Archive of Our Own ^beta

There was—not to put it too lightly—a lot of blood.

But that wasn't a strange occurrence for Lucifer, especially recently with the influx of threats he and Alastor "took care of". The only thing was that while it splattered like a Jackson Pollock across the bricks and ground of the unimportant Pentagram City alleyway, it also happened to get all over the button down Lucifer had just bought for Alastor. The white button down.

But while that shirt held a bucket of a—now very dead—sinner's blood within it, the way it held flush, sticking to Alastor's pecks was a gift. How could Lucifer not take advantage of the perfect opportunity to dip their toes back into a more punishingly rewarding side of their sex life? Not that they needed an excuse to break out the harder stuff, but Lucifer had his sights on something more natural and that shirt was irresistible to use as leverage.

Alastor walked closer. His tall, imposing facade offered away as the sinner fell to his knees in front of him, hands falling lifelessly to his lap. His shirtsleeves had been uselessly rolled up, as if there was any avoiding the ocean of blood that poured over him, for the second that sinner's jugular met its satisfying severance and the moments after of ripping them to shreds, there was no hope of unstained sleeves.

His deep, venetian eyes stared up at Lucifer, that smile dripped with blood and cocked to one side, a knowing message addressed to Lucifer's pride in him.

Lucifer did his best to keep a slightly unimpressed expression as he reached a hand down to stroke Alastor's ear. Though Alastor's hands, shirt, and pants were not so lucky, his head evaded most of the blood shower. Most. His face hadn't been spared either, splashed across the smile like a feeble attempt at silencing him. Still, his hair and, more specifically, his ears were a safe place for Lucifer to scratch with his jacket sleeve rolled down. He wasn't too fond of getting his own things stained, though he was becoming less caring of that as the night progressed. Cleaning was as easy as a snap of fingers after all, but playing the part of a disappointed king was too fun to play against his royal executioner.

Alastor leaned into the touch, pushing Lucifer's fingers deeper into his hair, begging for a scratch that Lucifer gave in a force of habit. Those red eyes closed, a small, relaxing moan vibrated from his throat as he exhaled. The winding down after a kill was routine, but always kept short, like the pause between heart beats. This time being no different, that next beat was pushing eagerly against the constraint of Lucifer's underwear.

It was rather typical for the two of them to be so aroused after a kill. Sourced for Lucifer in part from the rush of knowing there was one less sinner destined to destroy the hotel and/or his family. Another part from having such an attractive and obedient executioner to happily carry out his bidding not just with haste, but with…Elegance? Fluidity? A certain je ne sais quoi, really.

He could watch Alastor tear apart and destroy sinners for hours if it weren't for the insatiable lust it elicited every time, demanding attention immediately after. There was nothing more attractive than that crimson deer stained even redder by the blood of holier-than-thou sinners who laid wasted to the ground around him. Sinners who dared to see how far the King of Hell and Alastor would go, as if it'd be some sort of surprise.

Alastor was always more than willing to oblige. He dove head-first into the deal with Lucifer—a pleasantly met expectation—and there hadn't been a moment of disappointment throughout it all. It was no secret between them that Alastor's ice cream sundae was the rush from freely killing and destroying sinners, providing fresh screams for his broadcast, and a horny Lucifer was the cherry on top. Truly, Lucifer's lust and blood lust was second only to Alastor's. He had a feeling Asmodeus and Satan would be equally proud.

Lucifer shuddered out a breath, attention pulled to the peripheral beyond to see the lifeless corpse of a now unimportant nobody who's insides turned to outsides in a matter of seconds after Lucifer commanded it so.

He returned his focus to the deer. He was already planning to summon a portal behind his willing executioner and fuck him until the day broke anew. Something had to be done about this erection forming below him and he knew right where he wanted it, it was the setting he needed to decide.

His own room was an option, but it was one thing for Alastor to get blood on his clothes—and let's face it, at this point Lucifer had accepted it was going to be all over his own too—but it was another to get it all over Lucifer's sheets, bed frame, carpet, curtains, stairs, windows, balcony, ceiling—look, they had their fun. But not noticing the red hand print on the window until Charlie pointed it out a week later and then subsequently having to explain the source of such was the most uncomfortable five minutes of his life. And with the copious amount of blood this time around, a more containable location seemed appropriate.

He rubbed his thumb into the cartilage, feeling it twitch between his fingers. He almost completely lost his thoughts to the memory of gripping it the night prior after bending him over his desk, ramming into him until the dawning sun shone through the windows, but he refocused. The press of his cock against his pants was getting more uncomfortable by the second, drops of come seeping into the soft fabric, and those eyes cut up a glare that was only making it worse. Certainly to egg him on, but damn him again if Lucifer claimed it never worked.

Alastor's bayou it was. Much easier to contain and there was probably already blood on the grass, so not like Alastor would mind.

Lucifer smirked, mentally summoning his signature red and gold swirling portal to open behind Alastor. The smell of rotting tree and mossy water emanated from it while the blue tint of bayou shone through, an angled column of twilight in the dark alley.

Alastor's blood drenched smile widened as he gripped the ends of Lucifer's jacket with his stained hands.

Lucifer tilted his head, hat shifting in weight above him as he looked at the absolute mess Alastor made of his freshly pressed jacket.

He clicked his tongue and glared. "Hmm, you're gonna pay for that." He playfully scorned.

Alastor squinted, whispering up at him. "Ohhh, I'm counting on it."

Lucifer chuckled, placing his boot on Alastor's sternum, forcing him back with one thorough kick that left a perfect imprint of his boot in the bloody shirt. Alastor released the jacket, flying through the portal with no resistance and landing on the soft grass within.

Lucifer removed his hat, throwing it like a frisbee into the bayou over Alastor's head, landing a short distance from him. He lunged through the portal, closing it quickly behind as he straddled the sinner, minding the fact it was now him getting the blood on his clothes.

There was a difference, okay?

He gripped his face, pressing rigorous, forceful kisses into those smiling lips. The iron taste of blood mixed with their spit, passing between them both and smearing across Lucifer's face.

Alastor's hands found their way between Lucifer's jacket and shirt, no doubt spreading blood into the fabric of both. Oh, he was certainly looking for trouble with that little move.

Lucifer sat up, pressing his pelvis into him. The feeling of Alastor's cock harden against him sent a ripple of pleasure up his spine and over his shoulders, playing at the little sub-dimensional portals of his wings.

He redirected his attention to the jacket, pulling it off his arms. "My, my, Bambi." He held it open to the side, shaking his head. "Look what you've done now." It's white tails were streaked haphazardly with red stains, the inside looked relatively fine, already being red helping there, but still noticeable when you knew to look. "Tsk, tsk. That just won't do. My guess is my vest's not any better?"

"Oh, we must take a closer look." His eyes squinted in agreeance.

"We must." Lucifer really upped the condescension.

If murder was their version of fore-play, then play-acting was third base.

He threw his jacket to the side and pulled off the vest, taking a good long look at it while slightly humping his hips over Alastor's crotch over and over. His erection was painfully pushing against his pants on every hump, but it was worth it to see the twist on Alastor's face.

"You've certainly done it tonight. Quick—" He switched the vest to face Alastor, taunting him. "—what image do you see in the splotches?"

He rolled his hips harder and slower over the sinner. Alastor seethed a breath through his teeth, breaking it off with a groan. His hands gripped the now bloody grass beside them, ripping the weak strands straight from the ground as Lucifer continued his torturous stimulation.

"Kind of looks like an angel to me, these smeared lines making the wings." He spent another harsh jut of hips before continuing the gradual rolls. He leaned in and spoke slowly. "My, my, you're truly an artist. But shall we compare?"

Lucifer sat straight and summoned his wings, spreading them bare to the bayou in their white and red glory. The sinner paused all squirming, watching with wide eyes at the unraveled sets. His breath was still, eyes sparked as they looked over every inch of feathers.

Lucifer chuckled, always so pleased to see Alastor's awe at his span. But it wasn't too long before Alastor was hitching over a moan when Lucifer continued his rolling of hips.

"Look at that." He flapped his wings once as he pressed another hard hump right against his cock. "Spitting. Image. Wouldn't you say?" The showmanship wasn't necessary per se, but oh so fun as Alastor's moaning desperation filled the air.

Alastor chuckled through his groans for a moment before dropping his head to the ground. "Fuck, Lucifer." Blood-coated hands found a new home on Lucifer's legs.

"Ohhh." He glared at the way the bloody grip stained his pants. "You just love to make a mess, don't you? And don't even get me started on your new shirt." He threw the vest to join the jacket. His hand pressed flat to his chest while the other danced his fingers down the middle, pinching the buttons open as he went to reveal the messy painting of red underneath that coated his smooth skin. "So defiant, couldn't keep yourself neat and clean?" He shook his head. "You'll have to face some reckoning for that."

Alastor's smile widened as he raised his head back up, peering at Lucifer with a gleam in his eye. "Oh, don't hold back, your majesty." He gripped tighter into those pants. "I think I quite deserve it."

"Look at you." Lucifer playfully lamented. "Playing with my clothes like their your own personal finger painting canvases." He sighed, leaning over him as he pressed his concealed cock against that soiled shirt. "You were so good all day, and now?" He raised his hand beside his head as the other propped up his chin, elbow digging into Alastor's chest. "I've got to take your toys away." He snapped, rendering both of them completely naked but still covered in blood.

Those stained hands were flush to his legs now, smearing red all over him as Alastor rubbed up and down, squeezing in intervals as he shuddered a breath over Lucifer's face.

"Sssss ahhh." He strained out.

"What would you like?" Lucifer traced a finger down his face. "My deer."

He groaned around the words, baring his teeth to him with wide, hungry eyes. "Fuck me."

He whispered as he leaned closer, listening to every small hitch and gasp of breath. "Didn't quite catch that." Another buck slid his cock against Alastor's, pearly white fluid seeping out, contrasted against the deep red slathered on Alastor's skin.

His breath punched out before whispering against Lucifer's cheek, stamping blood right on him. "Fuck me, please."

"Mmm." Lucifer raised an inch, sighing against his temple. "Music to my ears, love."

He placed a kiss to those lips again. A soft, gentle press that covered his tongue in iron before trailing them down, stopping to quickly lick into the side of his neck, feeling the sinner grip tighter and squirm beneath him.

He went further down still, finding home between Alastor's legs as his large hands grazed over his back, sticky and eager. Lucifer smoothed his fingers down Alastor's chest, covering them in more blood as they left trails behind in the red mess.

Lucifer held his hips as he kissed his drenched stomach with no hesitation. More sinner blood on that heaving body slathered his lips and mouth until he found his way to Alastor's cock. He held it lightly in his hand and licked the fluid that gathered before pressing his lips to the tip. Alastor's hands gripped Lucifer's shoulders.

"Ohhh, yes." He strained out through a whisper.

Lucifer pulled back an inch, taking in a view of the kiss print left on the head. A bead of come already gathering at the small hole that laid in the middle of the mark paired nicely with the red hand print now wrapped around the length.

He locked eyes with Alastor as he raised, grabbing his wrists in his smaller hands and opening the palms to him. "Patience, baby." He tasted the deep red blood that coated them as he gently pressed his lips to the insides of both before encouraging him to return them to the bloody grass.

Lucifer sat back on his legs, dipping a finger low to Alastor's ass. Eagerly, Alastor spread his legs further, presenting himself nicely to the king. He gently pressed over the quivering rim at first, watching his face for indication before fully pushing in, testing the give around his index.

The blood covering his fingers worked alright as lube in the damp bayou, but Lucifer summoned a bottle of their favorite go-to within reaching distance, just in case. It wasn't their first time using blood for these purposes, but if that taught them anything it was how impractical it was for longevity.

Lucifer pushed in and out, allowing Alastor to relax around him. He grabbed Alastor's cock in his other hand eliciting a reactive shock through him. He stroked long drags up and down as he worked his hole wider. His cock streaked even redder from the blood on every pass, a stretched pattern left behind that echoed the creases on Lucifer's fingers with no hint of the hand print that was laid there before.

"Keep going." Alastor begged through static whimpers. "Fuck, Lucifer, don't stop!"

Lucifer looked on pridefully, it was a beauty to see such a great strength dissolve from his touch. Every little twitch and moan he coaxed out scratched a deep, once insatiable, itch.

He worked his index for a while before adding another finger, ramming both in and out to the lowest knuckle.

Alastor's back arched into the touch, groans echoing throughout the bayou as Lucifer languidly pulled in and out of his steadily relaxing hole.

Alastor shot up on his elbows, watching Lucifer with heaving breaths. He gasped through his words. "Lucifer." He swallowed. "Please."

"Tell me what you want, love."

"Fuck me already." His chest raised in fast intervals as he whispered across the bloody landscape of his body. "I'm ready, please."

Lucifer tilted his head. "You want my cock?" Both fingers were still busy at work, stretching that puckered hole, making sure he really was prepped enough.

"Yes. For the love of God, fuck me, please."

Lucifer contemplated for a moment before removing his fingers, watching Alastor's taut rim close around nothing and laying his cock bare to his stomach. He gripped his own cock to pull a long drag down, lubing it with the blood still on his hand.

"Well, who am I do deny such a kind request?" He pushed the sinner's legs up higher and set his cock right as his entrance. "Being so good for me now." He watched with intensity as the rim slowly enveloped his tip, sliding beautifully with the help of that sinner's blood.

Alastor let out a harsh breath dripping in heady desire and need as he sat higher up, gripping Lucifer's neck to pull him into a harsh kiss filled with teeth, tongue, and blood.

Lucifer's arm held him up by the small of his back, readjusting their balance by use of his wings to arch him perfectly as he bottomed out in one solid move. Every inch of his cock felt the clasp of rim around him as he rolled in and out of that immaculately tight hole. He felt the separation of Alastor's lips around his gasping moan as Lucifer exhausted a shaky breath into his mouth. He closed the gap, returning to that wet, sticky mess of a kiss that tasted of blood and Alastor.

Lucifer thrusted, feeling Alastor's hands tighten on his neck as he moved in jolts in and out of his hole before gradually smoothing his movements to repeated, slow rolls to find that perfect spot within him.

Alastor's blood coated lips were parted again, caught on a soundless moan as he locked his starry eyes on Lucifer.

"God." Lucifer gritted out, eyeing the blood smeared over Alastor's teeth. "You're so fucking hot."

His velvety walls squeezed his cock, so silky, so tight, so fucking perfect.

Alastor's moan finally broke, cracking in the air like a whip as it echoed through the bayou. His face twisted, scrunching in that delectable feeling.

"Sssss, ahh, I-I'm gonna—" Alastor struggled, squirming beneath the king as he thrusted deep into him. "I feel it—keep going!"

Lucifer smirked down at him. Time for that reckoning he ordered.

"Oh, Bambi."

He stopped, holding his deeply buried cock inside the sinner through great effort of his own. Alastor writhed under him, searching for that quickly departed friction.

"No-no! Please!" A sudden blat of static popped. "Keep going." His head fell back, hanging away from Lucifer as he mourned the loss. Lucifer listened carefully for their safe-word, ready to clarify and possibly start thrusting at a moments notice if truly craved.

Look, they were masochists, not rapists. Neither were ever in the mood to force the other to do something they didn't want, hence, safe-word. Hell, they even had a signal. And you can bet your lucky duck that he was on the look out for both.

Alastor bucked his hips the most he could, but it was futile against Lucifer's tight hold over him. He gasped as his head hung back, words slipping through whining gasps. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck please fuck me."

But no safe-word, all edging signals were a go.

"Hmm." Lucifer tilted his head, resisting the relentless crave that poked his nerves to pound into that tight hole, shown in part by the small twitches of his wings. "So perfect, so bloody, but so not careful." Alastor raised his head, face curdling around his smile. Lucifer smoothed a finger on his face, pushing back strands of sweaty hair from his forehead. "You think you'd get to soil my gift and my clothes and get off scott-free?"

He whimpered. "…Please."

Lucifer clicked his tongue, condescension thickly infecting his words as they stretched out of him. "So sweet, so desperate. My pretty, little killer."

Alastor gasped through his smile. "Never again, sire." His chest billowed, breathing slowing as he wound down from his almost-high. "I promise. Just please…" His eyes were desperate. "Move."

"You enjoyed our fun today?" He said, ignoring the request.

Alastor stared up at the king, breath ghosting over his face as his eyes switched from one of Lucifer's to the other.

"C'mon, my love." He pulled out an inch. "Did you?"

"Yes! Yes." He swallowed. "That insufferable soul deserved it." He licked the blood that laid smeared across his lips as he gnawed around the words. "Foolish little being."

Lucifer chuckled as he laid Alastor in the grass. He rustled then closed his wings around them, only letting a small amount of light through the sectioned feathers. It immediately felt warmer, humidity trapped in the small space pulling sweat from every inch of skin, hydrating the blood across them that had started to go tacky despite the humid bayou.

"You did so good for me." Lucifer cooed, placing a small kiss to his nose.

"Yes." He pulled every word deep from his throat. "It was guaranteed from day one, after all."

"Mmm." He placed a finger above his eyebrow, leaving a swooping trail of feeling outlining from his forehead, to temple, to chin, collecting a drop of blood on the tip. "Alright. You got your little punishment. But do you want to know what I want you to guarantee now, my dear?" He ceremoniously licked the blood off his finger before pulling himself most of the way out, only allowing his tip to be contained.

Alastor hitched himself, chasing his cock, but didn't even get so much as a centimeter as Lucifer anticipated the instinct.

"I'll give you anything." Alastor's thick, eager growl responded. "Anything."

"Well then." Lucifer grabbed his biceps, digging his thumbs into the muscles. "I want to fill you." He stared daggers into those eyes lit only by a sliver of light through the wings. Letting the sly tone coat his whispered words. "I want to pump my come into your tight little hole, hear you beg for it like it's your life source and completely give yourself over to me until my come is seeping out of your every pore."

Alastor whined. "Fuck."

Lucifer cocked an eyebrow.

He squirmed beneath, still itching for friction. "Please, Lucifer."

"Please…what?" He tilted his head.

Alastor seethed out a breath, bending every which way to get Lucifer's cock deeper. His teeth gritted. "Use me."

"Mmm." He smiled, a spark of pleasure jumping in his heart. "So beautiful when you beg, love."

Lucifer hurled himself back in, digging his knees into the damp grass to bring a quick return of that fierce tempo.

Alastor shrieked, voice feeling louder in the containment of the wings.

Lucifer gritted against his low pitched words. "Beg for me."

"Please! Fuck!." His chest raised with every pant. "Ssss nnn—you feel so fucking good." He swallowed. "I crave every last drop of you."

A shiver trickled over Lucifer's spine. He groaned around a chuckle, sweaty forehead falling to Alastor's. "Ohhh, you'll be the fucking death of me." His lips found Alastor's, sloppy and slick, neither of them fully focused on it as Lucifer's cock burrowed deep into him.

The air thickened in the confines of the wings, heating up the small area and filling the air with the scent of iron and sex.

Lucifer bottomed out into Alastor, over and over, seeking that silky smooth stimulation along Alastor's walls. His head fell to Alastor's neck as he breathed in quick succession over his skin.

Lucifer braced his knees harder to the ground, pushing an unrelenting pace as he felt his stomach swirl in pleasure. Sparks of bliss colliding with each other low in his gut, frantically scrambling and thrashing within him, inching him nearer to his climax.

He attached his lips to Alastor's neck, feeling those muscles straining through his tongue as Alastor's throat vibrated through his words.

"Take me. Use me. Whatever you need is yours." It thundered from deep in his throat, gravely through a thick static. "I…am completely yours."

His sharp teeth pulled at Alastor's skin, sucking an inch of it between his lips to pop those tiny blood vessels into a perfect mark on his neck.

Alastor's fingers gripped Lucifer's sides, no doubt spreading streaks of blood all over his white skin and feathers as they mindlessly bumped against the beginning joints of his wings.

Lucifer's face scrunched, lips going weak against Alastor's salty skin as he groaned. His legs went hallow and stilled, barely able to keep him up as his cock erupted with surges of come.

"Yes." Alastor rumbled. "More. I need more. Every fucking drop."

Alastor's hands smoothed further up his back, grazing his fingers over the start of his lowest set of wings. He pressed his index fingers to the roots, a gentl, easing pressure that washed over the tension that gathered from holding them out.

Lucifer gasped against his neck, feeling ripples of pleasure cascade down his back from Alastor's tandem press into his wings. He wasn't expecting it, but more rounds of come shot out of him, coating the already covered interior of Alastor's ass. Uncontrollably the smallest wings flourished out, cold air sneaking it's way in between the two of them before they settled. Alastor shivered beneath him, tightening his folded legs.

Lucifer's hand gripped for purchase on the ground as he felt the cool air hit his stomach. He strained, feeling the overwhelming pleasure dredged out of his body.

"Yes." Alastor's drawn out voice rumbled in his chest. "More."

Alastor's fingers abandoned the smallest set, trailing up to the roots of his middle wings. Two fingers from each hand pressed their claws into the start of the muscles, pushing deeper than the first set without breaking skin. His curling fingers spread a sparking thrill that burrowed into Lucifer, grabbing hold of bones and muscles, stretching all tension free.

"More" was exactly what Alastor got. Every touch, pressure, gliding push was twisting that deep need and filled him with more come than Lucifer ever imagined he had. Round after round of slick surged into that slippery confine. Lucifer remained braced at his entrance, paralyzed by the unexpected feeling, simply allowing the waves to crash over him and into Alastor.

Those middle wings lost all power, extending out in a burst of wind before both dropping to either side of the couple.

Lucifer strained out a yelp, helpless against the onslaught, another wave of come surging out of him.

Alastor shuddered, his hands pausing their commitment to twisting as he, once again, tensed his legs against Lucifer. "Fuck."

The raunchy smell of sex coated every inch of air under those wings. Come, sweat, blood, all of it hanging around between the atoms like a syrupy, humid stench.

The sinner panted, inches from his ear. Lucifer theorized he was spent, ready to throw in the towel and relax into the grass. His mind was still lost to bliss, untethered and weightless as he sank into the sparkling heat. Only able to focus on hearing every detail of Alastor's overspent breaths and swallows. But it wasn't long before Alastor sucked in a breath and murmured close to his ear.

"More."

Lucifer's stomach fluttered as he felt Alastor's hands move to the top set of wings, hastily delving his fingers into the joints. He cradled the bone between the fingers like chopsticks, pressing on both sides of each wing in a greedy search for intensity.

"Oh, fuck." Lucifer's forehead slicked Alastor's shoulder with sweat as he groaned against his skin. "God, why does that feel so good?"

Friction was completely gone around his cock. He slid against a feeling of nothingness, coated with come and still supplying more with every twist of pleasure.

Lucifer's mind floated to another level as his moaning vibrated into Alastor's shoulder. His top wings shook, ruffling a dance around the unrelenting concentration of intensity that now crawled from tailbone to neck. It played around the roots of his wings in a shimmer of delicious satisfaction.

He soared through that high until he hung on by a thread. Overstimulation making its inevitable way into every touch until Lucifer finally conceded.

He trembled, legs giving out beneath him, lifelessly dropping him to Alastor's chest. It was that moment he realized how much Alastor had come all over himself. A shame that position lacked any view of it. He attempted to raise to get Alastor's mystical fingers to stop their commitment to pressure, but all energy was spent on a certain liquid spilling out of Alastor and there was none left to offer.

"Alastor." His voice cracked through straining features. "Y-you gotta stop." He expelled a heavy breath. "N-New Orleans. I can't. New—"

"Not to worry, all done." Alastor's hands ceased right at the sound of the safe-word, though the echo of the pressure persisted, tingling on his skin.

Alastor's legs relaxed against Lucifer. "Can you put your wings away for me?"

Groaning sighs slipped in intervals from Lucifer, waning slowly as he tried to focus on his wings.

Alastor's fingers mindlessly traced up and down his sides, but that only worsened the overstimulation and pulled his focus.

"T-too much."

"Hmm?"

"Your—." He panted. "Your fingers."

"I see." Alastor stopped, the lack of touch a blessing across his skin.

Lucifer took a deep breath in and concentrated. His wings fluttered a moment, slowly folding them in until they confined themselves back into their sub-dimensional pockets.

Now, the bayou wasn't exactly a cold area. It's humidity and the fact it was in a hotel with a top-notch HVAC system made sure of that. But when you've just spent your spend in the confines of feathers drenched in overexerted sweat, come, and sinner blood, your body adjusts and subsequently finds the bayou atmosphere much colder than normal.

Though, it was an interesting way to find the solution to quickly drying blood when using it as lube. No need for a bottle of the slick stuff when you can keep blood in a liquid state by use of a damp and wet bayou in an even damper and wetter ball of feathers.

Lucifer shivered at the first true hit of fresh air. He was finally regaining some power, able to raise himself to straddle Alastor and gain the wherewithal of awareness to see and feel the amount of come that laid between them. Congealing with the blood, the sticky bounty coated them from their stomachs to Alastor's lower back and soaked into the now-mud beneath them.

Alastor's smile was steady on his tired face. Eyes closed and content with his arms up above his head, index fingers lazily hooked into each other.

Lucifer reached a hand up, cupping his cheek to smooth his thumb over that smile.

"God, you're perfect."

A pleased hum vibrated Lucifer's hand. Alastor turned to kiss into his palm as he slit open his eyes, hot breath ghosting over the palm. "And I'm all yours."

Lucifer chuckled as he took back the hand, bracing against the ground as he raised out of him. Alastor's ass was still slick and frictionless, he barely felt himself pull out. Groaning as he did, he watched the copious amount of come drip from his cock and out of that thoroughly used hole.

An inspection of his arms, stomach, legs, really everything showed the blood streaked all over, it echoed the passionate grips and pulls from their cocoon of blood, sweat, and come. The shower drain was certainly getting a run for it's money that night.

Lucifer stretched his arms and back, feeling the gentle memory of pressure from Alastor's fingers over the sockets of his wings. It was the first time anyone spent so much attention there, and the subsequent reaction was…new.

Lucifer looked back down at the sinner, now resting his head against his forearms as he looked on with a placid smile.

"I gotta ask." Lucifer tilted his head up. "How'd you know to do all that?"

Alastor sighed. "Do what?"

"The wing stuff. It was." His eyes looked around the room before returning. "Interesting."

"Interesting as in good? If so, I would much like the chance to do it again sometime."

The cocky tone was not much appreciated, but much noted.

Lucifer chuckled. "Yes. Interestingly good." He sighed as he rolled his back, a hand massaging his own shoulder. "Did you know that would happen?"

"Not at all. But I had a theory." He raised himself up and took the hand off his shoulder. "They're much like any other joint." His elegant fingers pressed against the outside of Lucifer's wrist, massaging and twisting like he did the wings. "Though, releasing that tension in a joint such as this is relaxing in its own way, with the connection to magic your wings inhabit, I theorized it would be…more intense."

Lucifer placidly watched his fingers, the drying blood on them almost hidden in the dark color as they maneuvered around the bones and muscle. "Well." He smirked at the sinner. "Consider your theory proven."

"It was a beauty to observe." His head tilted, eyes not once leaving his. "Why, by the power of my mere fingers, your facade had dismantled, melting into me as your body sank into that inhibited feeling. It was—" Alastor paused. "You are…" He took deep breath in as his gaze switched from eye to eye again. "Addictive."

Lucifer smiled wider, grabbing his hand and pressing his lips to the fingers. Alastor pushed his hand across his cheek, gripping the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss.

For a moment, they just breathed each other in. The scent of blood fading as it dried on their skin with the sex lingering in the air, quickly overtaking the smell.

Now, Lucifer had a handful of moments he considered perfect. The first time he held Charlie, the first time he laid eyes upon Lilith, the first kill he commanded from Alastor, just to name a few on the unfortunately short list. But he found the longer he was with Alastor, the longer that list got.

Lucifer pulled away first, resting their foreheads together as they breathed each other in and taking a moment to note every small line of color in his eyes, feel every press of his skin against his, and feel that memory of touch on his wings.

Not a single thing out of place, not a single person he'd rather have.

This moment was certainly going on that list.