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Lucifer frowned, double- and then triple-checking the recipe before him.
Garlic, ginger, scallions - check.
Noodles - check.
Chicken broth - check.
According to the recipe and the overly perky girl in the instructional video, he should be set.
So then why the fuck did his ramen look like a nest of worms wriggling in a mud-coloured pool, and not the golden, delicious glory that was shown in the video?
He sighed, turning the heat to the stove off and angrily closing the browsing tabs on his laptop. Perhaps he had added too much soy sauce. Or maybe there was something wrong with the shiitake mushrooms? He knew he shouldn’t have trusted that sketchy sales lady at the supermarket. Those people would try to sell you anything.
In truth, the ramen didn’t even really smell good, but considering he had just spent the better part of two hours making it, he wasn’t about to just not eat it. Besides, it was nearly 3 AM, and he was not in the mood to wander dejectedly back to his room to continue his little stare-at-the-ceiling-and-brood fest.
No, he was eating this fucking ramen, so help him, and he would fucking enjoy it.
With that thought firmly in mind, he pulled out a bowl and began sloshing the ramen inside. Ugh, what the fuck had he even added to make it so thick?
He should have stuck with pancakes.
Sighing once more, he sat himself at the table, staring forlornly down at his bowl of - well, goop, really.
Alastor would cook me something better, he thought, and immediately shoved the notion aside. It was true, the Radio Demon would have cooked him some sort of delicious, calorie-filled soul food, even if it did happen to be three o’clock in the morning. Alastor had never once complained about Lucifer’s insomnia (likely due to the fact that he often suffered the same), and Lucifer happened to be well aware that the demon loved nothing more than the chance to show off, culinarily or otherwise. And, as it so happened, his food was truly to die for.
But no. Alastor was out on a business trip, arranged by Charlie, to try to round up some more sinners for the hotel from other parts of the Pride Ring, not just Pentagram City. His daughter had the notion that just about everyone residing in Pentagram City had heard their message loud and clear, and was now either laughing at them or actively choosing to ignore them (most likely true on both accounts). Pentagram City was far from the only city in the Pride Ring, however, and there must be someone out there who could be convinced to move into the hotel.
Who better to win them over than Alastor, a demon who owned more souls than any other Overlord, renowned for his power of persuasion and his ability to coerce people into doing exactly what he wanted?
So he had went, and had now been gone for over two weeks. He still kept regular contact with Charlie (and subsequently, Lucifer) through the rotary phone that they had installed in the Hazbin’s office. He was due back any day now, something that Lucifer would never admit he was secretly thrilled about.
Despite the aggravation the demon caused him (on top of his incessant mocking, snide quips, and otherwise prickly nature), Lucifer found himself missing the tall, strawberry-flavoured fuck. Their relationship - if it could even be called that - was still new and tentative, and it had not been worth kicking up a fuss when Alastor accepted Charlie’s proposal for the little venture. He understood that the hotel came first, and that they both had jobs to do for the betterment of Charlie’s dream.
That didn’t stop the king from fucking the sinner six ways to Sunday before he left, however.
He had been proud to see Alastor well and truly limping the morning he was set to leave, his smile stretched taut and his ears flicking in annoyance. When he had the audacity to complain, Lucifer had rolled his eyes and suggested he pop a Midol to take the edge off.
He had needed to replace his entire vanity set after that little quip, but it was so worth it. Getting under the Radio Demon’s skin was a thrill all in its own.
But now it had been just over two weeks - seventeen days, to be exact, but who’s counting? - and any amusement he had gleaned from his little version of a going away party had long since faded. He missed the fucker, okay? There, he admitted it. He missed grousing with him, he missed the way that Alastor brewed the morning coffee just right, he missed those warm crimson eyes and the soft, barely-there smile that would sometimes be aimed his way when he was sure Alastor thought he wasn’t looking.
And now he was sat here, with a bowl of shitty ramen, wishing that his sinner would return to him and cook him something worthwhile. Pathetic, really.
Groaning, Lucifer wrangled his chopsticks in one hand and his renge spoon in the other and dug in to his sorry attempt at a midnight snack. The taste wasn’t terrible, if one could get past the horrendously over-cooked noodles and weird, burnt aftertaste. As far as shitty late night snacks went, it fell somewhere between ‘McDonald’s fries after a night of binge-drinking’ and ‘pizza from that place that may or may not be a drug front’. All in all, not horrible, but also not great.
“I should have just made Cup Noodles,” Lucifer said to himself, his mouth twisting as he shoved the bowl away after only a few bites.
“As much as I find the notion of microwavable meals deplorable, I’m afraid I must agree, dearest,” a voice said, and Lucifer whipped around in his seat, his eyes widening as he caught sight of Alastor.
The Radio Demon stood in the doorway of the kitchen in all his scarlet glory, leaning on his microphone with a small smirk on his face.
While Lucifer’s initial reaction was shock, swiftly followed by surprised joy and a healthy side of relief, it only took him a moment to spy the bags sitting heavy under Alastor’s eyes, and the stressed, tightened way his shoulders were squared.
The sinner was clearly tired, and clearly stressed.
“How’d it go?” Lucifer asked, his voice slightly hushed as his eyes roved over Alastor’s form.
Despite the weariness of the sinner’s face and posture, the rest of him was impeccably put together, as always. Seeing Alastor this way, so straight-laced and prudish, had never done anything for the king other than raise the desire in him to tear the demon apart, until there was nothing left but a begging, debauched mess left behind.
The debauchery would have to wait, however, as Alastor heaved a heavy sigh and stepped into the room, skirting the table before taking a seat next to Lucifer. He crossed his legs, his ankle resting on his knee, and set his microphone aside.
“Not well, I must admit,” he said. “It seems that regardless of their imminent destruction, many sinners are simply not interested in being redeemed, despite our dear Charlotte’s best efforts.”
Lucifer groaned, sliding down in his seat until he could tip his head against the backrest. “I figured. I keep trying to tell her that most sinners are in Hell for a reason, and have no interest in being redeemed. Why would they, when they have all the sex and drugs and other deviancies they could ever want down here?”
“I’m sure she will find someone. She is determined, after all, and perhaps one day she can even force Heaven to comply with her wishes using good intentions and brute benevolence alone,” Alastor said contemplatively.
Lucifer was surprised. In all the months the Radio Demon had been staying here, he had never once expressed that he thought the hotel might work out. Sure, he was helping, but some people were also dragged to church on Sundays by their great aunt Bertha: that didn’t mean that they actually believed.
“So you found no one? Not one soul willing to give it a shot?”
“Well, there were a few maybes…” Alastor shifted in his seat, his smile taking on a mischievous edge. “I also found a few wayward souls that suited my own purposes.”
Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Of course you did. You’re a greedy shit, you know that?”
“We all have our vices,” the demon said with a lascivious smile, his hands spreading in a ‘what can you do?’ gesture. “Now, what did you happen to get up to while I was away, sire?”
Lucifer shrugged. “The usual. Hotel maintenance. Helped Charlie build one of those trellis things for the back patio. We managed to find some sort of plant for it that will actually tolerate Hell’s climate, but from what I understand it’s carnivorous, and has a weird but insatiable preference for mutton. So, pretty much your average two and a half weeks in Hell.”
Alastor was giving him some sort of side eye look as he clicked his long claws along the surface of the stainless steel prep table. Lucifer watched him in turn, trying to figure out what that little flicker in those scarlet eyes meant. He had seen Alastor angry, aroused, peevish, disgusted, and even happy (or so he’d like to think), but never this weird, flinty emotion that hid behind his eyes like a chained dog pacing around its yard.
“So nothing of… any significant entertainment, then?” the demon asked carefully, checking the backs of his claws as if he didn’t care for the answer one way or another.
“Uh, no? I mean, you missed out on two of the weekly movie nights, but I know you don’t like those, anyway.”
“Ah. No interesting guests choosing to drop in?”
“No…?” Lucifer said, drawing out the word in his confusion. Why was Alastor asking that? He had some weird shadowy voodoo connection to this place, and would know if they had any new guests. So what…?
Oh.
Oh.
“Alastor…” Lucifer said slowly, weighing his words carefully. “Are you… asking me if I… y’know…”
The sinner’s scorching gaze met his own, his brow cocking in both a question and a challenge. A bright flare of annoyance surged through Lucifer’s chest at the expression. Did he honestly think that Lucifer would just pick up anybody off the street, the moment that the demon was out the door and over the hill? Did he truly think that little of him?
“Well, whatever the fuck you’re thinking, I didn’t do it,” the king snapped. He reached for the pepper shaker and rolled it between his fingers, trying to distract himself to quell the anger and hurt welling in his chest.
He had never cheated on any of his partners, not once. Mind you, he had only had one before Alastor, but still. He had never slept with anyone outside of Lilith’s express permission, in all the 10,000 years since he had been in the pit. It hurt more than words could say to think that Alastor assumed he was out trouncing around on a pussy and/or dick hunt the second the sinner said his farewells.
Any joy he was feeling over Alastor’s return quickly dissipated. With a grunt he suddenly slammed the pepper shaker down onto the table and pushed back his chair, moving to stand.
“I’m tired. I think I’ll- yeah. Bed,” he said, anger and sadness and something akin to disappointment filling his chest, constricting his lungs and making it hard to breathe. “Night,” he muttered as he made for the door.
He was stopped by a strong grip on his bicep, his feet fumbling for a moment as he was whirled around, until he was practically nose-to-nose with Alastor.
“Hey!” he shouted. “Let me-”
His words were abruptly cut off as the sinner pressed his lips to his own, silencing any protests the king might have had. The way Alastor kissed was demanding: all tongue and teeth, nipping and sucking and biting, forcing submission from his partner as he carved his way into their mouth with his own. It had always been that way, and Lucifer loved the thrill it sent up his spine whenever they did this.
Now, though, the kiss was being used as a weapon against him, a tool to shut him up while Alastor took his fill.
Yeah, fuck that.
Using a little of his divine strength Lucifer gave the demon an almighty shove, wincing when those sharp teeth dragged across his bottom lip and split the tender flesh open. Alastor hit the table with a grunt, his ears pinned flat to his skull and his expression one of annoyance.
“Whatever was that for?”
“You- you- fuck you!” Lucifer shouted, swiping at his split lip with the back of his hand. He didn’t fail to notice the way Alastor’s eyes tracked the movement, pupils glued to the golden blood. Oh, this little shit. “You can’t just come in here, accuse me of cheating, and then expect to kiss me and make it all better!”
“Well, you didn’t, did you? Therefore, I don’t see the problem.”
Lucifer couldn’t help but huff out a hysterical laugh, pulling at his hair a little in frustration. It was way too late (or early, rather), for this shit.
“It’s the accusation itself that’s the problem, asshole. You really think I would do that to you? Go out and catch whatever cock or cunt happens to walk by first?”
“Seventeen days is a rather long time for some,” the sinner said with a shrug. Guess Lucifer wasn’t the only one keeping track of the days, then.
“You know, for a really smart guy, you’re such an idiot,” Lucifer snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. “Even when my marriage was crumbling around me I never even considered cheating on Lilith. After she left, it took me seven years to find someone else. You think I would just toss our- our whatever away over seventeen days? That’s a really shitty thing to think, Alastor.”
The Radio Demon’s expression had changed. His face was now pinched, his smile pulled down at the corners. “Forgive me, I-” he started, then stopped, his brows furrowing.
“You what?” Lucifer said, impatient.
“I did not think that our relationship meant this much to you.”
It was like a physical blow. Lucifer flinched back, fighting to keep how much that had hurt from showing on his face.
I did not think that our relationship meant this much to you.
Did that mean that Alastor didn’t feel the same? That whatever was between them - that Lucifer - meant next to nothing to him?
It felt like a chunk of flesh and bone had been torn straight from his chest. He was overreacting, he knew- hell, they had only been together for what? Four months? In the grand scheme of things, that was hardly any time at all. He couldn’t expect that the sinner would feel the same: Alastor was so fractious by nature, never letting anyone get close, Lucifer should consider it a blessing that the demon even gave him an ounce of what he had, but oh, oh how it hurt to know that the demon didn’t care for him, would think that Lucifer would walk out at the first opportunity, would practically expect - no, allow - Lucifer to leave-
“I meant,” Alastor interrupted Lucifer’s spiral by cupping the fallen angel’s face between his palms, his long fingers tracing all the way up to Lucifer’s hair. “That I did not think that you held our relationship in the same regard that I do, mon ange.”
“What?” said Lucifer, shocked.
“I… care for you, Lucifer. I would do everything in my power to keep myself or others from hurting you. I had just assumed that… well, that you did not reciprocate my feelings. You could have anyone , dearest, and I admit that while that thought is somewhat distressing, I have accepted it as a fact. I had never assumed that you would wish to remain monogamous, not with every sinner and hellborn from here to Wrath practically throwing themselves at your feet.”
It took Lucifer a moment to process what Alastor had said. He… cared for Lucifer? He really, actually cared?
“You are such an idiot,” Lucifer whispered, and before the demon could react, he was gripping Alastor’s hair and forcing their mouths together.
The sinner startled at the unexpected action, then let out a high, sharp moan as he got a taste of Lucifer’s blood still lingering on his bottom lip. The cut was already healed, but it only took the king sucking his lip into his own mouth and biting down harshly for that to be rectified. Alastor lapped at the pinpricks Lucifer’s fangs had left behind, eager and wanton in his quest for angelic blood - no, Lucifer’s blood.
Before long Alastor’s hands traced down Lucifer’s back, pressing into the dip of it and forcing their hips together. The height difference made it a little awkward, but Lucifer could still feel the way that Alastor’s erection was pressing hot and hard into his belly, twitching with need already.
My, what an eager deer he had on his hands tonight.
In response he dragged his fingers out of Alastor’s red-and-black curls, bringing them to the sinner’s hips and encouraging him backwards a step until he was pressed against the table. He hummed as he licked into Lucifer’s mouth, drawing a moan from the fallen angel. Fuck, Alastor was intoxicating, and he felt like he would never be able to get enough.
Lucifer reached one hand out behind Alastor’s back, fumbling a little until he felt the forgotten bowl of ramen brush his fingers. He swept out his arm, sending the bowl and utensils crashing to the floor, no doubt spilling broth and noodles everywhere.
“You’ve made a mess,” Alastor mumbled between kisses.
“I don’t care,” Lucifer panted against his lips. “Fuck, Al, I don’t care.”
His need was frenzied and fervent, burning through him as he gripped the sinner’s waist and lifted him, planting his ass right on the spot that the bowl of ramen had sat not ten seconds prior.
Alastor made a happy sound in the back of his throat at the action and wrapped his impossibly long legs around Lucifer’s waist, crossing his ankles at the small of Lucifer’s back and digging in with his heels, forcing the fallen angel closer. Lucifer obeyed the silent command, planting one hand on the table next to Alastor’s hip and bringing the other up to cup the sinner’s cheek as he continued to plunder that delectable mouth.
The new height allowed Lucifer to finally drag his cock against Alastor’s, the demon and the angel moaning in tandem at the slow, sinuous friction. Lucifer was wearing nothing but silk pyjama bottoms, and the contrast between the smooth, cool silk and the abrasive seam of Alastor’s usual trousers was enough for him to huff out a groan. He gasped when the head of his cock caught against Alastor’s zipper, and pulled back to take in the image of the Radio Demon sprawled out before him.
“I want you,” Lucifer mumbled. “Right here, right now. Let me have you?”
“I’m all yours, mon cher,” the demon purred, his voice low and sultry, crackling with static. He leaned back, propping himself against the table on his elbows to allow Lucifer full access to him, which he happily accepted.
With one harsh yank, the demon’s jacket, waistcoat, and shirt were ripped down the middle, his scarred chest revealed to Lucifer’s appreciative gaze in less than a second of effort. It truly paid to have divine magic and strength on one’s side.
As expected, Alastor immediately kicked up a fuss, shouting out a surprised cry of protest as his precious wardrobe was shredded beneath Lucifer’s claws. The king shushed him absentmindedly as he pushed the two halves of Alastor’s ruined clothes away, reveling in the marred skin beneath.
“Lovely,” Lucifer whispered, pressing his hand flat to the skin just above Alastor’s navel and trailing it upwards, relishing in the too-hot feel of the flesh below him. He ran his fingers through the light smattering of crimson hair on Alastor’s chest, then brought his hand down to cup his right pec, tweaking the nipple with his thumb.
A small blat of static cracked through the air as Alastor sucked in a breath through his teeth. He nibbled on his bottom lip as he watched Lucifer tease and tweak his nipple, the bud tightening helplessly beneath his ministrations.
“Lucifer,” Alastor whispered, his voice cracking. “Please, don’t tease me. I want you. I’ve been aching for it for days, mon cher.”
Lucifer’s eyes snapped up from Alastor’s chest to meet his lover’s gaze, surprise filling him. It was so rare that Alastor asked for what he wanted: he preferred deviance and trickery as a means to get what he desired. Heat pooled low in Lucifer’s gut at the admission, his cock twitching hard in his pyjama pants.
Fuck.
“Holy shit, okay. Okay, sweet thing, I got you.”
He quickly worked to undo Alastor’s trousers, the demon hissing as his cock was pulled from within. He was leaking already, dripping a steady trail down Lucifer’s knuckles as he gave the thick shaft a few pumps. Alastor’s head lolled on his shoulders as he whined into the stillness of the kitchen, his hips hitching upwards to gain more friction in Lucifer’s fist.
“You’re a goddamn vision,” Lucifer said through gritted teeth, watching with avid attention as Alastor keened beneath his hands. “The prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. God, the things I could do to you, little deer…”
“S-so do them, sire,” Alastor panted. He kicked his foot into the small of Lucifer’s back, drawing the fallen angel in closer. “I’m all yours.”
“You’re goddamn right,” Lucifer snarled. He allowed himself to pull away from the clutches of Alastor’s embrace long enough to yank the demon’s pants off and shove his own down to his ankles before he was stepping forward once more, dragging the sinner into another heated kiss. He lay his cock against Alastor’s, feeling how the demon’s breath hitched against his lips, before wrapping his hand around both of their lengths and beginning to jerk them off in tandem.
He kept the pace slow and teasing, drawing little moans and gasps from both of them as he flicked his thumb against the heads of their cocks. Alastor was longer, but Lucifer was slightly thicker, and the weight of both of their cocks in his palm sent a dirty thrill coursing up his spine.
“Fuck me,” Alastor broke away from the kiss to demand. “I need it. Give it to me.”
“So bossy,” Lucifer teased, but nonetheless he snapped his fingers, summoning a bottle of lube. He snicked it open and moved to pour some over his fingers, but Alastor caught his wrist, halting his movements.
“No prep. I want to feel your cock,” the demon whispered, hot in Lucifer’s ear.
A whole-body shiver wracked Lucifer’s frame, and it took him a moment to realize that the high, breathy whine ringing through the kitchen was actually coming from him.
“F-fuck, baby, are you sure? It’ll hurt.”
“I want it to. I want to feel you, Lucifer. I want you to break me.”
Lucifer choked on his saliva, his cock throbbing hard between his legs. “Okay, yeah, I can do that,” he nodded eagerly.
He wasted no time in slicking up his cock with lube and bending Alastor backward, the demon’s long, lean body spread over the table enticingly. With one hand on the sinner’s hip and one on his cock for guidance, Lucifer began to press inside, watching intently as Alastor’s hole was forced wide around the intrusion.
There was resistance - frankly, a lot of it - but after several seconds of prodding and insistent pushing, Alastor’s body began to yield to the pressure. The demon shouted and slapped a hand over his mouth as the head of Lucifer’s cock popped inside, his other hand shoving into his own hair, yanking harshly at the crimson strands.
Lucifer could feel sweat beading at his temples and trickling between his shoulder blades as he panted harshly and kept pushing, until finally, blessedly, he bottomed out.
They stayed that way for several moments, both of them gasping for air and trembling. They had never had sex without prep before and Alastor was tight, his ass clamping onto Lucifer’s cock like a vice. The demon’s face was as red as his hair, tears dripping steadily from his eyes as he worked to accommodate the intrusion.
“You- you okay?” Lucifer checked in, his voice coming out raspy and strangled.
After a moment’s deliberation Alastor nodded, the hand covering his mouth slipping downwards to tangle his fingers with Lucifer’s where they were gripping the sinner’s thigh. “Yes. Please, move.”
Lucifer didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled out, gentle and slow, before snapping his hips forward a bit more roughly than intended. Alastor cried out, the hand in his hair tightening as his back bowed from the table. His other hand scratched at the back of Lucifer’s, drawing blood.
Lucifer shifted his grip to the back of Alastor’s thighs and pushed, forcing those long legs from around his waist up and out, until his knees almost brushed his chest. Seeing the demon bent into a fairly accurate mimicry of a mating press drove Lucifer over the edge, and before he even had time to think about what he was doing, his hips began to piston forward and back, forcing Alastor to accept his cock where it stretched the sinner wide.
The king was quick to adopt a relentless pace, his hips colliding harshly with the backs of Alastor’s thighs. Alastor was panting and moaning like a whore, his mouth dropped open in pleasure, his eyes crossed and steadily rolling back in his head.
“ Fuck,” Lucifer snarled, his voice deep and demonic. He removed one hand from Alastor’s thigh and planted it next to the sinner’s head for leverage, his claws shredding through the stainless steel of the table with an unholy screech. “You’re mine, you understand me? Mine.”
“Yes, oh fuck, harder, fuck me harder,” Alastor begged, both hands now thrown over his head, stretching his torso out across the table. His antlers began to extend, the tines arching upwards and out, a glorious display of his loss of control.
Lucifer did as he was bid, his hips snapping against Alastor’s ass and thighs hard enough to bruise. The table began to shift with every thrust, squealing across the floor as Lucifer pounded into the tight, wet hole before him.
All too soon he began to feel the familiar tightening in his gut that heralded his impending release. “Alastor,” he groaned as he retracted his claws from the table and brought his hand to the sinner’s cock.
Surprisingly, Alastor batted his hand away, squirming in his grip. “I want to come on your cock, sire,” the demon explained, his red eyes glowing like two embers, his pupils dark, inky pools of arousal.
“Shit!” Lucifer cried out, his hips stuttering. “I- I won’t last long though, fuck, you’re so tight, baby boy, so fucking good for me.”
“Then let go, mon ange. Come for me. Fill me until I drip for you.”
“Holy Christ,” Lucifer wheezed, and he couldn’t stop himself from coming, his back arching forward harshly as he came in thick, hot spurts into his demon.
“I’m sorry,” he panted, trying to regain some semblance of control. “Sorry, you didn’t-”
His words were cut off by a yelp as Alastor suddenly shoved himself up and off the table, taking advantage of Lucifer’s lax, post-orgasmic state to tip them both backwards.
He let out a cry (and most definitely not a high, girlish squeal) as he tripped over the pyjama pants still wrapped around his ankles and landed hard on his ass on the kitchen floor, his cock still buried firmly in Alastor where the sinner landed sprawled in his lap.
“The fuck-”
Alastor’s hands were suddenly at his shoulders, forcing him down until he was pinned flat to the floor.
“I said,” the demon growled, his eyes flashing to black. “That I want to come on your cock. You will give me what I want.”
With that he began to move, bouncing on Lucifer’s still-hard prick buried within him. Lucifer choked, his hands flying to Alastor’s hips as the sinner rode him hard and fast, his oversensitized cock throbbing in painful pleasure.
“Fuck, oh fuck,” the Devil whined, his head tipping back against the floor as Alastor drove himself down hard, circling his hips to brush his own prostate before bringing himself back up and repeating the cycle. “Come for me, sweet thing. I want to feel you coming on my cock.”
Alastor keened, his voice barely audible over the squelching sounds emanating from between his thighs. Lucifer could feel his hips and the tops of his thighs becoming slick with his own cum as Alastor worked, sweat running down his chest from exertion as he drove himself towards his peak.
With one final thrust Alastor was crying out, his hand flying to his cock as he came in thick ropes all over Lucifer’s chest and belly. He worked himself weakly through the aftershocks, his thighs trembling over Lucifer’s until finally he came to rest, panting and grinning wildly down at the king.
Lucifer felt like he was in some sort of alternate dimension. He could feel his pulse pounding in his temples and the roof of his mouth, his chest heaving as he tried to pull in air that didn’t seem to quite reach his lungs. His entire groin throbbed, his overworked cock finally, finally softening inside the sinner.
“I think you broke me,” he managed to wheeze out after what felt like hours, but was likely only a few seconds.
Alastor giggled - fucking giggled, and reached out, trailing his fingers through his cum that was painted across Lucifer’s chest. He held his hand out, brushing Lucifer’s lips, and the fallen angel dropped his mouth open with a groan, accepting the heady, earthy taste of his lover’s cum.
He licked the cum from Alastor’s fingers slowly, savouring the taste as Alastor petted his fingers across the forks of Lucifer’s tongue. When his hand was clean he withdrew, lifting off of Lucifer’s cock with a wince.
“Perhaps forgoing prep was not an entirely wise decision,” he groaned as he tenderly laid himself down on the floor next to Lucifer.
“I tried to tell you,” the fallen angel hummed as he gathered his sinner in his arms and pressed a kiss to his fluffy ear. “But you never listen, stubborn little brat that you are.”
“Mm, how can I, when you are entirely too tempting?”
Lucifer buried his smile into Alastor’s hair, nuzzling gently against the base of one antler. “I missed you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
He expected Alastor to say something like: “well, it’s only been seventeen days,” or “you truly are pathetic,” or perhaps even just laugh. He was therefore entirely surprised when the demon simply sighed and threw his arm across Lucifer’s chest, giving him a light squeeze.
“I missed you too, mon ange.”