lip curl at the jab to his height. Vaggie and Charlie followed the spider demon out, leaving Lucifer and Alastor alone. He walked up beside the king and watched him flip the last of the pancakes, stacking them neatly on a covered sheet pan, then switch off the burner. The cloyingly sweet smell of caramelized fruit still hung in the air, making Alastor cringe as Lucifer offered him a plate.
“Not this morning, but thank you, your highness.”

“That could have gone better.” Lucifer commented, taking the plate back and handing Alastor his coffee mug from the rack hanging over the stove.

“I think it went extremely well. All of the furniture is still in one piece.” Alastor grinned, playing his laugh track. He reached for the coffee pot, pouring a generous amount and then sipped the dark liquid.

“I really don’t know how you can drink it like that.”

Alastor took another long sip, and responded deadpan, “A penchant for bitter things.”

“Hmm, that tracks for you I suppose.” Lucifer grinned ferally, enjoying the banter.

“Contrarywise, I do not know how you expect to be taken seriously as the King of Hell if you insist on parading about in such…” Alastor paused and pointedly looked down at the king dressed in the apron, “questionable garments, ‘sugar-coating’ everything.”

It was a dig at Lucifer’s fondness for sweet foodstuffs, particularly breakfast items. Lucifer pouted and proceeded to yank the apron off, throwing it on the counter. “Says the man who won’t try my pancakes.”

Alastor leaned down, shifting his coffee to his other hand. “I don’t need to try them, sire.” Alastor whispered, “I already know how sweet you taste.”

Lucifer’s cheeks turned a very satisfying shade of burnished gold, and Alastor watched with a gleeful expression as that blush traveled up to the tips of the king’s pointed ears. Lucifer visibly swallowed and turned to stare at the Radio Demon, only to realize how close their faces were, and how it would not take much to close that gap.

The kitchen door slamming open forced them to move apart suddenly. Alastor was glad he had the forethought to hold his coffee in his other hand further from his person as it sloshed in the mug, dribbling over the side and onto the floor. Cherri stalked back in and looked around.

“Left my fuckin’ phone.” She snarled, grabbing the device off the table. “I’m goin’ out for the day. Tell whoever you think will give a shit.” She slammed back out the door grumbling and swearing.

Lucifer watched a crack form in the drywall just above the doorframe. He turned to Alastor, asking facetiously, “What was that about everything still being in one piece?”

Alastor’s smile widened menacingly, irritated feedback buzzing around him.

~*~

The rest of the day was not much better. Quieter, thanks to Cherri and Angel being absent from the hotel for the majority of the afternoon, but not better. Charlie had a laundry list of tasks she needed Alastor to complete, which now included repairing the wall and doorframe in the kitchen. Once done, Charlie sprang a surprise visit from two prospective new guests, and asked Alastor to show them around, while she attempted to sit Cherri down, who had just returned, and get her to open up a little.

By the end of the day Alastor did not have it in him to go to dinner, despite having not eaten since last night. He really didn’t feel hunger that much to begin with. Well, he did, but a hunger for violence and the need to rip apart demons for his own entertainment was something far different.

His skin still felt a little too tight and prickly. As though phantom claws were still digging into his flesh. Add to that the time he spent showing the two potential guests around and answering inane questions, Cherri and Angel getting right back into it the moment the spider demon returned from the studio, and Niffty deciding to use him as a personal transport service all afternoon, his social battery was running quite low.

He contented himself with sitting in an armchair in his room, sipping rye neat. He knew it wasn’t possible for him to suffer from a headache. But from what he could remember of his time as a human, this felt relatively close. There was an ache inside his head that throbbed just behind his eyes and traveled down his neck.

His ears felt full of cotton, and he couldn’t seem to stop the intermittent crackle of feedback that buzzed around him. Not unsimilar to a spasming diaphragm causing little pockets of air to be forced from the body at irregular intervals. Alastor leaned his elbow on the arm of the chair, cradling his forehead in his fingers. He sipped his whiskey a few times, hoping it would kick in a little bit faster. But no such luck. By the time he was on his third measure of amber liquor, his headache had only gotten worse. He didn’t know what else to call it right now.

“This is utterly ridiculous.” Alastor complained to himself. He set his glass down and sat back in his chair pinching the bridge of his nose.

There was short ‘tap, tap’, at his door and Alastor lifted his head enough to call out. “Just a moment.” He rose, pulling his jacket on. He made sure it was straight, and then fixed his bow tie. He opened his door with a flourish and a huge smile, belying anything that could come off as ‘wrong’ with him to whomever may be on the other side of the door.

Lucifer stood there looking contrite, almost guilty, for having disturbed Alastor. It was a little ridiculous seeing as he was the host of the hotel, and it was his duty to see to all guests’ needs, including the king of Hell. And if there was anyone in the hotel that could outright demand his presence, it was Lucifer. Well, he could try.

“Good evening, sire!” Alastor greeted the shorter man jovially, smile wide. “How can I be of assistance?”

“Uh…um, well…You didn’t come down for dinner. I was just…I wanted to make sure…” Lucifer stuttered, trying to find the right phrasing. He cleared his throat and tugged at his waistcoat to straighten it unnecessarily. “I just wanted to check that everything was all right. You seemed…distant today.” Lucifer blushed lightly, but didn’t look away from Alastor’s gaze.

The Radio Demon leaned down, smile sharp. “And you thought it wise to come up here yourself to inquire after me? You’re well-known verbal sparring partner?”

“Everyone is still at dinner. I said I was going to my own rooms.” Lucifer explained. “I just wanted to make sure you were ok. That this isn’t because of last night.” Lucifer whispered the last part, eyes flicking to the side to see if anyone was coming down the hall that may have heard.

“I can assure you, sire, that I am ‘ok’.” Alastor answered, mostly truthfully. There was nothing the king could do to settle the crawling sensation still present on his skin. Therefore there was no point in telling him that he was still feeling a bit prickly from last night. “It has been a challenging day, and I am afraid I am not up to anymore company this evening.”

Lucifer frowned, taking Alastor’s statement to mean him as well, and it did. There was still an aching throb inside his skull, along with the general feeling of irritation from the day’s events. He was, simply put, burnt out. And he needed time alone to gather himself back into his typical aloof, nonchalant persona. If that meant spending time apart from Lucifer, the king would have to accept it.

“Ok, well, will you let me know if you need anything?” Lucifer asked, stepping back from the threshold.

Alastor let his grin widen just a bit. “If I require anything that you, the king of Hell, can provide, I will make my needs known.”

Lucifer nodded once, and turned, vacating Alastor’s doorway. He heard the ‘whoosh’ of a portal opening a moment later, and then silence.

Relieved to be alone again, Alastor closed his door. He removed his jacket and bowtie, draping them on the rack just inside the entryway, and resumed his position in his armchair. He was glad to have the silence around him, although now it seemed to grate against his ears. He felt them twitch and tip back toward his head as the image of Lucifer’s frowning face played behind his closed eyes.

Was he wrong to send the king away? No, he didn’t think so. He genuinely was not feeling up to company tonight. And Lucifer respected that, even if it did seem to upset him that Alastor included him in his generalization of ‘any company’. If he felt justified in his turning Lucifer away, why did he have this nagging feeling that he had made a mistake? He must not be feeling well if he was beginning to question his own judgement.

He supposed now was as good a time as any to try and unpack his thoughts from this morning. Alastor refilled his glass then summoned a ball of green flame in his palm and shot it at the fireplace, igniting the logs within. They burned green for a moment before turning orange and red, tongues of flame already licking away at the bark, filling the air with a soft crackling that Alastor found immediate comfort in. He leaned back in his chair, letting his smile relax from its usual tautness to an almost flat line. He sipped his whiskey slowly, letting his thoughts turn to Lucifer and their time in his bed in the early morning hours.

He could still feel the softness of the king’s blonde hair against his palm. Feel the way his chest moved against Alastor’s own as he breathed. Smell his sleep-warmed skin and the ever-present scent of apple that hung around him like a saccharine cloud. What had he been thinking this morning as Lucifer lay against him in the moments just before he woke up. There was fondness attached to it, a warm sensation that crept through his torso, fluttering in the space between his stomach and heart twisting his insides into knots.

If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel the press of Lucifer’s lips against his own in the final kiss they had shared before Alastor departed from the king’s rooms. He sipped his whiskey again, tracing the tip of one claw along his own lips smearing around the drop of liquor that remained on them before he licked it off.

He had decided that he enjoyed being in Lucifer’s company, even the softer moments like this morning. Opposed as he was to the contact between them, making him uncomfortable, he had felt settled. At peace, even. Like he could let his guard down maybe just a fraction. He hadn’t. But he had let the thought cross his mind. And then quickly banished it as he imagined the vulnerability he would have to display. No matter that Lucifer has proven his discretion and would never take advantage. Being open on that level was something Alastor simply was not ready for. Didn’t know if he ever would be.

He stared into the flames for long minutes, half-full glass on his side table forgotten. The ache behind his eyes had mostly vanished, only to take up residence in his chest just behind his ribcage. It wasn’t entirely different, nor entirely similar, to the ache that persisted in the weeks following the battle as his wound healed. It both was and was not as sharp. It stung in a different way. There was no pain associated with it, only a thrumming ache that he couldn’t pinpoint. It swooped down to curl up in his stomach making him almost nauseas, then sprang right back into his chest as though there was trapdoor in his torso that could drop open at a moment’s notice.

It wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Disconcerting, certainly. And the more he pondered on it, the more Alastor began to feel that this was not a ‘bad’ feeling. It was new, and therefore scary, and extremely off-putting. But he didn’t want to dismiss it and act like it wasn’t there. He likened it to a healing bruise. The pleasure-pain sensation of poking your finger deep into the wounded flesh. The first moment of pressure on your nerves acknowledging the ache, and then the relief as you pull back.

Alastor grabbed his glass from the table and finished the measure of whiskey he had poured then stood and gathered his coat, bowtie, and microphone. There was entirely too much going on in his head at the moment, and he knew the best way to clear things out would be in his radio tower. He vanished into his shadows, reappearing in his chair at his broadcasting table.

As he began to power things on, he played an upbeat jazzy tune, humming along to the melody as he shuffled his stack of notes picking out what he wanted to send across the airwaves tonight. Hours slipped by unnoticed as he crooned into his microphone, mind pleasantly blank and body at ease. Yes, this had been exactly what he needed.

It was almost dawn before Alastor finally switched off his microphone and gathered his staff to return to his room. He would take the few hours of sleep he could get before rising once more to endure another day of chores and hotel responsibilities. He felt significantly more settled in his mind and body than he had been twenty-four hours previous.

He stretched in his bed, feeling his joints pop, then relaxed into a position more suitable for sleep. Except that he didn’t’. He lay there with the unmistakable sensation of feeling like something was missing.
Well, not something.

Someone.

~*~

Lucifer paused as he was about to enter the kitchen. He could hear Charlie inside speaking to Alastor in a somewhat worried tone. He didn’t want to eavesdrop on what could potentially be a private conversation, but he hadn’t seen Alastor in several days and he, too, was worried. Well, he had seen him around the hotel, but they hadn’t spent time together since the other night when Lucifer had gone upstairs to check on the Radio Demon after he had been missed at dinner.

It hadn’t escaped Lucifer’s notice that Alastor was acting distracted. He was more lost in thought than he normally allowed himself to be when in the company of staff or guests. He had something on his mind. Whatever it was, he did not deem it necessary to share with Lucifer. Which meant it was something extremely private, unimportant, or about Lucifer himself. A vain thought at the end there, but it also occurred to Lucifer that it could be a combination of all three, and he wasn’t sure how he felt if that was the case.

“Are you sure you’re ok, Alastor?” Charlie pressed, “You’ve been distant this week and spending a lot of time in your tower broadcasting until dawn. You look exhausted.”

Alastor’s radio static crackled in irritation, most likely from Charlie’s leading tone trying to get an admission from the demon as to why he had been acting more cold and aloof than normal. “I assure, Charlie, my dear, that I am perfectly well. I do not require much sleep and have been neglecting my radio show of late. I feel it pertinent to spend some extra time on the airwaves to make up for it.”

Charlie sighed audibly. “All right. If you say you’re fine, I believe you. I know you don’t believe much in sharing thoughts and feelings…”

Static popped loudly, interrupting Charlie’s sentence, and Alastor’s radio filter dropped in tone. “I do not. Nor will I be.”

“Ok, that’s fine.” Charlie placated, not sounding bothered at all, “I just wanted to offer.”

Alastor’s static dulled to a soft buzz, and Lucifer could hear his trademark smile in his voice. “I appreciate your concern, dear. And thank you. Now, I have much to do today. If you’ll excuse me.”

Lucifer jumped back from the door just as it swung open, hoping the expression on his face didn’t betray him.

“Good morning, your majesty.” He greeted Lucifer cordially.

“Good morning, Alastor. How are you?” Lucifer attempted to maintain an even tone that indicated he was trying to be civil with the individual that he was constantly bickering with.

“Splendid, sire. Just splendid.” Alastor answered brightly, wide smile on display. He twirled his staff in his hand before propping the base between his feet. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Um…uh…no. No, thank you.” Lucifer rubbed at one bare arm and pointed to the kitchen. “I’m just getting some coffee.”

“Excellent timing, sire, as I believe there is a pot freshly made.”

“Er…good. Fantastic.” Lucifer smiled tightly at Alastor and nodded then disappeared into the kitchen.

“Hi, dad!” Charlie greeted him brightly, smiling as he walked in. She and Vaggie were seated at the table going over a lesson plan, but Charlie put her pen down, watching as her father grabbed a mug from the rack and filled it with black coffee before taking a sip.

He immediately spluttered and set the cup down before going to the fridge to retrieve milk.

“You ok, dad?”

“Fine, why? Just a little scattered this morning. Didn’t sleep well. Ha ha.” He laughed dryly and added more milk than sugar to his cup, stirring several times before taking another sip. He grimaced. “Coffee is off this morning.”

“Dad, that was salt.” Charlie pointed out.

Lucifer turned around and gazed at the small bowl from which he spooned what he thought was sugar into his cup. He twirled a pinch of the crystals into the air and dipped the tip of a finger into it, then into his mouth. “Suppose I’m a bit more scattered than I thought.” He said, cheeks coloring in embarrassment.

“You and Alastor are both off this morning. Did you have another argument? I really wish you two would just sit down and talk things out. There’s no need for this constant competition and bickering.”

“The only thing I’m concerned about is Alastor getting violent.” Vaggie interjected. “I still don’t trust him. The bickering I can live with. It’s very entertaining hearing the barbs they fling back and forth.”

“Not helping.” Charlie hissed at her girlfriend. She turned back to her father with a soft smile. Lucifer glanced up from his ruined coffee meeting her hopeful gaze. “Dad, why don’t you try and talk to him?”

“Alastor? No, I don’t think so. We’re…civil for the time being. Let’s let it be.”

Charlie frowned but nodded, accepting her father’s conviction. “Ok. But if things start to get tense between you two again, I’m insisting that you sit down and figure it out.”

Lucifer saluted his daughter with his cup and turned to leave. He had the mug halfway to his mouth before he remembered the state he had rendered on it, and turned to dump the contents into the sink, leaving the mug behind.

He really did need to sit down with Alastor, though, and talk things out. Something was preoccupying the demon. Enough so that he was sequestering himself in his radio tower during the hours that he normally spent with the king. It could be a simple matter of Alastor needing space right now. Perfectly logical, and if that was what it was, Lucifer would respect it. But there was the chance that it was something more.

Lucifer couldn’t linger on it any more than he already had. His absent-mindedness in the kitchen was a clear indicator that he needed to take a step back and act like nothing was amiss with himself or Alastor. The foundation of what they had between them was built on discretion and trust. Lucifer felt like he had been tip-toeing the discretion line in front of Charlie and now he needed to pretend like it had never happened.

Lucifer opened a portal to his room and stepped through. He gathered his coat, hat, and cane before returning downstairs. He had back-to-back meetings this afternoon and needed to get his act together. He said goodbye to Charlie in the entranceway before opening another portal into the Lust ring and stepping through. Just as he turned over his shoulder to close it, he caught sight of a dark shadow in the corner of the hotel doorway smiling a mouthful of sharp teeth in his wake. It swirled out of sight just as Lucifer closed the portal. He turned back to the building in front of him, straightened his jacket, and twirled his cane confidently as he walked up the steps, pushing thoughts of Alastor and his errant shadow from his mind.

~*~

It was nearly midnight when Lucifer returned to the hotel, wrung out and exhausted. He had traveled to three different rings for various meetings to check in with the other rulers and overlords. There were a few issues he needed to address before returning next week to talk over solutions. He typically stayed out of the business of the other rings unless something required his personal attention as the ruler of Hell. But he did need to show his face now and again to reinforce his presence and position as King, and deal with any issues brought to his attention.

Too tired to eat, but too wired to go to bed, Lucifer made his way to the bar. He wasn’t expecting anyone to be there, so he was surprised to find Alastor perched on a stool sipping amber liquid, making small talk with Husk. The barkeep looked irritated as he wiped a glass down and put it back on the shelf. His upper lip curled showing a flash of fang, and his eyes narrowed. Not small talk then. Alastor grinned wide, amused, and set his empty glass down pushing it toward the cat demon for a refill.

Nothing for it. Lucifer strode over, sweeping off his hat and vanishing it and his cane to his room before occupying the stool beside Alastor. At first, he didn’t acknowledge the devil beside him, making one last remark to Husk as he accepted his fresh drink. “Do well to remember, won’t you, my dear friend?” Alastor tipped his head, grin stretching. He turned his attention to Lucifer. “Good evening, sire. You’re returning quite late.”

“Long day.” Lucifer mumbled, accepting the glass Husk placed in front of him filled halfway with apple whiskey. Normally he would drink something sweeter, but it had been a hell of a day, pun intended, and he needed to clear his head. Astute of the former overlord to notice. Then again, he was a bartender.

“Other sins running amuck?” Alastor queried.

“You could say that.” Lucifer sipped the whiskey, wincing at the burn. “How come you’re not broadcasting right now? You’ve been up in the tower every night this week at this time.”

Alastor closed his eyes as he sipped his drink, relishing the strong taste. “Been listening in?” He asked, looking down at Lucifer from under lidded eyes. “I didn’t know you had developed an interest since you’d never heard of my show prior to our first meeting.”

Lucifer swirled his drink, contemplating an answer. “I was curious.” He said after a moment, not looking up at the Radio Demon as he sipped his own whiskey.

Alastor grinned wickedly. “And what are your thoughts, dare I ask?”

Lucifer put his glass down and settled his chin in his hand, arranging his features into an expression of thoughtfulness. If Alastor was going to continue to be standoffish, Lucifer was going to throw it right back at him. Maybe that would spark an interest in conversation instead of him having to chase the demon down.

“It’s all right. Excellent music, but the host seems to be a bit bland lately. Very monotone.”

Radio static crackled threateningly, and Alastor’s smile stretched a bit wider. “Bland, you say?”

“Mm,” Lucifer made a noncommittal sound and sipped from his glass.

“Any suggestions on how this host may correct themselves?” Alastor asked, tone pitching low as his feedback increased in volume.

“I can provide notes.” Lucifer offered, letting a bit of sarcasm color his voice. “If you’re open to constructive criticism.”

“By all means,” Alastor offered, smile shrinking to a mere grin.

Lucifer turned on his stool, crossing one leg over the other. “Well, I’ve noticed that the host speaks almost distractedly. Like their mind isn’t entirely on the program. It does impact the show negatively, makes it hard to pay attention. Maybe they need to take a break.”

Alastor closed his eyes as he took another sip of his drink, smile serene. “Perhaps I have been over taxing myself.”

“Sounds like it.” Lucifer dropped the playful tone from his voice in favor of one a little more serious. “You do look exhausted.”

Alastor slit his eyes open, gaze landing on Husk. The bartender took that as a cue to dip out. Once he was gone, the Radio Demon turned back to the king of Hell, trademark smile in place. “Exactly what conversation are we having here, Lucifer?” He asked, using the devil’s name now that they were completely alone.

“I may have overheard you and Charlie in the kitchen this morning.” Lucifer admitted.

Alastor blinked and said nothing. It hadn’t been a private conversation, Vaggie being present and all. But the fact that the king found it necessary to eavesdrop still irked him a bit. “And you heard some…concerning things?”

“Not necessarily concerning.” He reached for the bottle of whiskey that Husk had left on the bar top and poured a measure into his glass. “But I do want to ask if there’s anything you need to talk about. About us, specifically. Or, if there’s anything that I did? Or, if this is about our last time together…” Lucifer trailed off.

The last time they had been intimate had been exceptionally intense. He reached his hand across the bar with the intention of laying it on Alastor’s, but he pulled back at the last moment. He didn’t know if Alastor was in the mood for physical contact, and he didn’t want the demon disappearing on him. Not when they seemed to be effectively communicating. Not that they couldn’t and didn’t. But it was difficult to get Alastor to open up and talk about his feelings. Which, Lucifer reminded himself, he had said just that morning was something he was not keen on.

Alastor was silent as he sipped his drink, eyes on the back wall of the bar. He didn’t acknowledge Lucifer’s hand as it drifted closer to his own, and then pulled back. “Don’t try and feed me that line ‘I assure you all is well’, because I know it’s not. I know I don’t ask you often to share your thoughts. I respect your privacy, Alastor. But I need to know. I need to know what’s going on in your head because I feel like I may be part of it.”

Alastor finished his drink and set his glass down on the bar. “Perhaps we should have this conversation somewhere more private? I am aware we are alone for the moment. However, Angel should be returning from the studio relatively soon and will no doubt avail himself of Husker’s poor, abused ears.”

Lucifer took the invitation, swallowing back the liquor in his glass, realizing only too late what kind he had poured for himself. It was decidedly not the apple whiskey. Alastor’s grin stretched as he played his track of canned laughter.

“Fuck you,” Lucifer swore.

Alastor’s answering grin demurred and he looked at the king from under his lashes. He gestured to the space around them. “After you, sire.”

Lucifer frowned, not sure what the Radio Demon was getting at, and opened a portal to his room. They stepped through and Lucifer closed it behind them. He shrugged off his coat, sending it to hang on the rack by his vanity where his hat and cane already rested. Alastor twirled his staff behind him as he walked further into Lucifer’s room, looking around.

“It’s only been a week since you were here last.” Lucifer noted, untying his bowtie and opening the top buttons of his waistcoat and dress shirt. “You don’t need to act like you’re your first time.”

“I am simply reacquainting myself.” Alastor answered primly. “As you say, it’s been a week. A very long week at that. Why, I feel as though years have passed in the last several days.” He turned to face the king.

Lucifer could see more clearly now in the brighter lights of his room, the shadows under the demon’s eyes. They were thrown into sharp contrast against his pale complexion making Alastor look a bit haggard. Lucifer gestured to his couch, summoning a bottle of wine and two glasses from a cabinet. “I hope red is all right. I need to fetch more from the manor the next time I’m there.”

“And here I thought you were developing a taste for finer flavors.” Alastor drawled as he crossed over to the couch. He left his staff leaning against the back then sunk onto the cushion beside the king. Lucifer poured them each half a glass. They forwent a ‘clink’, instead immediately sipping the robust bouquet.

“Much more my speed, if a bit a dry.” Lucifer commented, setting his glass back down. He turned to Alastor, reaching his hand into the empty space between them. “Please be honest with me. Tell me what’s going on in your head.”

Alastor sipped a moment longer before responding. His own hand lay close to Lucifer’s, the finger nearest twitching as though it sensed the devil’s proximity. “I have been sorting through some things, sire. Nothing to be…”

“No. Stop.” Lucifer held up his hand. He inched closer, finally laying his hand over Alastor’s. He took it as a victory when the demon didn’t flinch or pull away. “Talk to me, Alastor. Don’t feed me your bullshit excuses.”

Alastor felt his ears droop as he took in the pleading tone of Lucifer’s voice and the miserable expression on his face. There was a flash of guilt in his gut, and he wondered if maybe he had taken his isolation this past week a little too far. True he hadn’t said anything to Lucifer about needing time alone. Just that one evening. And that one evening had been a bit more introspective than he had been expecting from himself.

“I…I apologize.” Alastor said slowly. Lucifer reached over with his free hand and took the glass away from Alastor’s grip, setting it on the table in front of them.

“Ok, accepted. Thank you. Can you explain now what has got you so twisted in knots?” Lucifer inched closer again, turning and drawing one leg up onto the couch, bending it at the knee so that it pressed lightly into Alastor’s thigh, initiating another point of contact between them.

“I’m not sure that I can. It’s…complicated.”

Well, he was being honest at least, Lucifer decided. He reached for the bottle and refilled both their glasses, handing Alastor back his before taking his own. “Is there any part of it that you can talk to me about?”
Alastor took a long drink. “Not yet.”

So, it could involve Lucifer. All right, that was a start. He would take it. “Would it help if I told you I have also been dealing with some…things in my head this week?”

Alastor stared into his wine, considering. “It won’t prompt me to divulge anything further.”

Lucifer leaned in, “Not even knowing that it’s about you?” He asked quietly.

Alastor turned to stare at the king. Surely, he was not going through the same thought process? Alastor returned his eyes to his wine and took a thoughtful sip. “No,” He finally answered. “But it is gratifying to know that I occupy your thoughts so thoroughly.”

Lucifer smiled and set his glass back down. “You do, very much.” Lucifer spoke softly, fondly. “Alastor, I’ve missed you.”

Could he relate? Alastor took another sip of wine and set his glass down as well. It did tie in with where his ponderings have been at. Was he in a good state of mind for this tonight? Probably not. Did he want it? His body seemed to be in the affirmative to that thought as Lucifer leaned in closer and pressed his lips to Alastor’s neck in a light kiss. A modest gesture. A question. An offer.

His mind was still a complex web of untended emotions. One branching off into a dozen others. If he plucked at a single thread, everything else seemed to vibrate and trigger. Perhaps it would be wise tonight to try and forget it all. Let himself give in to baser desires and wipe his psyche clean of sense. He was running on fumes as it was, and that would not serve him well if he intended to process his mental status further.

He turned to the king and kissed him. Barely any pressure, just a meeting of lips that had not come together in days. The next kiss built on the first. A little more contact, a little more intent. Lucifer parted under him with a sigh, hand coming up to cup the side of Alastor’s face to hold him as the kiss deepened. The first touch of Lucifer’s tongue to his own had Alastor pressing closer, chasing after the devil’s mouth as he pulled back to begin unbuttoning the demon’s coat.

Once off, Alastor folded it over the back of the couch, then returned to Lucifer’s embrace, pressing him down until the king’s back was against the cushions. His knees parted to allow the sinner to lie between them, tugging him closer with a hand in his hair. Static buzzed and Alastor’s skin prickled in protest, but he pushed closer to the devil, delving his tongue in to Lucifer’s eager mouth.

He smiled against Alastor’s kiss, sharp teeth nipping the demon’s lower lip. His fingers fumbled with the harness across Alastor’s chest holding his suspenders in place, finally getting it unclipped and shoving the straps down the sinner’s arms. Alastor sat up to push them down further to hang at his waist, out of the way, and then began finishing the work Lucifer had started on his own waistcoat.

They were uncoordinated and impatient. Keen to be rid of each other’s clothes but unwilling to part long enough to divest themselves from their layers. Lucifer let go of Alastor’s waist with his left hand and held up two fingers, ready to snap them. Alastor grabbed his wrist and lowered his hand back down.

“No powers tonight.” He requested.

Lucifer nodded. More than happy to go about this physically. He captured Alastor’s face between his palms, pulling the deer demon back down. Alastor yanked the collar of the king’s dress shirt to the side and began to kiss down his neck. Lucifer sighed, eyes falling shut as he wrapped his arms around Alastor’s shoulders holding him tight.

“Bed,” he gasped out as Alastor rocked against him.

They rose from the couch with only a little difficulty, shedding clothing along the way. The insistent prickle along his skin, the feeling of it being stretched too tight, was beginning to return as they toppled to the mattress together, Lucifer landing atop Alastor’s body with a soft impact. Irritated static filled their ears followed by a record scratch.

Lucifer pulled back, feeling the tension in the demon’s body. “Do you need to stop?”

Alastor hesitated and Lucifer moved off of him. He sat up on his elbows, ears pinned back. “I think I need a moment before I can continue.”

“Ok,” Lucifer nodded. He reached for Alastor’s hand out of instinct, stopping when he realized what he was doing.

“No,” Alastor took his hand in his own, lacing their fingers together. “This is ok.”

Lucifer smiled, flexing their fingers together. He watched Alastor watch the motion, the emotions that flickered on his face for the briefest moment. He waited patiently as Alastor closed his eyes and stilled.

They slid open slowly, immediately finding Lucifer’s gaze. He didn’t need to say anything as he lowered his chin and tugged on Lucifer’s hand. The devil let himself be pulled back atop the radio demon, joining their mouths together in a slow dance as they restoked the fire between them.

Lucifer slotted a leg between Alastor’s, pressing gently into his semi-hard length. Alastor tensed below him but didn’t stop moving his lips against the king’s. He grabbed Lucifer’s face between his palms, holding the devil to him as he licked inside his mouth. He tasted of alcohol and tart sweetness and Alastor wondered if he bit the king’s tongue would it taste the same.

Perhaps another time.

Lucifer thrust against Alastor’s hips, seeking friction for his own erection, feeling it pulse with need. He was always so quick to readiness, but able to reign himself in if necessary. He pulled back from Alastor’s mouth with a smile, watching as the demon licked his lips as if to catch any lingering remnants of the king’s taste on them.

Alastor let his eyes open slowly, taking in Lucifer’s hooded expression before him. He felt one hand slide into his hair and pull his head back to expose his throat. Alastor grunted, a slow smile spreading across his face, and he chuckled darkly. Lucifer bent down and nipped at Alastor’s throat, pulling skin between his teeth, but not breaking the surface.

Static hissed and fizzled and Alastor’s eyes shifted to radio dials just before they closed again. His mouth hung open in a silent laugh, smile stretched wide. Lucifer tugged on his hair again, slotting his leg higher and deliberately pressed into the demon’s growing erection. When their gazes met Lucifer looked down at the sinner below him, eyes questioning. Alastor nodded once, answering Lucifer’s unspoken query.

Lucifer summoned a small bottle from the bedside table. This would be the extent of his powers tonight, as he wasn’t willing to get up from his current position. Alastor bent and spread his knees as Lucifer sat up and opened the bottle, pouring out a generous amount of lubrication.

He inched closer to the demon, lowering his left hand. “Tell me to stop at any time if this becomes too much.”

Alastor grinned, eyes on the king. “This is not my first time with you, my dear. I do recall the sensation.”

Lucifer pressed the tip of his finger against Alastor, watching the demon tense as a blat of surprised static echoed in the air. “Alastor, please. I know last time you were in control and while it seemed like you were unconcerned with all of the contact between us, I could feel it every time you moved. I don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated just because this is something I desire.”

Lucifer leaned down, dragging his fingers through Alastor’s hair to tip his head back and force the sinner to keep his eyes on him. “I want you to desire this just as much as I do.” He pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth then sat back on his knees, once more pressing the tip of a finger against him. “I acknowledge the fear and anxiety that you have, the disinterest and hesitation. I’m not trying to guilt you into being intimate. If at any time something doesn’t feel right, feels wrong, please tell me to stop.”

Alastor propped his upper body on his elbows. “You know that I will, sire. Trust me. This street goes both ways.”

Lucifer bowed his head. “True, you’re right. I’m sorry.” He crawled a bit closer, adding a touch more pressure to his finger, and used his right hand to push down on Alastor’s chest, pinning him to the bed. “Ready?”

Alastor nodded once, hands fisting the blankets. At the first press inside his head tipped back and static crackled fiercely mixed with the moan pulled from his throat. He could feel Lucifer’s eyes on him, intent and burning. His legs tensed and tried to close, but Lucifer shouldered between them, keeping them open.

He was slow and gentle, barely any movement at first. Just the pressure of the one finger moving inside. Lucifer ran the palm of his right hand up and down the planes of Alastor’s chest as he started to move with more intention, rubbing and sliding, crooking as he searched. Alastor let go of the blanket and threw his hands back to grab the pillow instead, feeling more anchored. His ears pinned back as Lucifer pushed deeper, adding a second finger. His smile twisted and flattened, then broke wide again at the unmistakable burst of heat inside when Lucifer pressed down on the right spot.

Alastor tipped his head up and heard his antlers scratch against the headboard. When had they extended? Microphone feedback popped and whined as he watched Lucifer work between his legs. His cock remained untouched, half hard and arching toward his stomach, fluid pearling at the tip.

Lucifer paused, drawing his hand down to rest on Alastor’s sternum. “Still ok?”

“Fine.” Alastor answered, not entirely sure if he was. But he didn’t feel the overpowering drive to shove Lucifer away.

He didn’t want the king to stop, even though indecision fluttered in his chest. His muscles contracted sending delicious heat through his abdomen and up his spine as his body constricted involuntarily around Lucifer’s fingers. A spark of fear bloomed in his stomach, momentarily nauseating him, but it was wiped away as Lucifer pressed down on the same spot inside.

Lucifer sat up on his knees and reached forward to wrap his hand around Alastor’s throat as he added a third finger. He didn’t squeeze, merely rested his hand on the front of the demon’s neck and lightly scratched his nails along his skin. “You’re tensing up. Talk to me.” He requested, stilling his hand and drawing the other from Alastor’s neck.

The Radio Demon grabbed Lucifer’s wrist and pulled his hand back around his throat with a wide grin. “I didn’t say stop.”

Purple lids lowered over Lucifer’s yellow eyes, and he squeezed briefly before pulling his hand back again. “If you’re trying to distract yourself, I will stop this.”

Alastor’s grin turned feral as tendrils of shadows edged out around him. “Trust, my king.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened for only a moment, and then he resumed the movement of his fingers as he leaned down crushing his mouth against the demon’s. Alastor was still gripping the pillow under his head, so he twisted shadowy arms around Lucifer’s torso, holding him against his chest. One snaked up the king’s back and into his hair, wispy fingers twisting around blonde locks.

Perhaps it was just this brief moment of control he needed to take back to recenter himself. Desire banked in his gut, and he felt his hips leave the bed, driving Lucifer’s fingers deeper. The king kept up his current rhythm as their mouths moved together in a pattern of presses, gasps, and curling tongues. It was messy and too wet for Alastor’s liking, but he didn’t let Lucifer go.

He felt when the king finally pulled back from his prep, shifted between his legs, and nudged his erection against Alastor. He reached up grabbing the demon’s hands to thread their fingers together. “Tell me when.” He whispered in Alastor’s ear.

Alastor pulled his shadow back in, then reached his hands around Lucifer’s shoulders, cupping them. He closed the gap between their mouths in a deep kiss, dragging Lucifer’s bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled back, squeezing the king’s shoulders. “Now.”

Lucifer pushed forward in a single slide, bottoming out as Alastor scraped his nails down the length of his back, golden lines trailing in their wake. He lifted one hand and dipped the tip of a claw into his mouth licking off the angelic blood. He kept his eyes on the king, making sure he was watching.

“That really should scare me more than turn me on.” Lucifer panted, hips already building a rhythm as he drove into Alastor at a steady pace.

Alastor’s response was sassy, radio filter thick as he spoke, “You’re the king of Hell, sire. What could possibly scare you knowing that you’re more powerful than I?”

Lucifer didn’t answer. He turned his head to kiss the inside of Alastor’s arm before the demon dropped them, hands curling around the king’s waist. He held the devil above him as they moved mostly in sync. Alastor was still discovering the art of keeping in tandem with the king because of their height difference, but it didn’t stop them as they settled into a rhythm that was only slightly off from each other.

Words ceased and the air filled with the buzz of changing radio stations. There was another scraping sound of wood being gauged when Lucifer thrust deep, hitting Alastor just right inside. The king grinned up at his headboard knowing he wasn’t going to be removing that mark any time soon. Alastor squeezed his thighs around his hips in encouragement and bit at this ear, wrenching a shocked gasp and moan from Lucifer. He sped up, feeling his climax approaching.

“Are you close, sire?”

Lucifer bit his bottom lip, nodding vociferously. “Very.”

Alastor grinned and drew his nails down the king’s spine. Lucifer shuddered and then thrust hard, stilling as he moaned. Blackened fingers dug into Alastor’s chest, drawing thin red lines down his scarred skin. He twitched as aftershocks rolled through him, shoulders hunching in tension, and then relaxing.

Alastor was still semi-hard underneath him, although he trembled as Lucifer shifted against his length. Not sure if this was welcome or unwanted, he lifted his hips just enough to get a hand between Alastor’s legs, then paused.

“Do you want to finish?”

Radio feedback fizzled louder for a moment before regressing to a dull buzz. “I think I do.” Alastor answered honestly. He was aching awfully, and not just his joints. The incessant pressure in his groin did not want to be ignored this time. They shifted slightly, Lucifer pulling out with a soft gasp. Alastor twitched involuntarily and his body convulsed around nothing. It was an odd and hollow feeling that he was still getting accustomed to. Although no amount time would ever teach him to like the slippery feeling of fluid leaking from his body. Lucifer snapped his fingers, cleaning him, and Alastor felt his nerves calm, no longer focused on such an uncomfortable sensation.

“I know you said no powers, but you were cringing as soon as I pulled back.” Lucifer smiled sheepishly, cheeks warming.

“I will allow that as I truly do detest the…dampness associated with having you inside. Not that I dislike feeling you, sire. Just the end result.”

“I understand.” Lucifer offered a sympathetic expression. He did understand though, having Alastor inside his own body frequently enough. “Would you like me to touch you, or do you want to do it yourself?”

Alastor considered the question, eyes drifting between the king’s hand on his thigh, his own erection, and the softness in Lucifer’s gaze. “Together, I think.”

Lucifer grinned and cast his eyes down between Alastor’s legs, wrapping his hand around part of his length. Alastor reached down and wrapped his hand around Lucifer’s. He drew the king to him with his free hand, slotting their mouths together as they began to stroke.

He could feel the tell-tale slip of control as primal instincts took over, driving his hips upward into their joined grasp. Lucifer whispered words of encouragement and praise in between heated kisses. They rankled against Alastor’s consciousness, and he wrapped his hand around the king’s throat, gazing at him in warning. He didn’t want to be praised. Not for this.

Lucifer understood, ceasing his undesired litany of words, and returned his focus to the job at hand. He smiled sharply against Alastor’s mouth as the thought drifted through his mind, but he didn’t voice it. He paid more attention to Alastor’s breaths as they quickened, the tensing of his body as his erection filled out and pulsed in their hands.

When a thick droplet of fluid pushed from the tip, he swiped his fingers through it and rubbed it around the head. Static squeaked loudly in his ears, and he bit down on Alastor’s tongue in his mouth just hard enough to keep the Radio Demon from withdrawing it. Lucifer ran his hand up the side of Alastor’s face, carding his fingers into red hair, and pulled the sinner closer, plunging his tongue into his mouth.

Alastor felt right on the edge. He gripped Lucifer’s wrist, holding his hand in place where it was threaded in his hair and returned the king’s kiss with equal fervor. Another pulse between his legs, stronger than before, had him breaking away and looking down. He turned back to Lucifer, eyes wide, but lidded. Another thread of control snapped inside him as he let Lucifer tip his head back and latch onto his neck. The dual action of sharp teeth pricking his skin and the king’s nails grazing the oversensitive skin of his cock had him convulsing on the bed. Lucifer quickly slotted a leg between Alastor’s, pinning the demon down with this hip.

Microphone feedback screeched at an earsplitting volume as he climaxed, feeling it hit his stomach and begin to cool almost immediately. When his mind resurfaced from the void it had fallen into, he was aware of something warm wiping down his body. It made his skin crawl despite the softness of it, and he reached for where it lay on his stomach shoving it away.

“Sorry,” Lucifer apologized, removing the cloth he had retrieved to clean up. He vanished it and sat back, putting a few inches between himself and the demon. Alastor blinked his eyes open noticing immediately that the king had scooted back.

“Thank you,” He breathed, and took a few moments for his body to recollect its senses. Anxiety and uncertainty wormed their way around inside his torso. He had never let himself give over to desire like that before. It was what he had wanted at the start of this tonight. But lying here in the aftermath of it had his mind whirling with fear that this had been a bad idea.

“May I touch you?” Lucifer asked, watching Alastor’s grin change shape rapidly and his eyes flicker from dials to their normal red, back to dials.

“Not yet.”

Alastor closed his eyes, mentally collecting the frayed ends of his nerves and began to stitch them back together. Slowly, his control came back, and he was able to manipulate his limbs and push himself up into a sitting position. He felt his antlers retract and return to two prongs, and he reached up to untangle his hair.

Lucifer watched the whole ordeal, remaining silent. Finally, Alastor looked over at him, grin tight but not threatening. He patted the spot beside him and Lucifer moved closer. He didn’t realize his tail had come out until it whipped against the bedspread, spade tip thumping once. Alastor reached a tentative hand out and Lucifer met him halfway, letting his tail lash around the sinner’s wrist and squeeze.

“I have about as much control over mine as you do yours.” Lucifer explained as the spade tip waved freely.

Alastor’s face reddened involuntarily, and his own tail attempted to wag where it was pinned below him. He typically did not pay it much attention, finding it distracting and a nuisance. He wasn’t entirely opposed to the king’s penchant for always wanting to play with it and stroke it or run his sharp fingers through it and tug. But only at times when he openly invited the attention. Just as Lucifer was doing now, twirling his tail higher and higher up Alastor’s arm, not unlike a coiling snake. It was a fitting comparison.

The king pulled his tail back after swiping the spade end against Alastor’s cheek in an affectionate gesture and inched closer. They reclined against the pillows and were immediately reminded of the damage to the headboard when chunks of wood prodded into Alastor’s back. Lucifer snapped his fingers, clearing the detritus, but left the sizable gauge from Alastor’s antlers.

Lucifer turned on his side, folding his arms under his head and watched Alastor as he seemed to be turning something over in his mind. “Penny for your thoughts?” He asked.

“They’re worth quite more than just a penny, sire.” Alastor retorted, radio filter crackling on mid-sentence.

“Of course they are.” Lucifer grinned back playfully. Then his expression turned serious, and he fixed Alastor with a meaningful stare. “What’s on your mind?”

“Just contemplating the shadows that reside in the deeper recesses of my consciousness.”

Lucifer frowned. “That’s dark. Anything you want to talk about?”

Alastor chuckled darkly. “You expect my mind to not be dark? How optimistic of you, sire.”

Lucifer quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t be a smartass. Seriously, do you need to talk something out?”

“Not currently. I am merely reflecting.”

“Hm, I suppose that’s good. You’re not immediately disappearing, so I’ll consider that positive progress.”

“I can leave if that’s what you prefer, your majesty.”

Lucifer sat up suddenly, reaching out. “No, please, I want you here. I always want you here.” He spoke the last part quietly, laying his hand on Alastor’s sternum. And then realized what he said and pulled back. “Sorry,”

“Why are you apologizing, sire?”

“I didn’t mean to touch you.” Lucifer lied. He breathed slowly as he settled back down. That had been too close. He was too caught up in the moment between them and almost said something that could dash this…whatever this was…between them.

Without knowing if Alastor even felt the same way, if he was even capable of it, there was no use entertaining the thought. Lucifer was grateful for what they had right now. He didn’t want to lose it over something, a feeling, that he wasn’t sure Alastor would, or even could, reciprocate.

He curled up, getting comfortable on his side. He wanted to curl in against Alastor, but hesitated. He felt somewhere in between not wanting his touch to be rejected, but also wanting to respect Alastor’s need for space. Thus, it shocked him when the demon turned on his side and gathered Lucifer into his arms pulling him close. He gasped audibly, unable to hide his surprise. He tucked in just a bit tighter, and was happy to feel Alastor’s claws carding through his hair.

“I could feel you practically vibrating beside me.” Alastor breathed.

“As much as I want this, I don’t want you…”

“If I have to repeat one more time my ability to choose for myself, I will cease any future attempts at initiating any form of contact between us.” Alastor interrupted, knowing where the king was going. He had looked up at the demon, eyes soft, and tail whipping behind him in small, anxious movements.

Alastor spoke firmly, and seriously, but smiled gently. Well, as much as he could. He wanted Lucifer to know he wasn’t trying to be nasty, merely earnest. He knew Lucifer was acting out of genuine concern for Alastor’s needs, but the constant questioning of his decisions when it came to these moments between them was grating, and getting old.

Instead of more words, Lucifer could tell they were both out of them now, he nodded into Alastor’s chest and shifted, getting just a tiny bit more cozy against the Radio Demon. Alastor’s body relaxed a fraction, dipping his head to press his nose into Lucifer’s hair. This was acceptable. This was ok. He held the king of Hell in his arms until he arose just before dawn.

Alastor dressed while watching Lucifer sleep on, his body replaced with a oversized pillow. Lucifer had curled around it completely, hugging it tight. His disheveled blonde hair stuck out in all directions, and his tail thumped gently against the mattress every few seconds. Alastor paused to admire how peaceful and truly angelic Lucifer was in sleep. Everything was softer. Alastor felt his lips curl up in a fond smile, an expression he found himself wearing more often recently.

He tucked his microphone behind his back and turned to go, needing to prepare for his early morning broadcast. Lucifer sighed and made a sleepy sound behind him, and Alastor turned to watch the devil stretch in his sleep and then curl back up into his pillow. He was being entirely foolish. An altogether new feeling. He added it to the list of threads that seem to be coming loose within him every time he spent the night in this room, or was with the king in any way.

Alastor walked quietly over to the side of the bed and leaned down to place a kiss on the top of Lucifer’s head. He felt his cheeks burn as he pulled back, and his mouth stretched into a smile. It mirrored the smile that slowly crept across Lucifer’s face as Alastor straightened.

“Sleep well, sire. I will see you soon.”

He turned and vanished into his shadow. Later that morning at Charlie’s exercise he received several comments that his broadcast had been unusual. More chipper. Alastor merely grinned at the assembly before him and promised to endeavor to do worse next time. How could he possibly hope to maintain his reputation if he was considered to be chipper?

Sitting in the corner, Lucifer smirked into his overly-sweetened coffee. He cast a sideways glance at Alastor, catching the demon’s eye. The corner of his mouth lifted, matching Lucifer’s grin. The king returned his attention to his cup, blaming the sudden heat in his cheeks from the steam.