Having Lucifer now living under the same roof was driving Alastor absolutely nuts. That very first encounter had been trying enough and that had only been a short visit. However, brief though it was, it had certainly been an experience. One that Alastor had still not quite recovered from.
He had steadied himself for the visit putting all his pent-up disdain for the King on full display. He’d even made said disdain blatantly obvious in his display of open false hospitality and poorly disguised lack of civility. Alastor had made it known how little he thought of the King’s presence. It was entirely unnecessary.
Alastor had managed to suppress his unfortunate human weaknesses since his arrival here in Hell. Even knowing that this was Lucifer’s realm and being faced with the visual evidence and constant reminders everywhere he went, so long as he didn’t run into the fallen angel, he could put it all out of mind. On the rare occasion he’d seen one too many statues, paintings, or any other depiction of Lucifer, Alastor could simply retreat to the cool comfort of his bayou.
No matter where he chose to take up residence he’d always summoned his bayou to occupy some small corner. He was, unfortunately, a biological creature with the occasional lingering mortal urges that periodically needed some tending to. Most often this meant a quick cool dip in the refreshing murky waters of his bayou, but admittedly there were times when more primitive mechanical methods had been required.
Alastor was no fool. He had known for a very long time who had managed to awaken his desires as a boy growing into a man. He had always had a fascination with the stories of God’s most beautiful and beloved angel. Even as a young boy Alastor had felt a certain report with Lucifer. It had been Lucifer who asked the questions, challenged God’s assumptions, and gifted humanity with fire, science, art, free will, and even more importantly music.
Of course, Alastor had developed an understanding of Lucifer and a fondness for him that he couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t until he got older and certain things were expected of him that his fondness shifted towards something more. Alastor had been attractive, young and was considered a charmer. He was simply polite. In truth he was never interested in the women who swooned over him. He wasn’t quite interested in the men either, though at some point he had become aware of the concept of relations between two men.
It wasn’t until he realized that his mind had wandered far too often into that particular subject matter that he started to turn his attention inward. Alastor had to reflect for quite some time before he came to the conclusion that he was simply interested in the concept because Lucifer was most often depicted as an attractive man going about charming unsuspecting maidens into all manner of debauchery.
Alastor’s adolescent mind coupled with his raging teen hormones had caused his thoughts to venture into territory he could hardly admit to himself. The fact of the matter was, no human ever sparked his interest, but Lucifer had. He was the first temptation, after all. The most beautiful of the seraphim. The first time Alastor looked upon a depiction of Lucifer as an enticing adonis walking among the mortals, his body reacted. From then on he knew, no one but The Devil himself would ever be good enough to get this kind of physiological reaction from him.
Unfortunately for Alastor, his body was TOO reactive to Lucifer. Being able to retreat to his bayou for a cool dip had been enough when he was merely faced with images, but having the real thing right in front of him had been an entirely different matter. Alastor had suspected he may find himself unable to maintain perfect composure if ever forced into immediate proximity. However, he’d been in Hell for a while and had plenty of time to prepare for such a possibility and had come up with several possible scenarios and contingency plans.
None of that had helped him. Alastor had expected to feel a bit of intrigue and perhaps even some mild interest stir from his treacherous body, but nothing he couldn’t stifle. He hadn’t been able to resist the pull. Even as he internally berated himself for his urges his body had moved on its own. Alastor had wanted to be closer, to touch, to be touched.
Lucifer had touched him, alright. Within minutes of their initial meeting, it seemed like their hands were everywhere on one another. The memory of their faces pressed to each other, lips barely brushing, nearly kissing still haunted Alastor. Just thinking of it was enough to ignite those long repressed desires and send tingles to places he tried not to think about.
Alastor hadn’t been able to control it much in his youth. He had spent a regrettable amount of time imagining what it might be like to offer himself to The Devil, to give his entire body and soul to Lucifer. As an adult, aware of how things worked in the world, Alastor had contemplated fooling around with one of the pathetic men who were clearly watching him far too closely, their eyes often lingering on his slim hips. They were too easy to lure out to his remote cabin, and it had crossed Alastor’s mind to try it at least once.
Perhaps if he pictured Lucifer as the adonis, he could find out what all the fuss was about, but then would the real Lucifer still want him? Alastor was always quite certain of his destination in death, so the possibility of standing face to face with The Morningstar solidified his resolve. He would keep himself pure for God’s favorite and most beautiful angel. No man would be allowed to touch him…except for himself.
Touch himself he did. Now that Lucifer had moved into the hotel and pranced about exposed like some trollop, he found himself needing to retreat to his bayou for a cool dip far more often. He also found it had been less and less effective. The more Lucifer looked at him, conversed with him, even if just to antagonize him, the more Alastor’s body seemed to crave him. On the occasions they actually came into even the slightest bit of physical contact it felt like Lucifer had set every nerve in Alastor’s body alight with holy flame.
Unholy flame was more like it. Here it was just after midnight and once again Alastor found himself partially submerged in the cold waters of his bayou unable to douse the flames Lucifer had fanned in his latent libido. It seemed this would be one of those nights Alastor would need to take matters quite literally into his own hands… and shadows. Alastor lifted himself from his cold bath and headed for a hot shower instead.
At least within the confines of a hot shower the evidence of his carnal activities would be quickly washed away. As the hot water of the showers ran down his back and encased him in steam Alastor pumped himself in time with the rhythm of the shadow tentacle roughly plunging into him from behind. He imagined if Lucifer ever were to take him, it would be rough and fast and without mercy. Alastor had formed his shadow tendril to what he suspected resembled Lucifer’s member.
Of course, Alastor had no idea what Lucifer’s own anatomy sported, having not seen that particular part of him, so he fashioned his shadow based body proportions and what Alastor could remember of the depiction of the adonis. Lucifer had gotten him thoroughly riled up earlier in the day and they had ended up in yet another tug of war pushing and shoving match. One of Lucifer’s hands had pinned Alastor to the wall by the throat and that had done unexpected things to his body. He had been forced to meld into his shadows and retreat lest he embarrass himself.
Now he tried to remember how it felt. Alastor thought of Lucifer’s voice, that delicious primal growl that accented it whenever Alastor annoyed him enough. He thought of Lucifer’s face, his eyes boring into him and his lips barely out of kissing reach. Alastor wondered what it would be like to finally kiss Lucifer, to taste that teasing forked tongue of his. He imagined Lucifer’s tongue forcing itself in and out of his mouth. He wanted Lucifer to tongue fuck his throat while he took him.
Imagining what he wanted Lucifer to do to him was no longer enough for him. Alastor had a very vivid imagination, but conjuring the sounds, images, and sensations were no longer a relief to him. It had become more like the Torment of Tantalous. Tantalous had been forced to stand in water that would recede whenever he tried to drink, always thirsty, surrounded by water he could see and touch, but never taste, leaving his thirst unquenched. Alastor was finding himself unable to quench his own thirst.
Lucifer was always present, always too close, sometimes even touching, but never enough. Alastor’s own hands and shadows weren’t enough anymore. He needed more. He stopped his futile attempts at self-satisfaction and let out a frustrated growl. He knew Lucifer might still be awake fidgeting with some silly child’s plaything at this hour and he might get caught, but there was a chance the king had already gone to bed.
Alastor had no intention of violating Lucifer in his sleep. He wasn’t a creep. He just… needed to see him, to smell his scent. Maybe he could finish if he quietly observed Lucifer from the shadows just for a bit. Alastor stepped out of the shower, wrapped his own far more tasteful robe around himself, and let his shadows swallow him to carry him down the hallway. Just as he slipped under Lucifer’s door, he heard it.
Lucifer was making a sound he’d never heard him make before and for some reason it was having a profound effect on his already delicate state. A raspy heavy breathing was coming from the direction of Lucifer’s rather undignified duck bed, but the room was dark. The sounds and the smell, however, were unmistakable. Alastor had not been the only one seeking relief from the inconvenience of inhabiting a biological body. He should retreat. He should remove himself from this situation immediately.
His very overstimulated and still frustratingly unsatisfied body remained frozen in place just inside Lucifer’s bedroom door listening to what were clearly the sounds of Lucifer attempting to reach his own climax. Alastor was fixated. He kept his eyes closed to prevent Lucifer noticing their red glow in the dark of the room, but he listened intently. Lucifer huffed out a few broken words in that oh so delicious growl of his. “hmm that’s it…almost there…ah do you…ha…have any idea…mmm what I want…to do to you…” Alastor really was experiencing tantalizing torment.
Lucifer’s voice was doing wonders to his body, but his brain was ruining it. Alastor wanted to hear Lucifer make more noises, scream his name, but he knew the person Lucifer wanted was Lilith. Alastor was never more envious of that woman than he was now. He listened to Lucifer plead to the presumed empty room for salvation, “come on… just a little more… Bambi.”
Bambi? There was no way he heard that right. That’s one of the silly nicknames Lucifer calls him. Alastor’s eyes flew open and were met with golden ones looking directly at him. Before he could wonder if he’d been caught, if Lucifer could really see him, Lucifer spoke a bit breathless.
“Enjoying yourself, Bambi?” Lucifer purred out the name. “You certainly look like you are. Did you come to my room at this hour hoping for a show?”
He was more than caught. Alastor hadn’t just been caught watching, he’d been discovered in his full state of arousal hiding in the shadows of Lucifer’s room indulging in lewd and admittedly creepy behavior. Yet, Lucifer was not scolding him. He wasn’t freaking out, yelling, or insulting him. Instead, he was teasing him in a very different way. He was purring, coaxing, luring him. Alastor was caving to it. The thought that Lucifer might want him had Alastor willing to risk it. “It’s too dark for a show. What else did you have in mind?”
“Personally, I’m in the mood for venison. And you?”
“I could go for a midnight ride.” Although too dark to see much else from where he still stood just inside the door, Alastor could see those golden eyes widen and then flash to their fiery red indicating Lucifer’s demonic side was taking over.
“What are you waiting for, Alastor? Come take what you want.”
Alastor didn’t need to be told twice. Lucifer told him to take what he wanted, that wasn’t just consent, that was a command. Who was he to disobey a command from The Devil?
“As you wish.” Alastor melted into his shadows again and reemerged directly over Lucifer on the bed, his knees to either side of Lucifer’s torso. Lucifer’s hands ran up his thighs slowly to his hips and began to guide him back. He was being surprisingly gentle, perhaps waiting for Alastor to move on his own, to call his bluff or back out. Well, if Lucifer thought he wouldn’t follow through, he was in for quite the shock.
Actually, it was Alastor who was in for the shock. As he lowered and reached behind himself to take hold of Lucifer’s appendage to guide it into himself, he realized Lucifer was much more equipped than what he had envisioned. He had thought himself adequately prepared from his earlier ministrations with his shadow tendril in the shower. However, the tendril he had conjured to replicate the approximate size he presumed Lucifer to be was nothing compared to schlong he wrapped his long fingers around.
Lucifer smirked at him, smug, but still alluring. “Need some help there, Bambi?”
There was that nickname again, but oddly enough it only added to Alastor’s arousal. Only Lucifer called him that and he presumed he was also the only was Lucifer called by that name. Alastor disregarded his offer for ‘help’ opting instead to line himself up and proceed to slowly drop himself down onto Lucifer’s spear. The hiss that came out of Lucifer as he did so was well worth the initial discomfort of having something so much larger than his shadow tendril stretch his insides beyond anything he had tried before in exploration of self-gratification.
Alastor took a minute to adjust, and was once again surprised by Lucifer’s actions, or rather this time, inactions. Lucifer didn’t rush him, didn’t try to hurry him, made no effort to move himself. He just gripped Alastor’s hips, not painfully, but hard enough his claws dug in. It felt just right to Alastor. He rolled his hips forward experimentally and moaned as Lucifer gasped and gripped his hips a bit harder. Alastor’s own hands dug into Lucifer’s chest and shoulders as he leaned forward and rolled his hips again.
Lucifer rocked up into him and together they fell into a rhythm. One that quickly built up to faster, more forceful and erratic thrusts. Alastor was bouncing up and slamming himself back down onto Lucifer to grind down him into the bed with every downward thrust. The grunts and growls and praises coming from the fallen angel beneath him further fueling his licentious movements.
Alastor was vaguely aware he was making quite a bit of noise himself. He could hear the lustful lewd wines, whimpers, and full moans escaping him, but couldn’t stop himself from chasing the pleasure. Lucifer’s composure was also slipping, all because of Alastor. Lucifer chanted for him to keep going, to keep riding, to keep moaning for him and Alastor obliged. Not that he could stop himself even if he wanted to at this point. His relief was finally imminent. He could feel it just out of reach but couldn’t quite achieve it himself.
Alastor called out to Lucifer. “Lucifer…I can’t…hmmm…I need…” he didn’t quite know what or how to ask. Lucifer angled his own hips beneath Alastor just as Alastor was slamming back down on him. The new angle caused the head of Lucifer’s shaft to press right where Alastor needed it to. “Ah there! Hmph… fuck me right there… like that, Lucifer!”
“Alastor, I’m…” Lucifer pulled Alastor’s hips down hard as he lurched hard up into him while still maintaining the adjusted angle.
The way Lucifer roared his name and the feeling of Lucifer’s hot release combined with that final hard hit to that perfect spot inside him had Alastor’s body spasming. He clenched around Lucifer and collapsed on top of his chest. Lucifer didn’t laugh, didn’t mock, just lifted his arms to wrap around Alastor holding him to his chest. They lay there sweating and panting for a few long moments. Alastor listened to Lucifer’s heartbeat slow and his breathing stabilize. He didn’t want to lift his head. He didn’t want to look Lucifer in the eyes. He knew they had both been out of their minds with need, lost to lust, incapable of rational thinking earlier, but now?
“Hmmm that was some ride. Are you going to hide now, my beautiful bashful Bambi?”
Alastor finally risked glancing up. He knew he must look pathetic laying there atop Lucifer’s chest trembling like a fawn, but he couldn’t move. His body felt like over cooked noodles. Lucifer ran his hand through Alastor’s hair, pushing it away from his face and causing him to shiver.
“There you are. Now let’s get you cleaned up.”
It seemed like Lucifer wasn’t done surprising him. Alastor would never have predicted the gentle handling and tender touches he was receiving from Lucifer, and under any other circumstances he wouldn’t have allowed it. He has his pride too. Though, that had obviously abandoned him earlier in the evening, along with his wits. At the moment he didn’t even have it in him to shadow travel himself out of this awkward situation. All he could do was try to make sense of it. “Why are you doing this?”
“It’s called after care, Bambi, and now we sleep.”
“Sleep? Together?”
“Well technically we already slept together and after what we just did, yes, sleep. We have a lot to talk about in the morning.”
“It is morning.”
“The MORNING morning.”
Alastor sighed. He had a million thoughts running through his head, but in one soft move Lucifer silenced them. Lucifer had, for the first time, pressed his lips to Alastor’s in a real kiss. Alastor closed his eyes and kissed back. Maybe the conversation awaiting them wouldn’t be so disastrous. If Lucifer was willing to kiss him like this, even after the insanity of their intense desire had been satiated, perhaps the next time Alastor found himself unable to sleep he could take another midnight ride.
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