Archive of Our Own

“Has anyone ever worshiped you?”

Lucifer gasped, choked, wheezed. He stared at Alastor in stark disbelief. For his part, the demon looked downright serene. His eyes were half-lidded, smile small and peaceful. He leaned on the bar, face propped up in his hand, gently flushed from the alcohol. He looked so harmless like this. Lucifer sunk in his seat and wished there was anyone else still around as a buffer for this side of Alastor that he was completely unprepared to deal with. Even Husk had cleared away about an hour ago.

Husk, Lucifer thought, this was his fault really. Or maybe Charlie's? No, of course it wasn't her fault. She had only aggressively kindly told her father that he needed to find some way to get along with or at least tolerate Alastor. Why did it have to be his job to do all the work when it was Alastor who antagonized him? The first few failed attempts had only caused even more spectacular arguments, though, leading him to asking Husk for his advice.

‘Stop being fun to argue with’ was a total non-starter. Lucifer had always been a man to wear his heart on his sleeve, and he didn't think it was any kind of weakness to feel passionately and express his opinions openly. ‘Let Alastor monologue about his interests’ was also pretty useless since he was not about to listen to a ramble about psychopathic violence when it would only turn into more chances for Alastor to needle him. The third suggestion was ‘get him drunk’ and well, that was simple enough, wasn't it? 

Lucifer had been skeptical that he'd be able to convince Alastor to let his paranoid guard down enough to actually get drunk around him, but apparently procuring some quality rye whiskey from Earth had been all the invitation Alastor had needed to settle in at the bar and chat amiably about dance and music for hours. Turned out that the old-fashioned Radio Demon kept up with newer music trends, loving all kinds of genres, not just ragtime and jazz. Hearing Alastor give an opinion on EDM had been worth the effort alone.

Now there was this new question about worship, seemingly apropos of nothing. Lucifer gave his sternum a firm thump and cleared his throat. 

“Well there's, uh, those so-called Satanists, if that's what you mean? They tend to lose steam pretty quickly after arriving...” Lucifer considered, “Or there's always sycophants looking to get something from the king.”

“No, neither.” Alastor hummed, “Not the idea of you or your station.”

Lucifer squinted at Alastor who seemed content to wait for a response, “I'm not sure what else there is?”

Alastor laughed at that, a real laugh. It wasn't supposed to be funny, dammit. “Nothing else to Lucifer but his title and his ducks?”

Ah, yup, this had to be the argument starting. “For people to worship, asshole.”

Alastor scooted over into the empty seat that had been separating them. “Has no one here thanked you for your blessing of fire, O Prometheus, while expecting nothing in return?”

“Have the arsonists thanked Prometheus for fire?” Lucifer asked, unimpressed.

“Who loves fire more than an arsonist? Certainly you’ll hear no gratitude from the ones who were temperate and only loved the light and warmth. They never loved the fire for itself, only its utility. They are happy enough to leave Prometheus on the mountain, eternally tormented and far from consideration.” Alastor reached for Lucifer’s half-empty glass and drank from it. Lucifer couldn’t be certain if the demon did it on purpose or not. It was all Alastor's now, though. He didn’t want it back.

“Funny, I feel like you’d also be fine with Prometheus’ torment.” Lucifer accused. “Do you always get philosophical when drunk?”

“I’m more tipsy than zozzled. Even alive it would take more than this to put me under the table.” Alastor said, ignoring the question. He tested the edge of the glass with his teeth. “Mm… would you have me be your eagle? To personally tear your liver from your abdomen daily?”

Lucifer turned on the stool to fully face Alastor. His face pulled flat with distaste. He shouldn’t have expected better. “You’d like that, huh? I thought we were talking about worship, not punishment.”

“Commitment to performing unending torture on a single person sounds like an act of devotion to me.” Alastor tossed back the last of Lucifer’s drink. He chased a fallen drop with a sweep of his tongue.

“Yeah, pretty sure eating someone isn’t devotion. Try again.” Lucifer said.

“Have you not met a Christian?” Alastor asked.

Lucifer couldn't help but groan at the thought of them, “We have plenty of those down here. Do NOT get me started on them.”

“Oh? Now I’m curious. Please, do let's get started.” Alastor said. He turned in his seat as well and adjusted so his knees were interlaced with Lucifer’s. Curse his stupid long legs, but at least they weren’t bumping into each other. That would be awkward.

“This is just you fishing for new ways to annoy me.” Lucifer accused, and Alastor didn’t deny it. “But whatever I guess I can indulge a pet hate. For starters? The bitching and moaning about being in the wrong place? The worst! Like I’m the one who decides that?”

“You do seem to spend so much of your busy days listening to the woes of the common sinners, yes.” Alastor teased.

“Not for a while? Shut up. Fuck you. Why should I?” Lucifer grumbled. He couldn't say something like that around Charlie, but at least Alastor seemed to think it was funny. Small mercies. Lucifer drummed his fingers on the bar. “The real pisser of it is that they have just enough of the truth to go all conspiracy theorist about the rest of the shit they made up. Oh, and then you get more than one of them in a room? Awful. One's insisting that drawing faces is evil, one’s talking about something called Yaldabaoth, and another is just shouting in gibberish. They still agree to hate me though. Wait. How did we get from Prometheus to here?”

Alastor leaned in. His arm slid on the bar parallel to Lucifer’s. “Cannibalistic worship rituals in comparison to Prometheus’ eternal devotee, the eagle.”

“Haaa, right,” Lucifer refused to be cowed by the almost-contact of their legs and now arms. Their fights turned physical often enough that this was surely just a poor excuse for an intimidation tactic, “think I might need a bit of elaboration on that?”

Alastor looked oh so pleased to explain which had to be a bad sign, “There is a very common practice called ‘taking communion’ based on the last supper the messiah figure had with his disciples before he became a gruesome human blood sacrifice, in which he instructed them to eat bread and wine, telling them that it was his flesh and blood. Some Christians believe that a priest's blessing will fully, spiritually turn the bit of grapes and wheat into god's literal body which they then eat.”

“That's surprisingly morbid for such a popular religion. They tend to get more tame and palatable as they grow with only pockets of crazy scattered around,” Lucifer had been vaguely aware of communion, of course. He hadn’t realized people took it literally, though. He wondered if it was perhaps less common than Alastor believed, or even just the demon’s own perspective twisting things.

“Other congregants were so accustomed that they had been desensitized, I suppose. I, myself, gave it little thought during mass as a child, being more focused on performing the steps correctly. I stopped attending when there was no longer anyone to go for.” Alastor looked away, almost seeming maudlin for a moment, but his grin was at full brightness when he returned his attention to Lucifer, “I think the eagle must have hated Herakles when he took Prometheus away. Do you think Prometheus ever missed the eagle in turn? It was his only companion for eons in isolation.”

Unholy Hell, what even was this? Some insinuation that Lucifer was lonely enough to accept pain and punishment just for company? Because that was completely not what his arguments with Alastor were about. He moved to the far edge of his stool to get a little distance, legs briefly brushing Alastor’s as he shifted.

“Eeyeah, well, honestly I don't think I'm much of a Prometheus anyway. Maybe more like an Epimetheus.” Lucifer tried steering the conversation away from flesh-eating. The night had been going so well until Alastor had made it weird.

“Your Majesty, how unexpectedly misogynistic of you.” Alastor mocked.

“Sorry!?” Lucifer hissed, not sorry at all. What part of foresight versus hindsight was that?

Alastor clutched onto Lucifer’s arm just under the elbow. “Would you cast off all responsibility onto Eve as your Pandora? You, the hapless and absent fool while the innocent and curious woman unleashed woe on her descendants? Are you barely a footnote in your own story?”

“That's not-”

“Or are you suggesting we should venerate the first mother and not you for the gift of free will?” Alastor pressed, regaining the distance Lucifer had put between them. 

“No, uh, she…” Lucifer swallowed, trying to order his thoughts. The fewer people thinking about Eve the better, considering her fate, especially not someone like Alastor. 

He scooted away again, overbalancing on the stool. He clutched Alastor’s arm tightly on instinct to keep himself from an embarrassing fall. Rather than letting him topple or pushing him off, Alastor actually tightened his own grip and placed a stabilizing hand on Lucifer's waist. He pulled the devil back into his seat. They were even closer than before now. One of Lucifer’s thighs was half-resting on Alastor’s knee, and Alastor was allowing it to happen.

“Eager for a second fall?” Alastor asked. His words were hooking Lucifer with all the expected barbs tonight and none of the accompanying venom, and he still wasn't letting go.

“Not particularly?” Lucifer managed while he tried to figure out exactly what Alastor was up to.

This much extended contact between them only happened in the handful of fights that had escalated to the point of collateral damage, and that only happened when one of them, usually Alastor, prodded into a tender emotional wound. To the demon's credit he either had enough self-restraint or self-preservation to not taunt Lucifer about his estranged wife often. And while Lucifer might not have really understood what landmine he'd stepped on at the time he'd said Alastor must have been an unloved child, the genuine outrage and possibly pain he'd seen right before getting tackled through the wall had made him feel just a little bit guilty.

There were so many unspoken rules for their fights and this evening didn't seem to be following their established rhythm. It almost was like this wasn’t a fight at all. With the placement of Alastor's surprisingly gentle hands on his body, Lucifer couldn't help but feel that he was being led through the steps of an unfamiliar dance. Alastor was staring down at him with so much intensity, and he didn’t know what it meant in this new context. He always had so much of Alastor’s attention, didn’t he? He hadn’t realized when it had been all aggression and spite.

“The once was enough, was it, Icarus?” Alastor asked. He rose from his seat and slid his grip down Lucifer’s arm until their only point of connection was clasped hands. Has he ever seen Alastor let someone hold his hand?

“Icarus is a bit of a step down from Prometheus.” Lucifer begrudgingly accepted Alastor’s help to hop from the stool.

“We contain multitudes, not all parts of ourselves can be so grand as a literal Titan.” Alastor teased.

He pulled Lucifer across the room to one of the many conversation nooks that Charlie had insisted on scattering throughout the hotel. Lucifer tossed himself on the couch to lay on his back, leaving Alastor looking down at him. Not a big difference in vantage point from usual anyway. 

“You're hardly the first to notice a parallel between myself and that particular prideful rebel who ignored warnings and scorched himself with his own dreams.” Lucifer said.

“I should think not.” Alastor's smile was full of mischief.

Lucifer sighed and rubbed his face, “I don't understand you tonight. At all. What do you even want?”

Alastor bent at the waist to hover directly over Lucifer. “I want to be the sun.”

“Is that all then? Just the fucking sun .” Lucifer couldn't help but laugh in breathless confusion. Not exactly clear. He tried to follow the metaphor logic, “So… what? You want me to adore you so much that I forget what you are and then you ruin me? Good fucking job so far, since you’ve been a total asshole and we hate each other.”

“Do we? Mm. Sometimes,” Alastor said thoughtfully.

Lucifer thought about it as well. He didn't hate Alastor when he cooked dinner for everyone. He was surprisingly good at it for someone who ate half their meals raw. Seeing Charlie smile for the Radio Demon made him hate himself more than Alastor. He didn't hate Alastor during most of their fights either, if he was being honest. They could even be fun when they weren't too personal. He didn't hate Alastor right now. He didn't know how he felt.

This version of Alastor was, well, he was still an overconfident provocateur who liked the sound of his own voice too much. Admittedly, it was a good voice. Talking to him was easier when he was treating it like a game rather than a competition. Lucifer could almost see why some people liked him. Didn't hurt that he wasn't ugly, or maybe he was a little attractive. Maybe. The ears were cute.

“That wasn’t quite what I meant, either, though.” Alastor added. His playful smile was wilting into something more uncertain.

“What?” Lucifer tried to focus again. Anything other than navel-gazing any deeper about his feelings.

“About the sun.” Alastor said, “It isn’t the sun’s fault for being what it is. I just want to burn so brightly that you cannot dismiss me. I want…”

Lucifer watched Alastor’s eyes dart back and forth as he searched for his words. That was new. 

“You don't know what you want,” he realized. Perhaps, he should have kept that to himself.

“Excuse you?!” Alastor's lip curled. He reached across to the back of the couch, digging his claws in. “I always-”

“Right, right, right, right.” Lucifer waved a dismissive hand. He didn't bother to get less comfortable in the face of Alastor's anger, “I'm sure you know what you want in general: power, influence, attention. I meant like specifically. Right now. What do you want? For me to do something? To do something to me? What?”

“Maybe I just like to see you squirm,” Alastor's eye twitched. Oh-ho, right on the money then. 

“You know what I think?” Lucifer challenged, “I think you don't really want to be the sun. You asked me about being worshiped? I think you want to be Icarus basking in my warmth.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Alastor was doing his best at playing Mr. Scary Radio Demon with his silly dials for eyes and branching antlers. Lucifer ignored the shredding of upholstery and the glare of seething rage. What a treat it was to see Alastor flustered and fumbling.

Lucifer reached up and grabbed the Alastor by the lapel. “Maybe you're already spiraling towards the sea. Have you fallen for me, my Icarus?”

Then there was stillness and quiet. He hadn’t even realized how much the background static had risen in volume until it suddenly dimmed. Above him Alastor looked, well, not furious like a moment ago. He looked maybe bewildered or stunned. What did Lucifer say again? He played back his words and, oh. No, he had just meant like in the story not… 

But what if that was right? 

He'd figured that Alastor’s rotten attitude was half bruised ego, half violent psychopath. Had it shifted to some kind of unhinged pigtail-pulling from a manchild of a demon at some point? Bizarre to think about, but it would only marginally be the weirdest part of the evening if true. 

“How should I know?” Alastor hissed softly, and it sounded like the most honest thing he'd ever said to Lucifer.

Alastor looked so human and lost in this moment. Lucifer couldn't deny it was appealing, especially considering who he was dealing with. The idea of taming Alastor gave him a clenching thrill that he would be very happy to leave unanalyzed. His grip on Alastor’s coat tightened. The through-line of Lucifer’s life was to make impulsive, emotional decisions and to stew in the agony of the aftermath for the rest of his existence. Why stop now?

“Let me try something,” Lucifer said softly.

He pulled Alastor down to press mouth to mouth. It seemed the demon got enough of the memo on the way down to close his lips over his teeth. Lucifer’s lips were a question against Alastor’s tense and unresponsive ones. It was possibly the worst kiss Lucifer had ever had. Slowly, though, Alastor relaxed, not into an answer but a question of his own. That was a little better. It had been many thousands of years since Lucifer had such an inexperienced kissing partner. It was clumsy and chaste, and yet also compelling. He set a hand on Alastor’s jaw, trying to encourage his head to tilt. 

Alastor leaned away but not entirely out of reach. He stared out at the far wall and touched clawed fingertips to his lips. “And you said you don't understand me …”

Lucifer didn't fully understand what he was doing either, so they were on the same page. “How was it?”

“Like a firebrand,” Alastor flicked his tongue over his lips.

Okay? Lucifer squinted at him, “which is… good?”

“It wasn't boring, nor was it as disgusting as I remember.” Alastor damned him with the faintest praise.

“Wow. Thanks,” Lucifer deadpanned. 

Seriously, this guy. That's fine, he'd mostly satisfied his curiosity. No need to keep pushing. In fact, it was probably best for his sanity if this was where it ended. Then the couch cushion buckled under the weight of Alastor's knee, and the demon braced his free hand next to Lucifer’s head. Huh, so he wasn't leaving?

“This does seem like a more humane way to taste the divine, if you're still agreeable to experimenting.” Alastor pulled his claws out of the couch and took a gentle hold of Lucifer’s chin. He sure recovered quickly from his loss of composure. His expression was reading closer to hunger than lust, but being the center of someone's desire again was nice. Lucifer felt heat rise to his face. 

“Figure out what you want, then?” Lucifer hoped and dreaded in equal measure.

“To devour you,” Alastor said, “but I'll work with what I can get. Now I know there’s a way I can put my mouth on you that you’ll permit.”

“Uh,” good job, Lucifer, very smooth.

Alastor let go of the devil’s chin and dragged his claws down his chest, stopping just under the ribcage. “Unless you would let me have your liver after all. I could content myself with being your eagle.”

“Nope! No. That’s… no.” Lucifer wiggled a little. As tempting as that dark tone and the touching was, hard pass. He wasn’t even completely certain that he had a liver. Besides, he hadn’t had a real kiss since Lilith left him, and that short lip smoosh just now didn’t count. If Alastor was offering… Fuck. He really must be lonely.

“No biting.” Lucifer said firmly.

Alastor tutted, “No fun.”

As Alastor lowered himself back down, Lucifer curled a hand around the nape of his neck. Frustratingly, Alastor paused.

“Must you touch me?” he sighed.

“Actually, yes.” If Lucifer was going to get kissed, he was going to be part of it, dammit. Alastor made a funny garble of static and snippets of songs. He had to fucking think about it? Did he know who was under him? How privileged he was? He didn't seem to have any problems pawing all over Lucifer.

“Very well,” Alastor said.

Finally Lucifer had a warm and eager mouth on his. The technique was poor, but it was hard for him to remember a time when he'd been licked into with such urgency, if ever. It’s because you're being tasted, his mind supplied. But there was no need to dwell on that since he wasn't actually getting eaten. Thankfully all Lucifer could taste from Alastor was the whiskey. 

Hm.

He did drink quite a lot.

Lucifer pushed Alastor back, and he was met with a surprising amount of resistance. Alastor fought to keep their connection as long as he could, but the devil was much stronger than any sinner. Alastor's tongue left a wet trail over his lips and cheek. Alastor wore a dreamy expression with the pink tip of his tongue hanging between his teeth. It was a good look on him.

“You are… sober enough, right?” Lucifer asked. “Like you're not going to get pissed at me tomorrow?”

“I'm sure you'll manage to do something insufferable tomorrow to irritate me,” Alastor said. “But I won't be upset about this.”

Alastor dipped his head. He ran his nose up the side of Lucifer’s throat, inhaling deeply. “Mm, you smell as good as you taste. Absolutely delectable, like mulled cider. And did you know how hot it is inside of you? Is it because of the hellfire or something still holy?”

“Fuck, Alastor! You can’t just say shit like that.” Lucifer shivered with the feeling of breath on his neck.

“No? You don’t seem to mind.” Alasor grazed his teeth over Lucifer’s throat. “Shall I praise you more? Do you truthfully desire worship?”

Lucifer gripped Alastor’s hair tightly in warning about his teeth. “I don't see what you'd get out of that.”

“If you find this gratifying, you'll let me do it again in the future,” Alastor said.

He licked from Lucifer’s throat to just under his ear. Lucifer couldn’t help but moan softly. He didn't want to think about the future right now. He didn't want to think about how much he could ask Alastor for either. He really didn’t want to think about how much he might be willing to give in return. Alastor brushed his smile against the shell of Lucifer’s ear. 

When Alastor spoke, his voice had little of his signature lo-fi distortion. “You freed humanity from a base, animal existence. You gave so selflessly, uplifting us all while condemning yourself. The most beautiful parts of life–music, art, invention–the parts that make life worth living, they all came from your gift. You are radiant, Lucifer.”

Oh. That wasn’t fair at all. 

Lucifer sucked in a quivering breath and held it. He squeezed his eyes shut. His claws scratched softly on Alastor’s scalp. He knew that Alastor was cruel and a manipulative liar, and yet... And yet he could almost believe that Alastor meant what he was saying because he was a heartless demon. Whenever Lilith had tried to comfort him when he was being morose over the state of humanity in the back of his mind he would wonder if her affection for him was coloring her words. Alastor didn’t love him, though.

Alastor could have just spun another metaphor. He could have continued on about the fragrance or flavor of Lucifer’s skin. He could have professed a desire for the beauty of the devil’s body. Instead it was this. Those words shook Lucifer through millennia of memory, an echo of the defense he gave for his actions in his tribunal against heaven. The most beautiful things, the stunning art, the infinity of music, the scraps of Earth that he was able to reach out and touch from his prison of a kingdom, and now this aching moment. He allowed himself to believe that it had all been worth it.

Alastor didn’t love him, but for right now he loved Alastor.

Lucifer turned his face and pulled Alastor in again. He slotted their mouths together into another kiss, deep and needful. He guided the demon to the best angle, coaxing his tongue into a pleasing twist instead of the single-minded licking from before. He even dared to slip his own forked tongue past Alastor’s teeth. He groaned freely into the kiss.

Alastor proved to be a quick study, and Lucifer forgot himself enough in the pleasure of it that he poked his lip on a sharp tooth. Alastor instantly abandoned all other efforts, focusing only on sucking the small drops of blood from the pin-prick wound. He broke away when there was nothing left, breathing hard. Lucifer ran his own tongue over the healed cut.

“It burns.” Alastor whispered reverently.

“Does it?” Lucifer wondered. His own blood was just boring blood to him. “Maybe it's not safe for a demon to, uh, ingest?”

Alastor scoffed, “One doesn't get raised on creole cooking without acquiring a taste for spice.”

He gave the lip another soft lick, before he lathed wet, open kisses down Lucifer’s chin to the underside of his jaw. His fingers deftly opened Lucifer’s bowtie and the top few buttons of his shirt so Alastor could press his mouth closer to the junction of neck and shoulder. Lucifer was excited for a moment before it caught up to him that he should probably be wary of a bloodthirsty cannibal exposing more flesh right after getting a sample.

“Alastor, I swear if you bite me, I will bite you back twice as hard.” Lucifer threatened.

Alastor hummed, “deal.”

That was all the warning Lucifer had before teeth dug deep into his trapezius. He cried out in shock. Fuck, it stung. When was the last time he'd let his guard down enough for someone to hurt him like this? He was certain his promise of retribution was the only thing saving him from having a chunk chewed off. Despite the pain, Lucifer gave himself a moment to enjoy the undulous roll of Alastor’s tongue and the obscene slurping sounds. Wouldn't it be nice to have that on another part of his body?

Minus the biting, of course.

Mundane wounds never lasted long on a seraphim, even a fallen one. When all the tooth marks had closed over, Lucifer pried Alastor away from his neck. He appreciated the dazed look on Alastor’s face and the oddly lovely luminous smear of his own golden blood around the demon's mouth. Then, giving Alastor no time to recover his senses, he scrambled for leverage and reversed their positions. 

Alastor's head slammed into the armrest with a hopefully painful thud. Clarity returned to the demon’s eyes along with indignation as Lucifer straddled him. Be mad, Lucifer thought, this is your own damn fault. His hands and a little magic made quick work of Alastor’s bowtie and collar.

“What do you think you're doing?” Alastor grabbed Lucifer’s wrists uselessly.

“Returning the favor, rude bitch” Lucifer said, opening Alastor’s shirt front to expose bony shoulders. He seized Alastor’s hands and held them down to the couch and out of the way. 

Alastor squirmed under him with discomfort. “And you have to undress me for that?”

“You’d rather I fucked up your clothes by biting through them?” Lucifer asked. 

Alastor went still and growled, “Fine. I suppose I did agree to this.”

Of all the things to actually bother Alastor, a little exposed skin wasn't on the list of Lucifer’s first guesses. He'd keep it in mind for the next time the demon struck a low blow during an argument. Twice as hard, he'd said. He didn’t want a mouthful of muscle, so two equal bites. Lucifer lined up his teeth and bared down with carefully measured force. He jerked back in surprise soon after. It wasn't from the metallic flavor of former-mortal blood which he'd expected, but because Alastor had made a sound that was distinctly different from one of pain.

A glance showed him that Alastor was just as surprised as Lucifer was that he'd let out a whining little mewl. He nearly looked like he were still alive with the heavy blush spreading over his cheeks.

“That’s what does it for you?” Lucifer asked incredulously.

“Nothing ‘does it’ for me,” Alastor insisted, “Now let me go.”

“You’re never too old to learn something new about yourself.” Lucifer would know. He was learning a lot about himself lately, especially tonight, “Besides, I think I promised you twice what you gave me?”

“You said that you would bite me twice as hard.” Alastor argued. He was only hurting himself by struggling against Lucifer’s grasp.

“Right,” Lucifer agreed. “I’m going to bite you. Twice. Just as hard as you bit me.”

Alastor laughed with false humor, “So the Devil actually can play conniving dealmaker when it suits him. Here I thought it was beneath your stature. Figuratively speaking.”

Lucifer refused to take the bait about his height. The only thing beneath him right now was Alastor’s tense body between his thighs. He wondered if it was the pain that Alastor had liked? No, he certainly would have already known about that considering their tousles. Was it specifically biting? Or maybe… Lucifer brought his mouth down to the other side of Alastor’s neck. Maybe it was the fact that it was Lucifer, King of Hell, Radiant Star of Morning marking him that Alastor was into. Who could blame him for that? Lucifer ran his tongue over skin, enjoying Alastor’s breath hitching and his heavy swallow.

“Will you stop molesting me and just get on-nmmgh!” Alastor had no hope of smothering his reaction when Lucifer still had him pinned.

The sounds were sweeter this second bite, despite Alastor trying to choke them down. Lucifer held his teeth in the demon’s shoulder, drawing it out. It’s not that he liked causing Alastor pain. Well, okay, he did, but only vindictively. This had become about giving Alastor something he clearly wanted, regardless of what he'd said. He wasn’t even fighting the grip on his wrists anymore. Lucifer leaned back and admired the twin circles of perforations on either side of Alastor’s throat. The blood pooled into a macabre necklace across his collarbones .

“You look like a sacrifice on my altar.” Lucifer said. Then he really looked at the rest of Alastor.

Alastor was taking controlled but shivering breaths. He was staring straight ahead, smile small and tight. His flushed face was more unreadable than usual. Those ears were tucked back, and he was so very still. He looked like a feral animal. Shit. Had Lucifer misread the signals? There hadn't been any horrible radio sound effects, or weird green magic, or attempts to vanish into shadows. That all had seemed like tacit permission. He let go of Alastor's hands and sat back.

“I was just… I thought you liked it.” Lucifer tried. He wasn't being attacked so that was a good sign?

Alastor rubbed his wrists which, damn, there had to be bruising hiding under that black skin. Lucifer had been holding him so tightly. Then Alastor slowly touched his fingertips into the bleeding bite marks. Lucifer really wished he would say something. He wanted Alastor to absolve him of this guilt or lash out in retribution. Anything really.

“I could heal those?” Lucifer offered.

Alastor focused on Lucifer properly, glaring at him. He flattened a protective palm over one of the bites. “Don't.”

What the hell. “So you did like it?” Lucifer asked.

“Undecided,” Alastor’s gaze flicked to Lucifer's mouth, “but apparently my king has given me a gift intending to please me. How many others can claim that honor?”

Not many. Much fewer, if you considered the way that Lucifer had been trying to please Alastor. Lucifer imagined the demon secretly wearing his marks hidden under his clothes, and he blurted without thinking, “I can make them last longer too.”

Alastor's ears fully perked, and his smile curled in cruel amusement. “Now that sounds like it would be for your pleasure and not mine, but if you're interested in something more long term between us, I'm certain we could find a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Alastor shifted, seating himself more upright which slid Lucifer into his lap. Under him, Lucifer could feel that not all of Alastor was as uninterested as he seemed. That had some intriguing potential considering how well kissing had gone up until the biting. He'd also like to hear Alastor lose himself some more.

“I can think of something mutually beneficial we could do right now,” Lucifer purred, rocking himself against Alastor. He'd never been dumped on the ground faster in his life.

“The fuck?!” he complained.

Alastor was entirely unapologetic. He sneered down at Lucifer while buttoning up again. “I’m afraid you'll need to put in a lot more work or offer something much more compelling if that's what you're after.”

Lucifer rose to his feet, getting eye level with Alastor. “More compelling than the best fuck of your afterlife?”

“That's not really a factor in the decision making process.” Alastor manually tied his bowtie with practiced ease. “I think you've spoiled my tolerance for being touched tonight. Unless you have something spectacular you wish to bargain with, you'll have to wait a while before I'll be willing to let you kiss me again.”

Lucifer chewed on that information. It did line up with what he knew of Alastor. He hadn’t said an outright no, though.

“But you do want to sometime later.” Lucifer clarified. Despite how rotten of an idea it was, he'd really like to kiss Alastor some more. Knowing he couldn't rely on tempting the demon with lust would make his eventual consent more of a prize, and Lucifer was certain he could win.

“It seems that way, yes.” Alastor said, “We could even trade bites again if you enjoyed your blood sacrifice.”

That gave Lucifer a grin of his own. Bastard had liked being bitten. He couldn’t help but tilt closer to Alastor. “A goat or lamb is more traditional, but I’ll accept an offering of a deer.”

Alastor flattened himself into shadows and slipped behind the couch, putting distance and furniture between them. “You’re still far too worked up for a proper discussion, darling.”

“You only have yourself to blame for that, deer-est.” Lucifer returned.

Alastor bristled and slipped away as a shadow but this time out of the room, practically admitting defeat. Lucifer was really looking forward to their next argument for all the wrong reasons, or all the best reasons.