Chapter Text
Despite all available evidence to the contrary, Alastor didn’t consider himself a particularly violent man. Cruel, certainly. Sadistic even. But ‘violent’ implied an uncontrolled, brutish aggression that didn’t at all align with his preferred sense of self.
So it was a, quite frankly, unbearable feeling to find himself once again struggling to keep his disposition in check. In this moment, with Lucifer’s tongue halfway down his throat and pressing his body against his in a way that was nothing short of wanton, he found himself desperately battling with his self-control.
Specifically, he was trying hard not to give in to his desire to push Lucifer face-first against the nearest surface and fuck him into submission. Or following his instincts and mauling him; teeth and claws rending flesh from bone.
The satisfaction of doing either would be immeasurable.
But, that was not the play here. Even as his dick stiffened with an agonising ache, he kept his resolve in check, letting Lucifer lead this particular dance.
And Lucifer seemed happy enough to take charge. One hand had snaked inside Alastor’s dressing gown; slender fingers trailing down his spine to teasingly caress the small of his back. The other was tangled in Alastor’s hair, Lucifer enjoying how easily he could manipulate the depth of their kiss with each tug and pull.
Despite his impatience, Alastor acquiesced to being led. For the most part. He still nipped at Lucifer’s lips when given the opportunity; grazing his long, jagged teeth over the plump, swollen flesh, teasing a more satisfying bite. Lucifer gasped; given how red his mouth was, he must still be a little sore from yesterday’s onslaught.
Alastor wondered where else Lucifer still felt the echoes of their tryst.
He cupped Lucifer’s jaw as he kissed him before idly stroking down the column of his throat; he traced his thumb against his Adam’s apple, barely holding back the urge to dig his claw into the sensitive skin. At the slight pressure against his windpipe, Lucifer whimpered.
And oh, wasn’t it delicious. Alastor wanted more of those sounds. Was hungry for them. Ravenous. He wanted nothing more than to grab a fistful of Lucifer’s hair, yank it hard just hear his whine of pain. Make Lucifer moan as he cruelly added new marks to join the purple bruises that no doubt bloomed beneath the collar of his shirt.
And no matter how much it hurt; he knew the king of Hell would beg him for more.
But he couldn’t do any of that. Not yet.
He had to keep Lucifer blissfully unaware of the impending danger, had to make sure that he wasn’t even entertaining the possibility that Alastor would do anything even slightly perceived as threatening.
Lucifer had to let his guard down, and then, and only then, would Alastor take what was owed to him.
But how infuriating it was that Lucifer wasn’t giving him anything more than a kiss. Even his hands, pawing at Alastor’s skin as if he couldn’t feel enough of him, were staying distinctly above the belt, doing nothing to satisfy the growing heat building in Alastor’s groin.
Alastor groaned. His constraints were self-inflicted, but he still yearned to do as he pleased. To take what was owed to him. He broke the kiss with an impatient growl, a long line of saliva trailing between them as he withdrew.
“So, what do you say?” Lucifer asked, his voice breathless and needy. He used his fingers tangled in Alastor’s hair to tilt his head down to face him, eyes dark with lust. “Wanna give a bed a try?”
Alastor felt strangely caught under that gaze; as alien it was to have someone so openly desire him, it even more strange for it to be Lucifer who wanted him.
The fool.
Well, Alastor knew him to be nothing but unwise.
“If you wish.”
Lucifer smiled back at him, wolfishly, so incredibly pleased to be getting his way. He pulled Alastor closer, close enough that Alastor could feel his breath on his face. Close enough to be intimate.
“I mean,” he all but whispered, “if you think you can manage something so… conventional?”
Alastor didn’t miss the slight laugh in Lucifer’s voice, the small giggle of mischief. But it was a weak taunt, by Lucifer’s standards. He grinned back at him, an automatic reaction that he hoped hid the yearning he felt to punish him for it. To wreck him.
“Lead the way.”
Lucifer all but dragged him to the bed, radiating with enthusiasm and an almost youthful eagerness. Striking an enticing pose, he looked up at Alastor, waiting, wanting.
“Well?” He beckoned for Alastor to join him, looking almost giddy with anticipation. “What are you waiting for? Come on, come on! Get your ass over here!”
Alastor dutifully kneeled on the bed, casting a menacing shadow over Lucifer’s reclining body. His instincts were very clear, and were all but screaming at him to act: he wanted to flip Lucifer over, tear his pants down over his hips and take him; wanted to drive his hot, hard cock into the searing heat of Lucifer’s body. He wanted to hear Lucifer cry and scream as he sent them both careening to an unbearable end, relishing the heady mix of pleasure and pain.
More than anything, he wanted Lucifer’s unconditional submission. He wanted more than to devour him; he wanted to own him.
The Wendigo wanted to sate its hunger. The Radio Demon wanted his soul. And Alastor wanted to dominate the King of Hell.
And yet, Alastor did nothing. He didn’t touch, didn’t take the offered meal. Not yet. He didn’t dare to, not with how he was feeling in that moment. He had to be patient. This was all part of the plan. Let Lucifer come to him.
But it was so difficult. Alastor had never felt so tempted, either in life or after it.
The want was unbearable.
When nothing immediately happened, a look of brief surprise crossed Lucifer’s face, his eyebrows raising to his hairline in query. Alastor waited, outwardly patient, meeting his look with an expression of forced indifference.
“Well? Aren’t you going to have your wicked way with me?” Lucifer asked, all but sprawling on the crumpled bedding, arms and legs splayed wide. He unhooked the fastening of his jacket collar, teasing a glimpse at the bruised flesh beneath. “Come on, do your worst!”
Alastor wanted to. The things he could do. They were alone, locked in a room Lucifer had no chance of escaping. Well, not quickly, anyway. They wouldn’t be interrupted – and even if they were, there was nothing anyone on the outside could do about it. And, most importantly, there was no deal between them keeping Alastor from acting upon his unholy desires.
But. Not yet. It wasn’t time. Lucifer was nowhere near docile enough to allow him to do everything he wanted. He might allow- and even enjoy – Alastor ravishing his body and leaving him a sobbing, whimpering mess of blissful hurt, but he wouldn’t just lie down and take him trying to tear his soul apart.
And so, Alastor didn’t dare move. He stayed stock still, trying to look disinterested but knowing, knowing that Lucifer could see his cock pressing against the silky fabric of his dressing gown where it fell between his legs. Fuck, he was so hard it hurt.
“And what would you like me to do, sire?” he asked, keeping his tone in check, as friendly and cheerful as it ever was, even as he fought with the raw desire that bubbled beneath the surface.
Lucifer’s face flitted between emotions – surprise-confusion-disappointment? before landing on his default smug. He smirked at him, his eyes flicking from his face, to his cock, and back up again.
“Oh! Are we playing that game?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows in an infuriating manner. “I didn’t know you were so into it. Haha, it explains a lot!”
“Or we can stop, if you prefer.” Alastor said, trying in vain not to rise to the taunt. He felt his cheeks begin to heat up, irritation mixing with his arousal.
“No, no no no! I just wasn’t expecting you to – well. I suppose it’s always the people you least expect, isn’t it?”
Alastor shrugged, though he felt a familiar feeling of exasperation kick up his ribs. He fought with himself to ignore the challenge in Lucifer’s eyes, and the promised battle that would lay beyond it if he chose to take the bait. But fuck, he wanted that too. Fighting or fucking, anything to bring him relief.
“So? What will it be?” he prompted. He hoped to hell that Lucifer couldn’t hear how strained his voice was, how precarious his grasp on his self-control.
“Well,” Lucifer said, grabbing a pillow and plumping it, getting comfortable, “since you’re already on your knees: suck me off. Please.”
Alastor kept his indifferent smile in place. He’d expected something like that, but the memory of the collar once again twinged at his throat. Lucifer’s instructions, his orders that had to be obeyed; he remembered how the chains had choked him, had mercilessly pulled him to the floor when he’d fought back, when he’d tried to resist.
Alastor knew that it was different now, that even though it didn’t look it, he was in control here; he was choosing to follow Lucifer’s lead. But the memory was raw, and visceral in his mind.
It wouldn’t be long before he could make Lucifer pay. Revenge, when he finally got the opportunity to taste it, would be so sweet.
And so, with his smile that was more of a grimace than genuine, he nodded. Though first, he had to do something about Lucifer’s state of dress. After all, here he was, practically naked, his robe only keeping him decent by a technicality, hot and bothered and wanting, and Lucifer was still looking as smart and put together as he always did.
As Alastor fussed unhooking the buttons holding Lucifer’s clothing together, it became increasingly clear that Lucifer wasn’t going to help. He just lay there, an infuriatingly smug grin on his face, unhelpfully watching as Alastor’s claws struggled with the finicky clasps and hooks. He even had the audacity to laugh when Alastor struggled with sliding his boots off; Alastor swore he was being difficult on purpose, moving in ways that were nothing short of uncooperative.
Alastor resisted the urge to rip the fabric into shreds. It worked so well last time, and the satisfaction he got from brutally destroying something – even something small - was not insignificant.
He held back. Barely.
Finally, after what felt like an agonisingly long time, Lucifer was naked.
Alastor couldn’t help but admire him; he was beautiful.
Against the red-and-black bed-sheets, pillows and duvet, his skin looked particularly stark, practically glowing with the contrast. He had a pale pink blush creeping from his cheeks, down his neck, to his chest where it beautifully mixed and mottled with the day-old bruises. Even with his incredible angelic healing ability, his stomach was still scarred from yesterday’s encounter; ugly golden-and-red wounds created by Alastor’s monstrous teeth.
It was a testimony. Proof that Alastor had gotten this close to killing him. Close, but not enough. He didn’t let himself look for too long, wouldn’t let himself linger on his failure.
Alastor didn’t know what sort of expression was currently playing on his features, but he schooled his face as soon as he noticed that Lucifer was watching him with interest.
Enough stalling.
With no further thought he dipped his head and took Lucifer in his mouth. The déjà vu slammed into him, hard, as he was brought back to the radio tower; once again on his knees working to bring Lucifer to orgasm. And like before, it was easy to be mechanical about it all; just focus on creating suction, angling his head to take him as deep as he could, letting his lips slide up and down his length, glide the blade of his tongue to lick every place he knew to be sensitive.
There was a slight hitch in Lucifer’s breathing, followed by a slow exhale as he settled deeper into the cushions.
“Mmm, yeah… like that…” Alastor felt a hand rest on the back of his head, but Lucifer didn’t seem to be intending to push him down further, or really do much more that stroke his hair.
Alastor couldn’t explain why he found the action so offensive, why it irked him that Lucifer sounded content, his body comfortable and languid. Here he was, hunched over Lucifer’s lap, on his knees, his cock painfully hard and his base desires barely kept in check, and Lucifer had the nerve to act relaxed.
Alastor was trying to be titillating, was trying to make Lucifer feel at least some semblance of the carnal ache that was rushing through his own body, and, instead, Lucifer had the fucking gall to stroke his hair like he was a pet.
With a determined groan, he took him deeper, as far as he could, trying everything he knew – which admittedly wasn’t a lot – to make Lucifer respond with a bit more passion.
“Oh! Fuck, Al!”
At least that was effective. Lucifer gasped, his abdominal muscles tensing as he fought to control the shift in pace and intensity. He was clearly failing. He thrust up into Alastor’s mouth, a low moan pulling from the back of his throat.
Alastor groaned at the sudden movement, feeling his cock pulse and twitch in sympathetic response. He didn’t slow his pace, didn’t let Lucifer have even the slightest bit of relief. He drew back to wetly lick the swollen head before sinking down again, taking Lucifer deep into his throat.
“Fuck,” Lucifer gasped, breathless as Alastor’s throat swallowed around him, “I… you know what I think? I think that you like this. I think your deals and contracts are all some big – ah! - excuse to have you sucking the cock of anyone who can get the better of you.”
Alastor choked with indignance; a screech of radio feedback pierced the air and Lucifer all but flinched at the sting of static that accompanied it.
“Hahaa---ah! That’s it, isn’t it?” He laughed, the breathy sound ending on a whine of pleasure. “It’s why you’re constantly showing off that you’re, you're this superior, powerful overlord, gloating about no one can challenge you – you, you want someone capable of reducing you to this. Oh fuck-”
Alastor tried to ignore him, tried to slow his racing heartbeat, the blood pounding in his ears, and swallow down the tendrils of rage that were snaking up his throat. He knew an angry red flush was creeping over his cheeks and down his neck, could feel the heat radiating from it. He dug his nails into the bedding, shredding the fabric. He wished it was Lucifer’s skin he was ripping apart, golden blood spilling onto the sheets.
Lucifer laughed again, giggled, even, even as he endured the onslaught of sensation of Alastor’s mouth and tongue. “I’m right, aren’t I? Fuck! Look at how you’re blushing! You want this.”
Of course he didn’t want this. He hated this; hated the humiliation, hated the submission. He also hated that obeying Lucifer was the only recourse he had to get his revenge. Hated that this was his only opportunity to get even close enough to try. And, more than anything, he hated just how easy Lucifer found it to get him riled him up and angry.
Lucifer wasn’t done: “You want me to dominate you. It’s why you handed me your leash in the first place. You want me to take that control from you and reduce you to nothing but a mindless beast.”
Too much. He'd gone too far. Alastor couldn’t help himself; he growled, a low vibration that seemed to emanate from everywhere at once. His eyes flicked up to meet Lucifer’s, conveying all of his rage and resentment in a single, purposeful glare, even as his lips were stretched around his cock.
Lucifer groaned when their eyes met, throwing his head back into the cushions as his muscles tensed.
“Oh fuck!”
He suddenly jammed Alastor’s head firmly downwards, pushing his cock past the tight ring of muscle at the back of Alastor’s throat, and came. Alastor recoiled when he felt the first bitter, salty splash of cum; he pulled off, quickly, coughing and spluttering, and swallowing what he could.
Even as he choked and gasped, to his utter mortification, his own erection hadn’t subsided in the slightest. If anything, he was harder than he had been before, the head of his cock a dark, blood-filled red, and so unbearably hot.
The urge to fuck Lucifer into submission hadn’t subsided either, and with him lying there, inviting and defenseless, it would be so easy to crawl on top of him, pull his legs apart and take. He needed it, to satiate his lust and blood-lust alike. His satisfaction demanded it.
Alastor shuddered, trying – with great difficulty- to push the thought aside. As much as he wanted to, was dying to, he couldn’t let himself get preoccupied with such carnal acts; he needed to keep a clear mind for his plan to work, and clouding it with these wild desires would only distract him.
But fuck, he was distracted. He didn’t realise how testing his idea would be. How difficult it would be to keep a grip on his self-control. His rage. His desires.
He looked over to his prey. Lucifer was breathing heavily, nestled among the pillows and fighting to catch his breath. The last time he’d gotten Lucifer off like this, he’d been deliciously pliant afterwards, and Alastor distinctly remembered being able to get close enough to attack.
But here, he looked so, so… pleased? Smug? Definitely cognizant and definitely not in that drowsy and lethargic post-coitus haze that Alastor was aiming for.
The disappointment Alastor felt was immeasurable; the realisation that he would have to do even more was nothing short of infuriating.
“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck! Fuck me. You really know how to use your mouth, you know that?" Lucifer babbled, his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright, shining with glee. "Ah, I think I told you before. But I wasn’t wrong! I still can’t believe it: Radio Demon is great at giving head.”
“Am I supposed to be flattered by your comment?” Alastor snapped, roughly wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “Or are you trying to be insulting? Either way, I’m not impressed.”
“What?” Lucifer looked at him, and laughed again; Alastor felt a muscle jump in his cheek as he bit back his evident irritation. “No no no no. It’s just a surprise, is all! No one would believe me, anyway. Just like they wouldn’t believe me if I told them that you’re submissive.”
Before he could catch himself, Alastor’s heartbeat kicked up a notch, his pulse surging at the accusation. His eyes narrowed, his jaw locking and his muscles drawing tense. The room distinctly darkened around them, the lights fading, light bulbs popping as the air began to swirl with static electricity.
Lucifer looked amused as the shadows grew and eyes and teeth began to appear around them, malevolent lights in the dark. He propped himself up on his elbows, peering around the room with a delighted smirk. “I don’t know why you’re so pissed! Do you think I’m wrong?”
Alastor wanted to show to him just how wrong he was; that he hadn’t willingly submitted to anyone in his fucking life. Or afterlife. He’d killed men for suggesting less, tortured them for an eternity for even slightly challenging his power. But the calculating and conniving part of himself demanded that he remember why he was here. He snapped his teeth closed with an audible click, physically biting back the words he so wanted to say.
And so it was with great effort that he got a grip on his tumultuous emotions. The room slowly began to brighten again, the shadows withdrawing as suddenly as they came.
“Very,” he said, calmly. “But I have no interest in arguing with you. If you want to hold on to such a ridiculous fantasy, I’m not going to stop you.”
“Haha, a fantasy, is it?” Lucifer sat up with a grin. “Hah, sure it is. Alright then. Fine. Fine. If you say so. Alastor?”
“Yes?”
“Touch yourself.”
Alastor blinked, suddenly speechless. He opened his mouth and closed it on a snap.
“What? Why?” he asked, finally finding his voice.
“Because I feel sorry for you. That-” he gestured to Alastor’s cock, still hard and insistent in his lap “- looks close to painful. And, more importantly, because I told you to. And no matter how much you protest; I think that’s what you want. You like having someone order you around.”
Alastor barely caught himself before he did something reckless, like rip Lucifer limb from limb. He unclenched his jaw, unhooked his claws from where they had embedded in the mattress, and took a steadying breath.
“Don’t be absurd. Sir.”
“Who’s being absurd? I’m deadly serious. And I don’t think you’re in a position to argue. Go on; I’m waiting.”
Their eyes locked. Lucifer looked so confident, so sure that he’d be obeyed that Alastor was affronted.
On the one hand, he wanted nothing more than to disobey out of principle. He was getting tired of ignoring his instincts, of behaving in ways that went so contrary to his nature. But, if he fought Lucifer; challenged him, here and now, it would escalate. Whatever he did after that point, Lucifer would fight back, and Alastor was… not confident… that he’d win. The risk was too great.
But if he followed the ridiculous order, it would be no different to what Lucifer took from him in the radio tower. He would be just as vulnerable, just as exposed as when he had that accursed collar around his neck. The pain and humiliation was still fresh in his mind. To let Lucifer be in control of his pleasure-
No. He was being short-sighted. Any amount of shame would ultimately be a small price to pay. There was no question about it.
Humour him. Give him what he wants, then he’ll let his guard down.
And besides, he really was fucking hard. Some relief would be welcome.
Lucifer made a delighted sound at the back of his throat when Alastor cautiously gripped himself, circling long fingers around his flushed cock. And despite it being his own hand, his breathing hitched at the first brush of rough skin against the sensitive, leaking head.
He gripped himself harder and moaned.
When did he get so sensitive? It almost felt unbearable, each touch and caress sending a jolt of pure electricity through his veins. He stroked, working quickly to get himself off as fast and efficiently as he could. It wouldn’t take much; he was already too tightly wound, too far gone for any sort of finesse.
“Slow down. You’ll yank it off if you’re not careful.”
And with a frustrated growl, Alastor did as he was told. He eased his movements to be slower, with far gentler strokes. Barely anything, the ghost of a caress, that felt even worse than the previous roughness; it was maddening to feel his orgasm begin to hook behind his navel, a heavy heat building and spreading along his nerves, but not sending him over the edge.
“Oh fuck, you look good, putting on a show for me.” Lucifer said, snapping Alastor back to the moment. He opened his eyes, not realising that he’d closed them, and saw Lucifer watching him, stroking himself in time with Alastor’s own pace.
Alastor groaned, letting his head fall forward, curling in on himself as he stroked from root to tip. His dick was leaking pre-cum, slipping between his fingers as he rubbed and squeezed. His pace and touch were far too gentle to bring much relief to the ache he’d been feeling ever since Lucifer had kissed him, ever since he’s had his cock in his mouth; instead, it was building into something intense. Something deep, throbbing and almost painful.
“Yes. Like that. Good.”
As patronising as Lucifer’s tone was, Alastor flushed at the praise. His hips jerked forwards, and he felt a spike of pleasure surge through him. He hated that he was blushing. The heat it left in its wake was agonising, coiling through his body, and pulsing with each beat of his heart.
“Oh fuck. You look like you’re already getting pretty close.”
Alastor wanted to snap at him that of course he was; he was too long denied, too long holding on to the feeling of all-encompassing need. But he kept quiet, the only noises passing his lips being soft, suppressed noises of pleasure.
And he was feeling pleasure. Intensely. It was everywhere at once, every nerve alive with sensation as he chased that all-encompassing white-out of gratification. The surge of orgasm was already beginning deep within his belly, minute muscle spasms threatening to spill over into a wave of carnal desire.
As his orgasm began to crest, Alastor took deep, panting breaths, trying to convince himself that he wanted this, that this wasn’t like before when he was tied and bound, forced to endure whatever torment Lucifer had in store for him. This was all about getting even. And taking everything from Lucifer. And he wanted that.
He was close. He was so fucking close. He could feel himself rushing towards that hated precipice, all it would take is one more stroke, two-
“That’s enough. Stop.”
Alastor almost howled at the denial.
He snatched his hand away almost on reflex, and bit his lip as he tried to- what? Push himself over by sheer force of will, or drag himself back to somewhere far away. Both, either; anything but stay teetering on this damned precipice.
It was agony.
It was torture.
“And you’re telling me that you aren’t getting off on being told what to do? Right.”
The wave passed, and Alastor fought to get his breath. His blood was pounding in his ears, his vision dark at the edges. He brought a shaky hand up to his head, raking his fingers through his hair trying to ground himself. Fuck. How did Lucifer always manage to reduce him to this…?
Just a little longer. It won’t be long now. Lucifer’s soul would soon be in reach.
Even if it was a lie, it was something to focus on. Something to keep him here and his plan alive.
Alastor took a steadying breath and smiled, though he could feel the mania behind his grin. There was nothing but malice and blood-lust surging in his veins, now, his previous physical desire and misguided lust completely taken over by the need to take his satisfaction.
Release. Revenge.
He needed some sort of relief; else, he would surely go mad.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying continuing to torture me, sire,” he said, his voice full of barely contained rage and need. He sounded wrecked; he knew he did. A spring coiled so tightly with raw, unadulterated energy, about to lash out and destroy everything its path. “And that you’re having fun.”
And Lucifer had the audacity to look completely unbothered by it all. Smiling like he didn’t know the effect he was having on him; how close Alastor was to breaking… something. Whether it was his resolve or his mind was yet to be decided.
“Hmm? Well, I think we’d both be having more fun if you weren’t holding back on me.”
Alastor’s eyes shot wide open before he could catch himself. Alarm and panic shot shout him like an arrow, straight to his hindbrain. It effectively replaced his blood-lust, overrode his desire to dominate and take; in its wake was a predator-prey fear that burned up his spine and froze back on the way down.
He’d been discovered. His plan, found out. He’d suffered through all of this for naught. His time and opportunity, wasted.
He didn’t think he’d been that obvious.
He had to retreat. No, this was the time for damage control. Lucifer was a threat, and he was stuck in here with him. He had to fight, do something.
“Holding back?” he asked, swallowing his sudden anxiety. He shot him a bright, artificial grin, necessarily overcompensating the pure distress he felt in that moment. If he’d have had his cane with him, he would have had it play some tinny, artificial laughter to punctuate the point. “Whatever possesses you to think that, your highness?”
Lucifer laughed at him, incredulously.
“You- you’re kidding? You really want me to point out to you that I’ve noticed you’ve been acting fucking weird ever since I came here?”
Alastor kept his smile plastered in place as he shrugged. He didn’t move, didn’t shift from his awkward half-kneel on the bed, didn’t retreat or advance. He wasn’t sure he could. But he could at least try to look nonchalant. Unconcerned.
“With all due respect, your highness,” he said with forced conviviality, “you don’t know anything about me. You said so yourself.”
“Oh, that was then; this is now. I know you carnally. Biblically, one might say!” He laughed at his own joke, but he didn’t break eye contact and he laid out his challenge. “And I know that whenever our paths cross it takes you less than five minutes to challenge my authority. You even told me that you want me to submit to you. And – fuck Alastor, look at you! You look like you want to fuck my brains out, and yet you haven’t. So, it makes me wonder why, you know?”
“Are you not satisfied?” Alastor asked, incredulously. “I did what you asked!”
“Yeah, and that’s the problem, isn’t it. You’re never obedient unless you’re forced to be. And that made it fun, I’m not gonna lie – it was hilarious, and so fucking satisfying for me to put you in your place. Someone needed to, let me tell you! But that’s the point – you always fight me. You can’t help yourself. And now, suddenly, you’re not; it makes me think you’re up to something. Or something is going on that you’re keeping quiet about. Something that is important enough to make you Fucking. Hold. Back.”
He punctuated the point with an annoying tap on the tip of Alastor’s nose, infantilising and demeaning.
Alastor bristled, baring his teeth in a humourless, wide grin. How he wanted to bite those fingers! Lunch himself at Lucifer, violently, and show him exactly what he'd been keeping from him. But, he couldn't. Not without ruining everything. And so, he took an imperceptible breath before saying: “I assure you, there’s nothing of the sort.”
Lucifer looked disappointed; his face fell, and he twisted his mouth into a sneer. Then his eyes flickered to the side before fixing back on Alastor. His sneer turned into a grin, as smug and self-satisfied as it ever was.
“Do you remember when I told you that you need to work on your poker face?” he asked, conversationally. Alastor couldn’t help feeling a distinct prickle of warning needling across his spine, his instincts alerting him that he was in incredible danger. His ears were twitching back and forth, and he felt his heckles begin to rise.
“I recall.”
“Well, it’s because you have one hell of a tell.”
When Alastor looked at him blankly, Lucifer pointedly glanced over to the wall. Alastor turned his head to follow his gaze, and saw his shadow cast there.
To his dismay, it wasn’t what he expected it to be – whereas he was perfectly human, or as close to it as anyone was in Hell, his shadow reflected a massive, hulking echo of his true form. Jagged, black antlers bled into the cracks of the wall, long limbs filling every available space. It radiated malice and pure, unadulterated malevolence as it silently gnashed and snarled, huge teeth poised over the two of them on the bed, wanting nothing more than to be unleashed to cause harm.
Alastor slowly turned back to face Lucifer, his expression one of shock and alarm.
“I’ve been paying more attention to this guy ever since it gave me that little show last night,” Lucifer went on. “And what do you know? It tells me so much about you! Watch - any time I tease you, or make fun of you, it gets angrier, bigger; grows teeth and claws. Like you did yesterday, in the tower. Like you should be doing right now.”
The shadow paced along the wall, a caged beast wanting to be free, to maul its prey, to be allowed to eat. “It wants to hurt me so badly! And yet, you haven’t. This is your last chance to tell me why.”
“Is that what you want?” Alastor asked, almost incredulously. “You want me to attack you? To hurt you?”
“Well, no! Kinda! Yes! Fuck, I don’t know how to explain it - it’s just so entertaining when you try! You really get into it, you know? Like, there’s no holds barred, no restraint. When you really get going, and fuck me, you really get going! It’s everything. You just give in to it. You want to be in control of me so bad, and you just try to take it. And, fuck!”
Quick as a snake, Lucifer was on his knees, kneeling in front of Alastor so that they were practically nose to nose. His eyes were intently boring into Alastor’s own, keeping him pinned. “No one does that anymore! Do, do you have any idea how long it has been since someone has challenged me like you do? Since anyone has dared? And I want to know why you’ve suddenly stopped!”
Lucifer looked so earnest, so honest in his admission; this close, Alastor could see every unfiltered emotion, every desire in his heart laid bare. While it irked him to be described as someone’s entertainment, he saw the opportunity for what it was. Vulnerability took many forms, and this admission was a gift. Like any other denizen of Hell who wanted something, it was something Alastor could use.
He was very good at giving people what they wanted, and they always paid the price for it. Lucifer was no different.
“Are you sure you really want to know?” Alastor asked, bringing a hand up to cup Lucifer’s cheek. He noted, with interest, that Lucifer leaned into his touch. He traced his thumb over Lucifer’s lips, and Lucifer automatically pressed a kiss there in return. “Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”
“And satisfaction brought it back,” Lucifer retorted, scooting even closer. He was practically in Alastor’s lap. “Tell me. I don’t need- or want- another obedient, pandering sycophant in my life. What is it that is turning you into one?”
“Would you like me to show you?”
Lucifer nodded. That was all Alastor needed. The pact, of sorts, was made.
He leaned forward and kissed him. Lucifer’s lips were warm, and split slightly from the previous bites Alastor had bestowed upon him, and Alastor couldn’t help adding a few more. His tongue slid wetly past Lucifer’s sharp teeth, and licked into his mouth. Lucifer groaned, his eyes sliding closed in pleasure.
Alastor pushed him backwards, a little roughly, and Lucifer went easily to land among the duvet and pillows. He made soft, keening noises when Alastor’s hands caressed his skin, angled and positioned him just so, encouraged him to wrap his pale legs around Alastor’s waist.
Alastor gripped himself and spread Lucifer open; Hellish bodies really were wonderful, so accommodating. He penetrated him slowly, pressing into him as unstoppable as the tide, meeting no resistance. Lucifer was so tight, and blisteringly hot.
“Oh fuck yes! Alastor - yes!”
The intense desire from earlier came back with such force and intensity Alastor had to fight to not come there and then. He held himself still as Lucifer moaned and squirmed under him, unhelpfully encouraging him to thrust despite how precarious his grip on his orgasm.
When he had recovered enough to move, Alastor started with a slow, deep press into his body. Lucifer was compliant; giving himself to the pleasure that Alastor was kindly bestowing upon him. But Alastor knew what Lucifer wanted from him. He began to increase the pace, creating a faster, relentless rhythm. It was instinct, to move his hips to a rapid, staccato beat, punctuated by their heavy breathing and Lucifer’s moans.
Lucifer wrapped his arms around Alastor’s neck and all but lifted himself up and onto his cock, trying to control the depth of the thrusts. It didn’t help him in the slightest; Alastor just slammed him back into the mattress, pinning him there and driving himself even deeper and harder than before.
“None of that, your highness. It’s my turn.”
He brought forth his tentacles from his back, the four of them taking each of Lucifer’s limbs, and spreading them wide, allowing Alastor to thrust deeper, harder, unhindered.
“Ah! Ah, yes, fuck! Yes!”
Just as he was really driving himself into Lucifer, a light touch at the back of his thighs made him jump; Lucifer had wrapped his tail around his leg and was holding him tightly. He was using it to guide Alastor’s hips, encouraging him to thrust even faster. Alastor grinned and got back to the task at hand.
“This… this is more like it…” Lucifer groaned as Alastor bucked and pressed him into the mattress. “But you haven’t... oh fuck… told me what’s preoccupying you….”
Alastor moaned as he once again fought a wave of intense pleasure crashing over him. He really was holding on by a precarious thread, his resolve barely keeping him in check as his pleasure was so, so close-
Breathing heavily, he slowed his pace slightly to keep himself from tipping over the edge. He raised his head and looked Lucifer directly in his eyes.
“Well… if you must know... if you seriously want me to be the one to hurt you, your majesty, then I would be obliged.”
“Huh? Hahaha, what? What do you mean?” Lucifer laughed, but his laugh fell on a choked sound as Alastor placed one strong hand on his throat and squeezed.
Strangling someone really was an art, and Alastor was nothing if not an artist. He dug his claws into the Lucifer's neck and crushed his windpipe, simultaneously obstructing the blood going to his brain, and the air to his lungs. Lucifer bucked beneath him, trying to free his hands from the tentacle's grip but finding them impossibly trapped. He gasped, trying to get even the slightest thimbleful of air, his eyes rolling in his head as his brain became starved of blood and oxygen.
He didn't notice Alastor's other hand. It laid carefully on his chest, over his heart, and began to glow; an eerie golden light beginning to filter from Alastor's palm through his fingers.
Alastor laughed.
Lucifer’s eyes blew wide as the danger he was in was suddenly revealed. He tried to withdraw, push himself into the bedding, thrash his limbs, buck his hips; anything to get out of Alastor’s hold. It didn’t help him in the slightest. He was completely pinned, his limbs held securely by the tentacles, spreadeagling him on the bed, and Alastor, too, holding him down with a cruel hand at his throat, and another at his chest.
Even as he wriggled and writhed, Alastor was still deep inside him, continuing to thrust, driving them both closer to orgasm as a golden light began to fill the room.
“Ah, fuck, Alastor! Fuck! Stop! Stop!”
Alastor let go of his neck and wrapped his hand around Lucifer’s cock, stroking him as they both neared the brink. Lucifer canted up into his hand, unprepared for the dual onslaught of Alastor’s cock deep in his ass and his hand stroking him with an equally relentless pace.
Alastor came first. With a satisfied groan, he buried himself to the hilt, and emptied deep into Lucifer, riding the release that had so long been denied to him. It was everything he wanted. Everything he needed. His vision all but whited out, his blood pounding in his ears as he was finally able to take what was owed to him. His hips were moving of their own accord as he came, his body trembling with the intensity of it all.
His pleasure was made all the sweeter that his orgasm echoed back to Lucifer. He cried out with a strangled moan, still begging him to stop even as he came. He was so loud, shameless as he painfully crashed over the edge.
And before it was over Alastor curled his fingers around the golden light and pulled.
“No! Please!”
Lucifer’s soul, as ethereal as star-fire and as solid as a dream, shifted and formed a thin wisp as it was pulled from his body. It curled from his heart and coiled around Alastor’s fingers, delicate and silky as smoke, but as bright and volatile as an explosion. It was painful to even look at, and as soon as Alastor touched it, it burned in his hand with an intense agony, comparable to the moment of his own death.
Lucifer went pale, his usually lustrous skin turning a dull grey as he could do nothing but watch. His orgasm hadn’t fully subsided, his body still trembling as he became suspended, trapped in an eternal, torturous moment.
Alastor smiled, wider, wider, until his face completely split apart, his mouth pulled into an impossible grin as his lips tore and his teeth lengthened into jagged fangs. Blood and saliva dribbled down his chin as his face contorted into something monstrous, his eyes a malicious red, radio dials ticking with the beat of his heart.
He’d done it. All the power of Hell, in his hand. He’d won.
“Alastor – please-- ah!” Lucifer pleaded weakly, but whatever he was about to say ended on a moan as he fought against a relentless wave of pleasure. Alastor laughed at him, bestial and low, radiating cruelty and malice. “Please s-stop this!”
Alastor cast a disinterested glance at him, sardonically raising his eyebrow. Lucifer’s limbs were still held in his tentacles’ grasp, but, really, pinning him was just for show at this point. It wasn’t as though he could move in any meaningful way; all of his efforts of movement were solely focused on enduring the cruelty Alastor was subjecting him to.
“What’s that, your highness? Did you say something?”
Lucifer’s reply broke with a pained wail. It really was music to Alastor’s ears. The sight of him, sobbing, crying, and through it all, coming; it was everything he wanted. Lucifer was finally his.
“Ah- ah-- it hurts, Alastor--- ah!”
Yet another orgasm crashed through him. His muscles tensed, were pulled so tight that they risked snapping against their own tension. His dick was leaking cum, coating his belly, and sliding down his waist to pool on the sheets.
“Well, if you insist on being incoherent, I can’t help you.”
“Please… please – ah!” Lucifer shuddered, his eyes rolling the back of his head, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Alastor could feel him twitching where their bodies joined, Lucifer’s muscles clenching around his dick as he convulsed in pleasure. Fuck, it was enough to get him hard again.
“Please? ‘Please’ what?” he asked, leaning over him, so that his grinning face was all that Lucifer could see. “’Please stop?’ Why would I do that? I finally have you where I want you.”
Lucifer shook his head in disbelief, his eyes wide and his pupils blown wide as he stared into Alastor’s face. For the first time since Alastor had known him, he looked afraid, and it sent a jolt of electricity straight to his cock. He lived for people looking at him like that, relished that look of terrified realisation when they finally understood just what he was capable of.
He smiled, stroking Lucifer’s cheek, patronisingly smearing the freshly-formed tears across his ashen skin. “How many times did I warn you not to underestimate me? And yet, you did. Persistently! And now you’ll pay the price: your soul is mine.”
“No… I… no…! Please no!”
Alastor could feel the distinct ache of arousal begin to rise in his belly. Holding so tightly onto the soul hurt, but it was nothing compared to the delight of watching Lucifer beg; the combination of pain and pleasure was making his head spin and his body respond with pure desire.
“I have many souls in my possession; most are screaming, some are weeping. But I don’t have any that are coming undone; in that regard your majesty, you are a first! This will be all you ever feel ever again.” He punctuated his point with a cant of his hips, and Lucifer cried out in response, his dick sending yet another thin stream of cum to coat his stomach. “Wouldn’t that make for entertaining listening!?”
Alastor drove his cock deeper with a punishing rhythm. Lucifer recoiled, screwing his eyes closed as he tried to endure, tried not to become so completely overwhelmed by the agonising sensation. He wasn't successful.
“Al…Alastor…” His voice was raw, tears streaming down his cheeks. His cock was unbearably hard, red to the point of turning a deep, angry purple, his testicles drawn painfully tight against his body. "I can't... please stop this...ah!
Alastor grinned cruelly. With his free had he grabbed Lucifer’s dick, gripping it firmly at the base. He stroked and teased, knowing that even the slightest movement would be amplified tenfold and add to the onslaught Lucifer was being forced to suffer. And as expected, Lucifer flinched and succumbed once more, a violent shiver making his muscle tense and spasm.
“There you go again! Oh, that does look painful. Would you like me to take pity on you-”
“Yes! Fuck, Alastor, I can’t…” Lucifer moaned, his jaw locking as he clenched his teeth, his face pinched and gaunt with the pain.
“-and devour your soul, instead?”
Thoroughly enjoying Lucifer’s tortured expression Alastor licked his lips and brought the soul to his teeth, readying that all important bite. It was all for show, a bit of drama that had the desired effect when Lucifer’s entire body jolted in panic.
Holding Lucifer’s soul this close to his face, he could feel the promise of pain; the soul’s essence ready burn everything it touched. Devouring it would be hellish– it seemed anything angelic had a particularly profound effect on his body- but it would be worth it.
“N-no! Please no! Ah! FuckFuckFuck!”
“No? You’d rather stay like this? Trapped in this moment for all eternity? Well, I suppose one could see it as the lesser of two evils. Though, I wonder how long it will take for you to regret that decision… eternity is a very, very long time….”
To Alastor’s surprise Lucifer managed to slip a hand free from the tentacle’s grasp. He blindly grabbed Alastor’s wrist - the one keeping hold of the soul - and squeezed with a surprising amount of strength. Alastor swore he could feel the bones grinding against each other as Lucifer’s knuckles turned white.
“Alastor! What do you want? I’ll- I’ll give you anything. Please stop!”
“What’s this?” Alastor laughed, hiding his brief surprise that Lucifer was able to do even this much. He wasn’t supposed to be able to move, never mind grab. He decisively pulled his hand away, out of Lucifer’s grasp. “Am I hearing you correctly? You want to deal with me? I thought such an act was beneath you, sire.”
“Yes! Please, I’ll give you anything! Fuck! A-Anything in my power is yours. AH! Please!”
“But you have nothing I want - I already have your soul, what else could you offer me?”
“Anything! Anything… ah!”
Alastor smirked at him as Lucifer’s body jerked and shuddered. He looked at the soul in his hand. He knew he should devour it, really, and take all of Lucifer’s power for his own; or break it, play Lucifer’s moans on the radio for all to hear. What a message that would send to every single denizen in Hell!
Hell had a new King; the Radio Demon was now pulling all the strings.
But… trouble would follow. He knew it would. Whether he broke Lucifer’s soul or devoured it, it would set a dangerous precedence. He would be living proof that it was possible for a sinner to topple even the oldest custodians of Hell’s circles. That the hierarchy meant nothing. That anyone was fair game.
And if he was able to kill Lucifer, then it would be possible for anyone to kill him.
Even in his victory, drunk on the power and cruelty he was exerting, the part of him very keen on self-preservation kicked in. He would be effectively painting a bright target red on his back. Oh, he wasn’t particularly concerned about the arrogant individuals that usually thought they could take him down – they would likely cower in fear from his newfound prowess, or challenge him and meet the same fate as all the other souls he had in his reliquary. But the smarter sinners would undoubtedly organise, and the older, established Overlords certainly wouldn’t stand for such a sudden change in Hell’s power structure.
Then, there was also the problem of… her. What if word reached her ears, that he’d killed her estranged husband, taken his power and throne and was ruling Hell in his stead? Once she knew that he had unclipped his wings and he had no intention of honouring his side of their bargain, that he was free from her control, she would surely come calling to take what he had promised…
And did he really want that? Spend the however-many-hundred years fighting to keep the power he was this close to taking? If only there was a way to have his cake and eat it; to keep publicly playing his current hand of having Charlie as his ace, and keep this opportunity secret, distinctly in his pocket until he was ready-
He turned back to face Lucifer, a plan rapidly forming behind his eyes.
“Hmm, well…” he said, pretending to genuinely think about it. “How about this: in exchange for returning your soul to you, you will answer any and all favours I ask of you. No exceptions. For eternity.”
“What?!” Lucifer visibly balked at the offer, though it was hard to tell if the shudder was of revulsion or pleasure; a moment later he trembled and came again. Alastor grinned at him, perfunctorily jerking his hips just to see Lucifer’s expression crumple and another spurt of cum land on his belly.
“So, what will it be? I can give you some time to think, if you like? Though I hardly feel as though you have the ability at the moment. It’s tough, isn’t it? Oh, there you go again. What’s the number, now? I’ve lost count.”
“Fuck – oh!” Lucifer groaned, screwing his eyes closed and biting his lip to the point he drew blood.
“Again? You are so sensitive, your highness. Would this be easier if I withdrew?” Alastor gave one last thrust – effectively sending Lucifer crashing into yet another painful orgasm – and pulled out. Lucifer’s asshole twitched, wanting to be filled.
“Fuck! Oh my god,” Lucifer groaned, limbs landing bonelessly onto the mattress. To his dismay, even without Alastor being deep inside him, his pleasure didn’t dissipate. His muscles didn’t relax, the tightly wound coil of arousal in his gut didn’t grant him any relief.
“So what is your answer?” Alastor asked. He ran a long claw slowly over the length of Lucifer’s cock, and was amused when it twitched and thin streams of cum started leaking from the tip. Lucifer’s mouth fell open on yet another silent cry.
Alastor leaned down, putting his ear closer to Lucifer’s mouth. “What was that? I didn’t catch what you said.”
“Y-ye-yes! Yes!”
“Mmm. Lovely.”
Alastor grabbed Lucifer’s slim hips with his clawed hands, lined himself up, and thrust; hard and deep into Lucifer’s waiting, quivering asshole. He didn’t start slow, didn’t build up to it – he began with a punishing pace, slamming deep, and hard as he could. Lucifer cried and sobbed around him; he’d gone far beyond pleasure at this point, and only pain was left.
As Alastor hammered his hips, once again driving Lucifer into yet another torturous orgasm, he jammed his soul back into his chest with so much force that Lucifer jolted against the mattress. The relief he felt must have been nothing short of overwhelming; the effect was instantaneous. Lucifer clenched around him, letting out an almost guttural scream, curling his body around his core.
Alastor let go of Lucifer’s limbs, withdrawing his tentacles into himself as he focused on chasing his own pleasure. And to his surprise, Lucifer reached for him as soon as he was able, wrapping his hands around Alastor’s neck and pulling himself up to press into Alastor’s body, clinging on to him for dear life.
Alastor didn’t last much longer. He couldn’t hold on, couldn’t hold back the tremors pulsing low in his belly. With one final thrust he came. He groaned as he rode the pleasure, hips stuttering and faltering as his pleasure ebbed and flowed, finally feeling the satisfaction that had been owed to him ever since he and Lucifer first met.
With a satisfied groan, he all but collapsed onto Lucifer’s limp body, almost smothering him he fought to get his breathing and heartbeat back under control. Lucifer was still holding onto him, touching him in as many places as he could; legs to hips to shoulder. His hands frantically slid down Alastor’s sweat-slicked back, pulling him into a close embrace as he buried his face into Alastor’s neck.
Oh yes; the devil loved to cuddle. Alastor had briefly forgotten this little – and slightly irritating- detail.
But; there was no harm to indulging him. Not when Alastor had Lucifer at his beck and call for eternity, the King of Hell was his. Like so many sinners who came before him, Lucifer was going to find out just what it meant to owe to the Radio Demon. Unlike the others who were paying off mere frivolities, Lucifer owed Alastor his very life. So, Alastor let him settle, let Lucifer position him where he wanted him, until they were both in an -admittedly, far more- comfortable position among the stained and damp sheets.
Lucifer bore the worst aftereffects of their activities; he was covered in sweat, tears and rapidly-dying cum – both his own and Alastor’s - but in that moment, he didn’t seem to notice, or care. He was still clinging to Alastor, as though he was fearful to what would happen if he let him go. His breathing was ragged, wet and hot, and Alastor could feel his heart kicking against his chest like a delicate, fluttering bird.
Though he couldn’t explain precisely why, he returned the embrace, resting his hand on Lucifer’s side, pulling him close. Possessive. Greedy.
Lucifer sighed with an emotion approaching contentment. Or relief. It was hard to tell.
“You’re a cruel man, Alastor,” Lucifer muttered against Alastor’s skin, his voice so torn and rough with his tears. It was so quiet that Alastor wasn’t sure that he was supposed to hear it.
“I have been known for it, yes.”
“You could have killed me. I told you to not hold back and…” he trailed off, searching for the words to say. “Fuck. I don’t know. Why didn’t you?”
Alastor hummed, a non-committal sound in his throat. He glanced down and saw Lucifer watching him, intently, through red-rimmed eyes brimming with some unknown emotion.
“I have my reasons. Do you want me to change my mind?”
Lucifer didn’t answer, but there was a wet sound from his throat that may have been a laugh or it may have been a sob. Alastor couldn’t tell which, but it didn’t matter. Their fates were entwined; he had all the time in the world to find out.