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For all of Alastor’s carefully curated image of propriety, Lucifer finds out fairly quickly that Alastor is a nosy fuck, actually.
Lucifer has gotten so used to it that he barely notices Alastor’s shadows rummaging through his drawers anymore. Their rustling is background noise as he and Alastor take their evening nightcap in his room, seated in front of the gently crackling fireplace. He’s still not quite sure if the shadows are sentient and doing it independently of Alastor’s commands or if he’s controlling their every move, but they report their findings to him regardless.
After all this time, Lucifer is surprised that there’s still anything for them to find, but they do. An old photograph, one buried so deep in one of the books on his bookshelf that he’d forgotten that it was there.
He only knows which one it is based on the way Alastor’s face freezes and static fills the room.
“You alright there, Al?”
The white noise in the room disappears with a zip, but Alastor’s smile remains tight.
Lucifer hides his frown in his cup. He refuses to be embarrassed by this. He knows what’s in that photograph: him, seven months pregnant, smiling softly at his belly and his beautiful baby inside it. There’s nothing to be embarrassed of.
Finally, Alastor speaks.
“Apologies,” he says jovially, lowering the photograph even as he can’t seem to take his eyes off of it. His voice is the loud performance that he uses in public. Lucifer isn’t sure why he bothers; they’ve been doing…whatever they’ve been doing for long enough now that the act is transparent. “I wasn’t aware that you could carry children. It’s not exactly common in this circle of Hell.”
“You’ve seen me shapeshift before,” Lucifer says with a laugh. Most of his interactions in Hell have been with hellborne; it’s always amusing to see the different reactions between them and sinners regarding Charlie’s birth. “Creating a womb is…practically subconscious. My body did it before I was aware of what I was doing and then, well, you know what happened there.”
Alastor finally looks at him, gaze sharp. His fingers crease the edge of the photograph. It’s unnerving, his teeth bared in a smile that is more vicious than Lucifer has seen in a long time. “A harmonious coincidence then. That your partner was the mother of monsters.”
Part of Lucifer bristles at the accusation that he’s certain Alastor hadn’t intended to make.
“Her power didn’t have anything to do with it.” Not unless he counts her ability to shapeshift like he can, and Lucifer doesn’t. Having a cock isn’t exactly a rare commodity in hell. “We had a baby because I’m the lightbringer,” he says with no small amount of pride.
Charlie wouldn’t be Charlie without Lilith, but there wouldn’t have been a baby at all without Lucifer.
In fact—
“Good thing you’re not exactly interested in that kind of sex. If we weren’t careful we’d have a bundle of kids running around sooner rather than later.”
The room explodes in the scratch of a radio between stations, Alastor’s shadow filling up the entirety of the wall behind him as his eyes turn black. And then, just as abruptly, it all disappears like it never happened, and Alastor sets his cup down with purpose.
”What a fascinating idea.”
“Wait, wait, we can’t—”
Who the fuck is he kidding? Lucifer has wanted this for nearly a year now.
Alastor runs his tongue along his neck and it makes him shiver all the way down to his toes. His voice, crooning directly into the shell of Lucifer’s ear, is dripping in static. “Oh, but we can.”
And then Alastor grabs him by the jaw and kisses him, deep and messy and just as overwhelming as the other times Alastor is in the rare mood to cater to Lucifer’s needs.
“Okay,” he concedes breathlessly as Alastor returns to his neck so that he can scrape his teeth along the thin skin. “Okay, yes, let’s—”
“Delightful,” Alastor rumbles, hands suddenly at Lucifer’s waistband. It’s only when he peels them off, fingertips trailing along the newly bared skin, that he realizes Alastor has already taken his gloves off.
Alastor starts to strip him of his vest and undershirt next and the feel of his ungloved fingers makes Lucifer’s breath catch. For the first time since they’ve started sleeping together, he’s nervous, so he starts talking. “So, uh, where is this coming from? You never said anything about a breeding kink before.”
Lucifer would’ve indulged him way fucking earlier if he had.
He’s read a book or two or seventy to try to flesh out what little Alastor will tell him about his own sexuality (what he initially took as lack of trust and soon realized to be lack of knowledge on Alastor’s part) and he knew tangentially that kink could be…a thing. And kink and sex didn’t always overlap, which Lucifer had understood far too well, but he had thought that if Alastor had any kinks they would be more along the lines of BDSM, a little vore maybe, not—well.
Maybe he should have known. Alastor was a possessive fucker after all, any pet name he dropped always had my attached to the front, a constant reminder that his love comes with possession. It makes sense that he’d want to own one more part of Lucifer’s body.
Alastor fucking him with his own flesh and blood cock isn’t necessary for Lucifer to be happy; and he means it, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to enjoy the hell out of it.
“An unecessarily vulgar way of saying that I want you to carry our child,” Alastor says dryly, leaning back far enough to shrug off his own coat in a move that really has no right looking as practiced as it does. His eyes are black as pitch.
It should be unnerving, how Alastor looks at him with deranged hunger, but it’s not. Not when the only thing separating their bodies is Alastor’s crisp shirt and the sweat beading Lucifer’s skin.
“Yeah, you’re right. Doesn’t matter,” Lucifer says, pulling Alastor back down for a kiss.
Wrapping his legs around Alastor’s waist feels lewd without his coat in the way, no matter how many times Lucifer has done it before. It’s different from how he usually exposes himself, spread wide so that Alastor can coax an orgasm out of him with only his hands and a devilish grin compared to now, when Alastor’s own cock is getting involved for once. At the first feel of it, hard and thick and poking out of Alastor’s open trousers, Lucifer whimpers.
Lucifer wants that cock in his mouth. He’s always been a giver and it’s been driving him crazy to not have anything to give that Alastor actually wants in the bedroom.
But now he can.
“Al. Alastor,” he says against his lips. “Put a baby in me.”
Lucifer feels embarrassed for half a second until all of the lights blow out and they’re encased in darkness, the only light coming from the radio dials of Alastor’s pupils. When he speaks, there’s nothing human left about it.
“Oh, I will.”
Lucifer knows that his lack of fear used to bother Alastor, but it comes in handy now, when Alastor looks like a creature out of nightmares and Lucifer still wants Alastor to fuck him raw.
In a subconscious response to the threat Alastor makes, Lucifer can feel his body start to take its demonic shape as well. The fire between his horns illuminates them just enough, a hellish form of candlelit romance.
“Do you need to shift now?”
Lucifer’s head is just fuzzy enough with arousal that it takes him a moment to realize that Alastor is looking between his legs where his hard cock stands at attention. Right.
“Oh. Uh. I can. If you’d prefer—”
“The shape of your genitalia does not concern me,” Alastor dismisses, rising to place a hand on Lucifer’s chest. “If I fuck you as you are now, will it take?”
It could. He’d gotten pregnant the first time the way he is now, cock and all. But that had been an accident more than anything. He hadn’t known that he’d made a womb until he’d felt Charlie in it. He can’t risk not getting pregnant, not if this is the only chance he’ll ever get.
He shifts.
His arousal feels different like this. Deeper, more all-encompassing, heat spreading to the rest of his body in a heady pulse, but focused even more intensely between his legs. In his cunt.
He’s already dripping.
Lucifer can already feel his breath coming faster and the way Alastor still has that ravenous look on his face only makes him throb more.
Then Alastor slides his fingers into him and he has to hold back a scream.
“Al, shit,” he gasps, clasping a hand around Alastor’s wrist. “You don’t have to prep me when I’m like this, promise. I’m good to go.”
Understatement of the century. He’s fucking throbbing. Clenching around Alastor’s fingers like he wants to suck them in even farther, deep enough to keep him there for hours. And his fingers won’t be there that long, but maybe his cock will. Maybe it’ll be a real breeding session, filled with come over and over until it drips out with each thrust.
“I mean it,” Lucifer rushes to say as his cunt clenches around Alastor’s still fingers. “I’m gonna come if you don’t pull out.”
Alastor tilts his head curiously, grin sharpening, and Lucifer wants to smack himself for saying that to a sadistic prick like Alastor, but Alastor only slides his fingers out and braces himself above him. Lucifer gasps when he feels Alastor’s cock, somehow feeling even more molten than the skin between his own legs.
“Far be it from me to prevent you from reaching climax. I’ve heard it helps one conceive.”
Lucifer nearly rolls his eyes and Alastor takes the distraction to slide into him, relentless and determined.
Fuck, he can count the number of times he’s had sex like this on one hand, but he doesn’t think he will ever get used to this part, the thick pressure of a cock spreading his cunt wide. When Lucifer speaks next, his voice comes out breathier than he wants. “I’m pretty sure that’s an old wives’ tale.”
Alastor, as fond of words as he is and so used to using them as his primary weapon whenever he has Lucifer under his hands, talks dirty like he fucks six times a day. “Regardless, we aren’t stopping until I’ve finished filling up that lovely new cunt of yours.”
“You have to shut up,” Lucifer says, pressing a hand over Alastor's filthy mouth.
Alastor raises an eyebrow, looking down at Lucifer’s hand pointedly. His teeth scrape the palm of his hand in what is probably meant to be a warning, but all it does is send sparks down Lucifer’s body until they settle brightly in his stomach.
Lucifer lets go.
“You’d rather I be silent? You’re usually so fond of knowing that I’m still enjoying myself.”
“Yeah, that’s only when I can’t feel your dick rearranging my guts,” Lucifer snaps, flushing as his traitorous cunt clenches at his own words. For once in his life, he wants Alastor to stop scrutinizing him. “I want this to last.”
If he comes now, he’s going to feel it for weeks, the tense, worn-out feeling between his legs that he had almost forgotten feels as good as it does and Alastor hasn’t even done anything more than slide inside him and sit there.
“Is it so different?” Alastor asks, tone curious. “You typically take it quite well.”
Still hot, even when he’s not trying to be. Fucker.
“You’re finally fucking me after months and you’re wondering if it’s different than your fingers? Yeah, well,” he gasps as Alastor finally moves, a deep thrust that sends sparks up his spine. Lucifer’s hands come up to wrap around Alastor’s shoulders reflexively. “It’s different. It’s different, fuck. Trust me.”
He’s scoring marks across Alastor’s skin with his claws and he can’t even feel slightly bad about it, not when the feeling of Alastor’s flesh tearing is the only thing keeping Lucifer from flying apart.
Alastor wouldn’t stop even if Lucifer came, he said as much before, (that’s—that’s the point) and Lucifer is so overwhelmed already that he doesn’t know if he’d be able to handle being fucked once he’s over-sensitive and squirming.
He’s almost there already, the sound of Alastor’s cock plunging in and out of his wet cunt driving him just as wild as the action itself.
They’re going to…Alastor really is going to get him pregnant.
“Maybe we should—maybe we should talk about family planning or something,” Lucifer says, suddenly panicked. “A baby is—I’m not exactly father of the year.”
“Lucifer,” Alastor says, the sound of his name shocking him enough that Lucifer’s heart rate stutters back to normal. “The family plan is to expand our current one.”
And that’s…that’s so much more than Lucifer had ever imagined Alastor saying to him. Not even in his wildest, most self-indulgent fantasies had he thought Alastor considered him and Charlie to be family.
“Okay,” he says, burying his face into Alastor’s neck to hide the no doubt loving look written all over it. “I want that too.”
His tail twines itself around Alastor’s forearm, a revealing motion, but one that he doesn’t want to prevent.
Then Alastor hooks his knee over an elbow, and his spindly, too-long demonic body stretches Lucifer’s hips wide and suddenly it’s sweltering again, his cunt spread open around Alastor’s cock, and Lucifer doesn’t have room to think about anything other than how much he needs to come.
He reaches a hand down to rub at his clit, cursing when Alastor’s next thrust makes his fingers slip off of it.
He's so wet that it’s made everything between his legs slick and messy and Lucifer whines at how it makes his fingers slide clumsily over where he needs to be touched.
“Alastor,” Lucifer whines, frustrated. He wants to command Alastor to make him come, to touch his clit with dangerous, sharp claws until pleasure overwhelms him. Trying to command Alastor is a fool’s errand though. If Lucifer tries, it’s more likely that Alastor would keep them both on the precipice for hours just out of spite alone.
“You’ll look lovely once I’m done with you,” Alastor says, except his voice seems to reverberate from the room itself instead of the grinning mouth next to Lucifer’s horns. One of his hands moves to rest on Lucifer’s heaving stomach, just above where Lucifer really wants him. “Just as you did while pregnant with Charlie. Except this time the child growing in you will be mine.”
Alastor punctuates that statement with a thumb to Lucifer’s clit, or maybe it’s another one of his sentient shadows, but it doesn’t matter because whatever it is starts a thorough, unerring rhythm that sends sparks through Lucifer’s bloodstream.
His cunt clenches around Alastor’s cock, tighter and tighter as his pleasure rises, as he’s arcing off of the mattress to chase the sensation, chest pressing into Alastor’s while his head bows back into the pillows.
”And once you’ve had one, I’ll put another in you,” Alastor continues savagely. “And then another. And another. I’ll breed you for the rest of eternity.”
Lucifer’s orgasm hits him harder than anything he has ever felt in his life and he cries out Alastor’s name so loudly that he sends a desperate note of thanks that his room is in one of the farthest towers of the hotel from the other residents.
Alastor’s teeth sink into his shoulder and it is either the taste of his blood or simply the fact that he was waiting for Lucifer to come first, but he finishes in nearly the next moment. The sting of his teeth is the most familiar thing about this entire fever-dream of an evening and Lucifer lets his head loll against Alastor’s as he comes back to his body.
Alastor’s cock, buried as deep into Lucifer as it can be as it pulses out come, makes his cunt ache happily. Lucifer could lie here all night.
As soon as he has that thought, Alastor pulls out, his come following the retreat of his cock, wet and foreign. Lucifer can feel himself start to glow golden with pleased bashfulness.
Fuck there’s—there’s so much of it. It feels like it’s dripping out of him, searching for somewhere to go that isn’t his own overstuffed hole. Alastor doesn’t come often. It feels like he’s done it five times over.
Lucifer cracks his eyes open; they feel heavy, just like every single one of his limbs.
Alastor is looking between his legs, that same hungry look he’s worn all night on his face. He licks his lips and Lucifer shudders.
Alastor wouldn’t eat him out now, not when the whole point is to have Lucifer full of his come, but he sure looks like he wants to.
“When will you know if it takes?” Alastor asks, hand spreading over Lucifer’s belly like he’ll be able to feel the child inside.
“Soon,” he says, trying not to sound as breathless as he feels. “Probably.”
He knew right away with Charlie, could feel the tiny light of her soul form before the sweat had dried on his skin. He wants that now. Wants to give Alastor that confirmation that they’d created something together that would tie them together for the rest of eternity.
Right now, Lucifer feels nothing and the thought terrifies him. He clasps his hands over the one Alastor has around his stomach, desperately trying to coax something to happen.
The moment their fingers entwine, he feels it; the spark of a new soul starting to coalesce in his womb, something so similar to what he had felt only once before and yet so different. Something unique. Someone new.
The awe on his face must be obvious as his hands clutch at Alastor’s own. Lucifer lifts his shoulders up to get a better look at his stomach even though there’s nothing to see. Not yet.
Alastor leans in like a predator, his other hand hovering. “Already?”
Lucifer’s face splits in a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, already.”
Alastor places his other hand above Lucifer’s, possessive, wanting, and they’re all tangled together, all bound around the little life starting to grow inside of him. When Alastor speaks, his voice elicits shivers.
“My lightbringer.”