Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This wasn’t how Lucifer planned for his day to go. He woke up early in the morning, and the first thing he noticed was his lack of clothing. The second was the furry brown deer laying next to him, in his bed, in a similar predicament of not having clothes. Looking down at Lucifer’s body revealed multiple golden hickeys and bite marks. All below his shoulders, like whoever gave them was respectful about it. Which led him to the question. Why the FUCK was he naked in bed with Alastor asleep next to him? The simple answer was obvious. He remembered they were drinking together, and had maybe a few too many shots to see who could last longer. One thing led to another, and they must have fucked. That was the only logical explanation. But there were two glaring issues with that.

One, they hated each other. Strongly. Their rivalry was inexplicable, but fueled with matching disdain for the other. Two, Alastor had never expressed interest in sex, in fact, he seemed disgusted by the mere thought of it. Seemed to actively avoid Angel Dust as much as he could. So, to find him naked in Lucifer’s bed was one of the most improbable things to have happened. Lucifer vaguely wondered if he had forced him into it, too drunk to think clearly, especially about consent. But Alastor was sleeping peacefully, a small smile, more genuine than his regular one, on his face. It seemed unlikely that he had been uncomfortable, seeing that there were no scratches or pain in Lucifer’s body, and that Alastor had slept so soundly, and wasn’t disturbed by Lucifer standing up. He found his boxers from the floor and pulled them on, and then wrapped his comfy pink robe around himself. He didn’t really want to wake Alastor, since then he would be faced with the consequences of drunk Lucifer’s actions, and he didn’t want to deal with that at the moment.

A stabbing pain shot through his skull reminded him of just how hungover he was. He needed coffee and painkillers before he could face Alastor’s wrath. He messily put in his curlers and pushed his hair back with his duck headband, not caring much about his sloppy appearance. He made his way downstairs after grabbing his toothbrush, since his mouth tasted faintly of something better left unsaid. He sat down at the bar, disregarding all the sinners and reporters flooding the hotel. He asked Husk for a cup of coffee, with two espresso shots. He delivered it quickly, and he sat off to the side as he watched Angel and Husk flirt. Something about harder daddy?

Lucifer stared off into the distance, his thoughts landing on Alastor. Why couldn’t he remember even one detail from last night? And, more concerningly, why was he so upset about it? He managed to fuck the radio demon, probably, and he couldn’t even remember it? What kind of sick joke was that? Well, that’s besides the point. The point being that he had fucked Alastor. Or, maybe, Alastor fucked him. An unwanted shiver ran down his back, and he was instantly disgusted with the graphic scene his mind provided. Though, maybe he wouldn’t mind… Why the FUCK was he thinking like that? Maybe he was hanging around Angel and Cherri too much. When had he started seeing Alastor as hot??

Apparently since last night, since his drunken self had ended up leading him to his bed. Maybe he was ovulating. He did that sometimes, a side effect of having interchangeable reproductive organs. Maybe it wasn’t Alastor himself, but Lucifer was just horny. That seemed like a wonderful excuse. He had settled himself with that explanation, however correct it may be, and sank down in his chair and sipped his coffee. That was when Alastor formed from the shadows across the room. Lucifer almost choked, spitting out his mouthful of coffee back into the mug. He was completely dressed, composed, and seemed completely normal, as if he hadn’t woken naked in Lucifer’s duck bed. He said something to Vaggie, then he scanned the room, his smile tightening as his eyes laid on Lucifer. A chill ran through his spine. He was royally fucked, as one might say.

If Alastor dreaded one thing the most, it was intimacy. The vulnerability was unfavorable, along with the trust you had to have in the other, and not to mention the disgusting, obscene mess it made. Now, he wasn’t completely adverse to it. He’d had sex with two people before. Some random woman, back in his living days (which had produced one of his favorite things in the world, his son), and Vox. He’d rather not think about his time with Vox. But, the situation was, he had awoken, completely bare, with an ache in his ass and head. A quick glance around the room left him horrified.
Everywhere he looked, there were ducks. Ducks on the wall, on the floor, hell, the bed he laid upon’s headboard was, you guessed it, a duck. This confirmed the worst suspicion he had. He was in Lucifer’s room, with an awful hangover and an even worse sense of dread. He’d had drunken sex with Lucifer himself, the king of hell, the man he claimed to loathe. The aforementioned angel was nowhere to be found, which implied he had already left, and was aware of this situation.

He suddenly felt very indecent, though no one was there to see him. His fur was sticking out every which way, and without the bonnet he usually slept with, his curly hair was a tangled, frizzy mess. His deep wound on his chest and fur were on display for anyone who walked in to see, two things he kept hidden so as to not display vulnerability of any sort. His lower half was covered by the blanket, but that was useless the second he stood.

Discarding the blanket, he stood and then sank into the shadows, reappearing in the privacy of his own room. He pulled on some boxers, then sat down in his chair to actually think about what had happened. He absently wrapped fresh bandages around his chest, staring into the swamp as he thought. He had had sex with the king of Hell himself. The man he swore to hate, just because it was fun to poke at the flames. Apparently, it had gotten out of hand. The thrill of riling up the volatile man seemed to finally piss Lucifer off, and he snapped. It wasn’t all his fault, though. Recently, he realized, Alastor’s teasing could be considered sexual, at least in an average person’s point of view. A lick of his fingers while cooking, a sway of his hips. Though that wasn’t his intention. His ultimate goal was to make him frustrated, and then when he was pissed off, he wanted to shove him to the ground and consume that golden flesh. No one ever looked as delectable as the fallen angel. Though that wasn’t in a sexual way. Or so he believed. The problem was, he wasn’t very good at distinguishing between different levels of attraction. He had never felt anything romantic or sexual for Mimzy or Rosie, though it got complicated when he thought about Vox. He didn’t feel like diving into that mess at the moment, though. But with Lucifer, he realized he wasn’t mad because they had sex. He was mad because he couldn’t remember what he felt during it. That would help him determine what level of attraction the angel was on.

Now completely dressed in his regular suit, with his hair perfectly styled again, he made his way out of his room with uncharacteristic nervousness. Though he wouldn’t call it that, maybe more like anticipation. He spotted Lucifer going down the stairs with a toothbrush in his mouth and dressed in nothing but a pink robe and slippers. Static flared around Alastor, and he growled to himself. He appeared near Vaggie, avoiding Lucifer’s gaze for the time being. He helped out his usual amount, none at all. He grinned sharply at the woman before he gave in and allowed his eyes to find Lucifer. His gaze quickly landed on him, and he gave a tight smile before turning away.

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It was hatred. Pure, unadulterated hatred. Hatred in its rawest form, hatred so intense it corrupted his mind. That's what Alastor felt for the king of Hell. It wasn't rational, nor was it justifiable. But it was real. And it was obsession. Obsession in the way that Alastor couldn't keep his eyes off the disgusting wretch of a king, obsession in the way that the man plagued him even in sleep. Obsession in the way it drove him to harass the man, tease him, rile him up, just to see his pissed off expression. It occurred to Alastor on occasion he had never had an obsession so strong, for such a long time. But he reasoned with himself that he had never met such an annoyance of a man, as well.

This hatred for Lucifer was also what led Alastor to be sexually frustrated for the first time in decades. It wasn't like Alastor wanted to fuck the man. Far from it, actually. He wanted to rip up his flesh, consume him whole, and see the pitiful expression on Lucifer’s stupid face. He wanted to know how he would taste, how he would react to becoming the sinner’s next meal. But what made him frustrated was the fact that every time he imagined it, he got hard. He didn't even like sex, didn't crave it like the average sinner. Yet to picture the king of hell, bleeding golden underneath him, seemed to arouse him. And he hated it. He had never needed intercourse to feel content. Hell, he'd only ever fucked one person, way back when he was human. And, well… Vox didn't count. The point being, he didn't know what was going on with him.

A select few words kept drifting around Alastor’s mind as he cooked. The words Lucifer had said to him while trapped by Vox, pinned up and helpless. He had leaned towards him as a response to Alastor's mindless teasing, and had growled ‘I’ll show you sloppy.’ The words had gone right over Alastor's head at the time, too busy being captured by Vox and not yet realizing his thoughts for Lucifer were sexual. But now, after he had seen the man bleeding, messy, exhausted, and ruined by Vox’s machine, he realized how much the words made him think. Did Lucifer understand the implications? Alastor barely did, though he had spent way more time with Angel Dust than he ever needed. Lucifer had mentioned only moments before that he was still married. Was he not over Lilith yet? Alastor knew she was never coming back for him. He had learned that up from sneaking around and eavesdropping on Charlie's calls to her, and Lucifer’s late night vents to his ducks. Call him obsessive, he just wanted to know what was really going on with the woman. And if Lucifer really did have another chance with her. It seemed unlikely. From what he gathered, she had left him around the same time that Alastor had disappeared, and had been completely radio silent since then. Alastor hummed in amusement at his own analogy. He went back to cooking, turning the volume up on his radio to drown out his thoughts.

Now, everyone in hell knew Lucifer was a powerful man. He was the king of hell, for Father's sake. But he didn't feel powerful at the moment. He was sitting in his bathtub, surrounded by ducks, trying to magic away the wounds he got from Vox’s stupid machine. He was so ashamed he was the reason everything happened, and hadn't shown his face downstairs in a day or two. The angelic metal had really done a number on his body, multiple puncture wounds all over his chest and hips. His magic was too weak at the moment to heal himself, so he was stuck with the injuries until he regained some strength. While pouting in the bath, his mind kept drifting towards a certain deer. He hated the man, hated the way he always found a way to bother him, to toy with his already bruised pride. He was the king of hell! He shouldn't be bothered by such trivial things.

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“You need to be more responsible, Bambi. You can’t expect me to always fix you.” The king of hell sat on the bathroom floor in nothing but boxers, healing Alastor’s angelic wound for the third time. He had been sleeping, but Alastor’s shadow had peeked his head into his room and woken him.

Alastor was in the bathtub, filling it with water. “I’m aware, your majesty.” Alastor said, his ears flicking back. He sat back with a sigh, clawing at the porcelain tub.

Lucifer pressed his hands to his fluffy chest, his hands glowing as he healed the reopened wound. Golden stitches carefully closed the wound, stopping the bleeding and leaving it looking much better. “Good, you better be.” Lucifer said, flicking Alastor’s forehead gently as he finished tending to his injury.

He then stood up and looked at Alastor in the bathtub, seemingly thinking about something, before he pulled off his boxers and stepped in the water with him. Alastor sighed in mild annoyance, but didn’t argue. That is, until Lucifer poured way too much bubble solution into the bath, and the water started foaming up. “Really Lu, bubbles?”

“What!? They’re fun!” Lucifer grinned, sitting down and splashing in the water. “You and I have different ideas of ‘fun’” Alastor remarked.

“Well, I don’t like killing people for fun!” Lucifer shot back, glaring at Alastor playfully. “And I don’t find entertainment in childish things like bubbles and… ducks.” Alastor replied, drifting off as Lucifer summoned an ungodly amount of rubber ducks to sit in the already cramped bath. “Is this necessary, your majesty?”

“Hell yeah.” Lucifer smiled in pure happiness, turning off the tap once the water was almost overflowing from the tub. Alastor simply leaned back in the water. He had originally just wanted to take a bath after a long day, but he had discovered after almost passing out from blood loss that his wound had reopened. So he— regretfully— asked Lucifer for help. And see how that turned out.

They were past modesty, as they’d fucked many times, mostly a learning experience for both of them, though they’d never specified their relationship. They still bickered like they hated each other, but behind closed doors, only Satan knew the things they did.

“Al?” Lucifer spoke up, and Alastor opened one eye to look at him. “What?” He asked. Lucifer wanted to tell him that his face was bright red, but didn’t know how to phrase it without his head getting bit off, so he settled with, “just checking you were still awake. I couldn’t tell.”

Alastor huffed. He was notoriously known for being awful at reading people, so he didn’t think any further into it. “Yes, well, I’m still very much awake.” He replied. Lucifer only hummed in response, playing with the damp fluff on Alastor’s chest. He traced faded scars down the deer’s body, simply enjoying the man in front of him. Alastor let him without hassle, since he liked the attention
A kiss to Alastor’s chest made him open an eye again. He watched as Lucifer kissed up his chest, neck, jaw, and eventually pressed a kiss to his lips. Alastor kissed him back, less reserved than usual. He never really understood the hype of kissing until he felt the angel’s lips. The feeling was addicting, and he found he was always missing it.

He bit at Lucifer’s lip, drawing a drop of blood and licking it up. Lucifer pulled away with a gasp, licking his bleeding lip and looking at Alastor in mild annoyance. “Did you really just bite me?” He asked, leaning back and crossing his arms. Alastor chuckled to himself, grinning wider than usual. “Possibly.”

“You bastard. Do it again.” With that, Lucifer leaned in again, kissing him with more passion. Alastor complied, tugging at Lucifer’s bottom lip and biting it, licking the fresh blood. Lucifer let out a small groan, shifting the hand not supporting his weight to rest on Alastor’s hip. His snakelike tongue slipped into Alastor’s mouth, tangling with his, and he pressed himself further on top of him.
The bathwater was suddenly unimportant around Alastor as he made out with the angel, too busy trying to pleasure the man. Lucifer let out another muffled moan as Alastor’s hand moved to his back, pressing him against him. He shifted upwards a little, so he was sitting more than laying, and adjusted Lucifer so he was straddling him, his knees on either side of the deer’s body. Lucifer didn’t budge, still kissing him, and grabbing Alastor’s jaw to keep him focused on him.

Alastor let a hand wander down to Lucifer’s ass, squeezing the flesh and being rewarded with a whine as Lucifer ground his hips down against him. Alastor hummed in amusement, enjoying how simple it was to get Lucifer riled up. If he was planning on going any further, though, he’d prefer to do it outside of the bath, so he gently pulled Lucifer off him.

The angel pouted when he was removed from Alastor, and Alastor patted him on the head with a wet hand. “I refuse to do any more while bathing. I have my limits.” He said, scrunching up his nose at the thought of sitting in all the gross after fluids. Lucifer grumbled, but agreed, leaning against the wall with a sigh as he tried to will away his growing hard-on.

“Fine, I suppose. But just know, you’re getting it the second you step out of this tub.” Lucifer growled, not being able to resist grabbing at Alastor’s thigh. “I’ll hold you to that.” Alastor remarked, not wanting to admit his own impatience. It wasn’t often he craved this sort of intimacy, but with Lucifer, he was allowed to experiment with almost anything he wanted to try, and he found it almost enjoyable. Mostly he was just curious, and Lucifer was so lonely he would accept intimacy from anyone at this point.

Lucifer grabbed the body wash to distract himself, cleaning himself absently as he watched Alastor lie in the water. The sinner was admittedly one of the hottest men Lucifer had encountered in his millennia of existence. His curly red hair was well maintained, the brown fur covering his whole body velvety soft, and goddamn those eyes. Lucifer wasn’t in love. No, he loathed the man. But damn, he was fine.

Alastor knew Lucifer was looking at him. He always was. Though, he was just as bad. He almost always had his shadow following Lucifer around, watching the king with the same intent.

Alastor went about his regular routine, washing and conditioning all of his fur, leaving his hair for a different day. He summoned a shadow creature to bring him a towel, feeling the way Lucifer perked up at the sight. Alastor stood slowly, water dripping down his form, and heard Lucifer practically squeal at the sight. He looked down at the man with a grin, seeing him scramble to summon his own towel. Alastor wrapped his towel around his waist, stepping out of the water and onto the carpet. Lucifer followed, already dry thanks to a simple snap of his fingers. That made Alastor doubt he even needed to bathe in the first place.

“So.” Lucifer started. Alastor quickly interrupted him. “Give me a goddamn minute, Lu. And if you make a mess of my fur, you have to clean it,” Lucifer scoffed, that was easy. “By hand.” Alastor finished. Lucifer’s smug expression faded, and he huffed and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. He pulled the plug and let out all the water as Alastor dried off and pulled his hair out of his shower cap. Lucifer was mesmerized by the curls as Alastor shook his hair out, not dislike a dog would.

“Alright.” Alastor finally said, dropping the towel in the laundry and opening the bathroom door, which led to Alastor’s room. Lucifer practically pounced on him, pushing him onto the bed without any effort. Alastor let out a noise of surprise, but allowed him to do what he pleased.

“My king, since you were so patient, you can be rewarded. What do you want this time?” Alastor asked, leaning up on his elbows to look at Lucifer, who had climbed on top of him. They had been trying out different kinks, since Alastor was curious and Lucifer wanted to know if his tastes had changed in the almost decade since he’d been with someone.
.
“Damn it, I just want to fuck you. Wanna destroy you, fuck you so hard you forget your own name.” Lucifer growled, pushing Alastor onto his back. It was clear the waiting had gotten to him. Alastor grinned wider, resting his head on his pillow. He wanted to let Lucifer have his way with him, while he just laid there luxuriously. His fur was fluffy and softer than usual, and he had just changed the sheets of his bed, and he was soaking up the clean feeling before it was inevitably going to be messed up. Call him a pillow princess, he was pleased.

“God damn, you’re so pretty.” Lucifer murmured as he rolled Alastor onto his stomach, running his fingers through his soft fur. Alastor let out a content squeak, enjoying the praise. Lucifer’s fingers eventually found their way to Alastor’s ass, and he settled between his legs as he pressed a finger to his tight entrance. A shiver ran down Alastor’s spine, but that was the only reaction until Lucifer’s first finger was a knuckle in. Alastor squeaked, hiding his face in the pillow to try to conceal the noise. The burn was pleasant, and he found himself quickly wanting more.

“Fucking hell.” Lucifer mumbled, pressing his already hard dick against the back of Alastor’s fluffy thigh. His finger pushed all the way in, and he relished in the groan Alastor let out. He let him adjust, before adding a second finger. “So fucking perfect, Al…”

Chapter Text

“King of hell himself, eh? You’ve really got something going for yourself there.” Orpha commented as she sat down at the table with Alastor. He startled up, looking at her in mild surprise. “What makes you say that?” He asked, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Orpha only chuckled, summoning a full plate of pancakes and venison and pushing it towards him. He took it happily, murmuring his thanks before taking a bite.

“Your appearance tells quite a story, dear.” Orpha replied after a beat of silence, grinning. Alastor’s eyes widened, looking away with a slightly embarrassed expression. His hair was messed up, more than usual in the morning, he had dark bags under his eyes, and most notably, multiple hickeys on his neck and a golden bloodstain on his loose shirt. “Oh, quiet.” He grumbled, taking a bite of pancake to mask his embarrassment.

“Come now, darling, I’m not judging. Just… maybe clean yourself up before going downstairs.” Orpha murmured, summoning herself her own plate of pancakes, this one without the meat.
“I will, mama.” Alastor mumbled, running a hand through his hair absently as he ate. Orpha smiled, reaching over the table and ruffling his hair in affection, even though he had just smoothed it. If it were anyone else, Alastor would have snapped them in half for that, but he just let out a content squeak at her touch.

Orpha sat back with a smile, eating most of her pancakes quickly before pushing the plate away, leaning her face on a propped up paw. Alastor’s ear twitched as he felt her gaze land on him, but he continued eating, since he had barely eaten all of yesterday. He was glad to have Orpha, to remind him to eat.

Orpha gazed at her adopted son affectionately, though she found her eyes closing and ended up dozing off. It was too early for her to be awake.

Alastor noticed a couple moments later, humming in amusement as he finished eating and stood up, brushing himself off. He summoned a shadow to help lift her up, following as it took her back to her room and laid her in bed. He watched her peacefully sleep, a wave of nostalgia washing over him, and suddenly he was a kid again, peeking into his mom’s room with tears in his eyes. He crawled into his mother’s bed, settling next to her and nudging his way between her arms.

He could almost believe he was back home as he laid in Orpha’s arms, though she was much shorter than him and he was a grown man now. He still curled up in her arms, nuzzling his muzzle into her plush neck, breathing in her milky scent. He felt incredibly vulnerable, but also comforted by her presence. He fell asleep, wrapped up in the blankets and her arms.

Orpha slowly woke up to her face being tickled by red fur. She looked down to find Alastor curled against her, and a pang of maternal possessiveness wracked through her. She pulled him closer, running her hands through his hair in that comforting way he liked. His ear flicked, but that was the only response she got. He must have been tired if he didn’t wake up at the slightest movement. She wondered if Lucifer had mistreated him, and the thought angered her. She pressed her nose to the top of Alastor’s head, falling back asleep without her permission.

Chapter Text

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” Lucifer asked, his head in Alastor’s lap. Alastor looked down at him with a tight smile, annoyed at the question. “No, I don’t believe I would.” He responded, before focusing back on his book. “Oh.” Lucifer responded with a pout. “Really? What if I was living my best life as a worm, though?” He said, stretching out in Alastor’s lap before looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

Alastor sighed and put his book down, knowing there was no way of getting out of the questioning this time. “That would not change a thing. You would be a worm, and me a sinner. It would not work out.” He said, his voice patient even though he felt far from it.

“Okay, but like, I’m a sexy worm. With a little worm hat.” Lucifer proposed, waving his hands in the air. Alastor’s muzzle scrunched up in distaste. “That would be… quite a sight, your majesty.” He said, his annoyance clear in his tone.

“Well, I can make it happen!” Lucifer decides, sitting up and almost hitting his head on Alastor’s chin. “Please, no.” Alastor started, but it was already too late. Lucifer had shapeshifted to a tiny little worm on Alastor’s leg, wiggling around. As he promised, he had on his signature hat, way too big for his tiny body.

“Eugh.” Alastor said, picking him up by the tail end and dangling him in front of his face. Worm-Lucifer made a noise of irritation, trying to wiggle out of Alastor’s grasp, but was unsuccessful. “You know, like this I could easily step on you. Or eat you, in one bite.” Alastor mused, licking his teeth, which stuck out of his mouth with how big and sharp they were. Lucifer squirmed as he was dangled over Alastor’s gaping mouth, shifting back to his regular form and crossing his arms.

Alastor hummed, picking up his book again. “So the hat wasn’t doing it for you. What if I added a bowtie…?” Lucifer murmured to himself, not at all concerned that he was moments away from getting consumed by his lover. “I would eat you either way.” Alastor commented, not looking up from his book.

Lucifer grumbled, sprawling out on the couch and resting his head on Alastor’s thighs. He peeked up at the book above him, but the tiny letters were swirling around the page unintelligibly. Thanks, God, for giving him the first ever case of dyslexia. He turned his head around, pressing his face to Alastor's stomach. He could feel the material of the corset he wore underneath his dress shirt, and he snuck a hand under the layer so he could feel at Alastor’s waist. The deer didn’t move a muscle, though he did spare a short glance at Lucifer.

Chapter Text

Masterbation:

This wasn’t the first time this had happened. It wasn’t the first time Lucifer had ended up in this situation. After a long day of being teased and tortured by a certain red deer, it was difficult to contain himself. So that was why he was currently curled up in his bed, no clothes to be found, wings spread wide, jerking off to the memory of Alastor’s smug grin from earlier. It was shameful, the way he was so desperate for his touch. He was already a whimpering mess, hand gliding over his cock smoothly with the amount of pre-cum coating it. He gasped, running his free hand up his body and imagining it was the claw of Alastor. He played with his nipple, heightening his pleasure as his back arched into his own hand. His strokes quicken, and with a pitiful mewl of Alastor’s name, came on his hand.

Chapter Text

Coming Untouched:

Alastor pinned Lucifer to the bed, his hands instantly going to the angel's pants. They had been flitting around each other all day and Alastor had lost his patience. He unbuckled Lucifer’s belt with practiced precision, instantly pulling down his pants and boxers the second he could. Lucifer whined above him, lacing his small fingers through curly red hair as Alastor pressed his muzzle against Lucifer’s inner thigh. He breathed in the scent of exposed flesh, taking a moment before without warning, plunging his tongue into Lucifer’s soaked pussy. Lucifer practically shrieked. Another time Alastor would have to tease the man about just how wet he already was, but for now he was busy trying to pleasure him. Lucifer quivered, trying to pull Alastor’s head closer.
With his deerlike muzzle and extremely sharp teeth, it was always hard to eat Lucifer out, but Alastor was nothing if not persistent. He retracted his tongue from Lucifer’s hole, licking a stripe from his pussy to his clit, relishing in the sharp whines and moans he received. He swirled his long tongue around the bud, drawing out a high-pitched moan. A claw reached up, replacing his tongue as his mouth moved back down to his folds. Alastor licked at them, earning a groan, and then went back to tongue-fucking Lucifer.
The fallen angel let out moans and mewls, lost in the pleasure Alastor was giving him. His thighs moved up instinctively to encage Alastor’s head, squeezing him lightly. Alastor let out a moan at that, the supple thighs practically suffocating him. He could feel his dick throb in his too-tight pants, and he doubled his efforts on Lucifer’s cunt. Lucifer let out a final cry, before coming hard, shaking with the impact. Alastor felt Lucifer’s juices all over his face, which combined with the impossible squeeze around his head, caused him to come in his pants with a low moan, completely untouched. They recovered in silence, Lucifer releasing his head in favor of collapsing onto the mattress in pure bliss. Alastor was still trying to register what had just happened when Lucifer raised his head to look at him. His eyes widened comically large as he saw the dark wet patch on the front of Alastor’s pants.
“Did you…?” Lucifer asked in surprise, cheeks flushed bright gold. Alastor looked away with a snarl. “None of your business.” He growled, ears flicking back in embarrassment. “Fuck, that’s hot.” Lucifer mumbled, laying back again with a blissed out expression.