Chapter Text
Lucifer lounged at the work table in his room, elbow propped on the cluttered top and his pointed chin resting against the back of one obsidian hand. He was draped at an insouciant angle, legs folded in a lazy contrapposto and foot waving idly in the open air. Taken altogether, the normally ostentatious King of Hell was the very image of an ennui-ridden libertine this evening, his usual regalia forsaken in favour of comfort.
He was dressed down - his coat, waistcoat, and hat arranged neatly on the rack by the (firmly closed and locked) door. Lucifer wore only a crisp button-down open past his winged collarbones and a much more casual pair of trousers than his usual jodhpurs, hooves bare.
A beautiful cut crystal tumbler half-full of rich amber whiskey sat at his elbow, mostly forgotten.
It was a finely aged distillation, true, but how could Lucifer be expected to pay it any mind when a far more sumptuous mouthful had captured his attention?
Really, this was some of his finest work yet.
Where normally Lucifer kept a tidy little tea table and armchairs for entertaining his non-existent guests, a new fixture had taken up a place of prominence. Arranged on the plush rug was what Lucifer understood to be called a bondage board - a sleek black contraption comprised of cushioned leather and sturdy wood. It was insidiously simple and that, he reckoned, was the beauty of it.
When not being utilized in more creative endeavours, the board lay flat on the floor - relatively innocuous and unassuming. However, the brilliance of its design was in its versatility, the entire board built with concealed hinges at three points that allowed for any combination of configurations. Adding to its usefulness were a series of anchor points running down every side of the board, presenting a near limitless array of possibilities.
Really, humans could be so creative when it came to torment. Normally it was a trait that Lucifer disdained, but for tonight he could see the value in a bit of casual cruelty.
A muffled growl sounded from the board’s current occupant and Lucifer smirked.
Really, Alastor had been getting quite out of pocket lately.
Lucifer understood that he didn’t exactly make for the most imposing king in all of creation with his doll-like features and fun-size stature, but there were limits to the amount of disrespect he could stomach. He knew people talked about him behind his back, but it took a special brand of brazen to insult him to his face, and the Radio Demon was exactly the type. In all of his eons, Lucifer had never encountered a Sinner so willing to risk his entire existence just to get the last word, especially not with him.
“Such a fuss,” he drawled, looking over the very same Sinner
Switching his legs and leaning further back into his seat, Lucifer gave Alastor’s prone body a wicked little smile.
The Sinner was stretched out belly-down on the board nude as the day Father above had created him. The anchor hooks were already proving their usefulness, Alastor’s wrists and ankles bound flush with golden chains he had no hope of breaking. His fathomless crimson eyes were covered by a silken kerchief knotted deftly at the back of his head, though Lucifer had taken care not to gag that insolent mouth.
If Alastor wanted to dig himself a deeper grave through the course of his punishment, who was Lucifer to stop him?
He’d given mortals free will after all.
Alastor’s tail flagged in affront at the taunting and really what a delight that was…not that he really had any choice in the matter. The base of that active appendage was threaded with a slim golden ribbon, tied up tight so it could do nothing to protect the Radio Demon’s modesty. He would not be permitted to hide anything from Lucifer’s all-seeing eye. It was part of the lesson and one he would do well to learn today.
Lucifer’s eyes traced the slim lines of the stag’s body cast in stunning chiaroscuro under the dim lighting of the room. He studied the dips and curves of him, the little hollows of every vertebrae, the hungry swoop of his ribs tucked beneath a velveteen pelt of sleek fur. The king could understand why he took so much care to cover up every inch of himself he could while he was out and about in Hell, maintaining his dark reputation. Underneath all of his layers and obfuscation was this incredible softness.
“I would like,” Lucifer breathed out, “To begin this evening with a lesson.”
“Do tell,” Alastor bit out, all venom.
Lucifer spoke over him, his face impassive, “A lesson , Alastor, on a concept with which you will become intimately acquainted with before I’ve finished with you. Let us discuss the Law of Causality. I would ask if you were familiar with it, but your understanding is immaterial considering the point of this exercise.”
Lucifer waved his free hand idly in the air and a slim riding crop dropped into it, “The Law of Causality states that every observable effect has an observable cause. The sun rises in the sky, so there is light. The wind blows in a forest, and so the trees move. It’s really quite a simple concept to apply when thinking critically. I’d like to ensure you’ve thoroughly grasped it before moving on.
“A particularly obstinate Sinner decides to enter into a pissing match with the King of Hell with nothing more than a century under his belt. Tell me, Alastor, how do you think this will end for him?” The crop traced a large circle in the air as Lucifer twirled it like a baton.
Alastor bared his sharp teeth and Lucifer could see the grimace under his pervasive smile, “Naturally, sire, the King of Hell will find himself with egg on his face when his theatricality and parlor tricks fail to do much of anything.”
Lucifer sighed, “You are so lucky my daughter would be upset if you disappeared. Fine then.”
He stood from his seat, the grip of the crop settling once more into his dexterous claws, “I see that you’re going to be a stubborn pupil. That’s alright. I don’t mind a hands-on approach.”
The king settled his hooves carefully onto the carpet, not giving the Sinner any real point of reference for where he was heading. Disorientation would be an excellent way to begin breaking Alastor down. Lucifer strolled unhurriedly across the room, tail waving behind him like an indolent cat while he considered where he wanted to begin.
Alastor’s sensitive ears pricked up and swiveled this way and that, but it wouldn’t help him.
Lucifer cocked his head like a small bird, taking in the Sinner’s skinny body with a more critical eye than before. He’d have to exhibit some care with this one. The trick with impact punishments if you didn’t want to cripple the guilty party was to aim for the fleshy areas of the body, but Alastor didn’t seem to have many of those. Striking a bone too hard or laying into a joint with Lucifer’s infernal strength would do much more than prove a point. He wanted to humble the man, not damage him.
Well…for a man with an ego of Alastor’s size, a bit of humbling may well feel like a mortal wound, but time would tell.
Still, it looked like the buttocks were going to be his safest option, sparse thought they were. That suited Lucifer’s purposes fine, really. If the Sinner was going to behave like a naughty child, then he’d damn well be punished like one.
Alastor very nearly gasped when he spoke again, startled by the sudden proximity of him, “Now then, since it seems like you need a bit of extra help absorbing the lesson, here’s what’s going to happen. I am going to list every single thing you’ve done to annoy me this week. After every infraction, I am going to punish you. Cause and effect, Alastor.”
He could hear the sneer in the Overlord’s voice as he replied, “And what am I expected to do, then?”
Lucifer shrugged and rested the crop against his shoulder, “Lie there and learn.”
He flicked out his free hand and made a come-hither motion with his pointer claw, drawing on a strand of reality and giving it a tug. Beneath Alastor, the board shifted, hinging up just beneath his hips to lift his ass into the air, rearranging his bonds subtly so he was resting on his knees while the board braced him up. He was fully on display and there was no escaping his lesson.
Making a soft tutting noise against his alveolar ridge, Lucifer brought the leather tab of the crop down to trace a delicate circle around the smattering of fawn spots on the Sinner’s hip, “Oh, and remember…you brought this on yourself.”
Alastor jumped at the unexpected contact and Lucifer could have purred. Good, he was already losing track of things under his blindfold. It would force him to focus only on what stimulus he was receiving from Lucifer…on his words and his vengeance.
“I’m going to break my own rule a bit and remind you of the first time you spoke back to me. You swore at me. What was it you said?”
The Overlord growled and tried to dig his claws into the bench beneath him, biting out, “Fuck. you.”
“Ah yes, that’s the one,” Lucifer said a touch too brightly and brought the crop up.
His aim was true and he landed a blow right across the meat of Alastor’s cheeks, pleased when he saw the first pink line blooming under creamy fur. How delightful that the pelt on Alastor’s ass and thighs seemed to form the shape of a heart. A perfect target.
Alastor hissed between his teeth, though he remained stoic aside from that. It didn’t bother Lucifer overmuch since he had quite a few offenses to reel off and plenty of strength left in his arm. There was still plenty of mean to beat out of the Radio Demon.
“Cause and effect, Bambi. Now, to this week. Let’s start with how you ruined breakfast on Monday.”
Of course Alastor felt the need to speak, “Worried I’m encroaching on your job, sire?”
This was going to be another lesson in causality for Alastor, though he didn’t know it yet. Lucifer had already resolved that for every smart remark or failure to learn, he would add five swats at the end of his appointment with the crop. The longer it took to break him down, the longer he’d be on this board (and the longer he’d be unable to sit properly for the next few days). He was already at ten swats and Lucifer was going to savour every single one of them.
“At breakfast,” Lucifer continued, pretending to ignore his riposte, “you deliberately spilled coffee into my lap at the table. I can sense your shadows, little Sinner, and I know you know that. You’re reckless, not stupid.”
The crop made a ‘thwip’ sort of sound as Lucifer brought it down at a different angle, cutting a sharp, diagonal line across pale fur.
Alastor twitched, but now that he’d cottoned on to the routine it seemed he’d determined not to make another sound.
Just fine.
Lucifer hummed, “That same day, you changed the cleaning roster to send Niffty into my room, a place she is not permitted to be, and in her frenzy she destroyed a project I had been working on.”
Another blow with the crop against that perfect, heart-shaped posterior and this one was harder. Lucifer had been proud of that particular creation and Niffty hadn’t had the distinction to tell the difference between his creative chaos and garden-variety untidiness. That one had hurt and he had known it was Alastor since no one else managed the staff schedules.
“Perhaps if you were better at tidying up after yourself , sire, it wouldn’t have been necessary.”
Fifteen swats now.
“Alastor, I’m going to be nice and offer you a warning - you’re going to want to stop talking.”
“Please consider this your formal invitation to do something about it, Your Majesty,” Alastor quipped, probably thinking himself very clever indeed.
Twenty.
Lucifer was the very image of calm as he raised the crop, “You baited me in front of Charlie, knowing full well I’d either let you win or upset her for fighting with you.”
This time the crop came down in a flat line across the sensitive place just below the Radio Demon’s bound tail. That had taken some careful aiming to ensure he wouldn’t damage the delicate muscles that controlled it, but it was worth the flinch he earned. That had been the hardest hit yet, a warning that Lucifer took using Charlie against him very seriously. It wouldn’t bleed, but the stripe that blow left behind was a darker shade of red than any of the others.
It seemed that something about this was getting through to Alastor because he didn’t have a witty comeback after that one.
“At five points during the week, you brought up my family in unflattering ways specifically designed to hurt me.”
Lucifer let that one soak in for a minute while he rolled his sleeves up in preparation for what was to come. Five times this week Alastor had brought up his ruined marriage and his failings as a father. They had been pointed little things that no one else would pick up on, but the First Fallen had understood loud and clear.
He flicked out with the crop again, aiming to take Alastor off his guard by letting this one be softer than the last three. He watched as the tense muscles at the small of the Sinner’s back relaxed, likely thinking he was getting off relatively easy for that particular offense.
Poor thing.
The king pulled back his arm and cut loose on the next one, not stopping to speak in between as he raised a painful welt on Alastor’s ass. Five infractions equaled five hits with the crop and the Radio Demon was going to take every last one of them. Lucifer took care to vary where each one landed to avoid either numbing Alastor to the sensation or doing too much damage. The one he striped across the backs of the other man’s thighs right beneath the crease of his ass-cheeks clearly stung considering Alastor actually tried to jerk away from that one.
The natural reaction was a good sign, though. He was less poised now, sinking down into his instincts. It was an excellent start.
“Now then. Let’s move on.”
Alastor was quiet as Lucifer progressed through his list of offenses from the week, occasionally letting out a hiss or a growl when the crop fell. By the end, muted whines were falling out of him and his poor ass was a spider web of stinging pain. Almost every inch of his cheeks were criss-crossed with weals that ranged from blush pink to lurid maroon. They traced down his upper legs and a few even decorated the vulnerable insides of his thighs.
He was shivering by the time Lucifer was done with the first lesson, cheek pressed into the bondage board, and little wonder given the state of his hind end.
“And has the lesson sunk in for you yet?” Lucifer breathed, barely winded from the exercise, his voice as calm and low as it had been before.
He traced the tongue of the crop over a particularly unhappy looking welt and Alastor honest-to-Father whimpered.
“I am your king, Alastor, and sometimes I feel like you’re content to forget that fact. Yes, I’ve been absent and yes you’re one hell of a powerful Sinner, but at the end of the day…at the end of all things…you’re mine. I am the son of morning. I was once the favourite of God and I am not to be trifled with for your amusement,” Lucifer continued, banishing the crop and peering down at his subject.
He knelt down gracefully on the carpet next to the bondage board, reaching out with a sin-stained claw to take a handful of abused flesh, squeezing. Lucifer watched the way his fingers pressed into the skin, the stripes distorting under his firm (though not cruel) grip. Alastor huffed at the touch and tried to curl his hips away, but propped up by the board there was nowhere for him to go.
Lucifer released his grip and slid a hand leisurely down the swell of the cheek, petting down the smooth fur until he encountered the crux of the Sinner’s thighs. Alastor let out a wounded little bleat at the unexpected contact and Lucifer pulled his hand back to find his fingers wet.
“...If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you enjoy being shown your place.”
That seemed to rouse the Radio Demon and a bit of static picked up around them, the man’s lax smile growing sharper as he panted out, “And what place is that, sire ?”
Mmm, still some bite in there.
“On your knees. Beneath me.”
The chains rattled and clinked where Alastor tried to kick out, his ears gone flat against his head, “I am below no man.”
“Lucky for you then, I’m no man,” Lucifer said lightly and clicked his damp fingers.
The bondage board underneath Alastor slowly fell flat once more, the hinges relaxing so it resembled a cushion in the middle of the rug again. The Sinner looked restless where he was still chained to his belly, almost as if he anticipated he’d be released…as if that was all Lucifer had in him. That just wouldn’t do, not when he still had fight left in him. Lucifer had to make sure the lesson took .
Reaching out, Lucifer took hold of the back of Alastor’s mussed undercut and held his cheek to the board, “If you fight, you’ll only make this harder.”
Then he clicked and the golden chains melted away.
At first, Alastor squirmed like he was gathering his energy to bolt, but Lucifer didn’t give him the opportunity to make another bad decision. With effortless ease, he flipped the Overlord onto his back on the board, pinning him down with a careful hand around his throat. His free hand recaptured Alastor’s wrists, holding them down while new chains formed at the anchor points above his head, trapping him. Alastor tried to wind up for a kick with his sharp hooves, but Lucifer was ready for him, snagging both legs behind the knee with the back of a single elbow and pinning them up.
The sight would have driven a weaker being to abandon the rest of the punishment altogether.
Alastor was tied down on his back, hands pulled above his head while his rabbit-narrow chest heaved with exertion, thin belly flexing. His knees were curled up to expose his striped backside with its little wounded heart and the faintest blush of slick nether-lips peeked out from between his legs, pussy suffused with blood.
But Lucifer was not weak, not when the point of this entire adventure was proving to his Overlord beyond a shadow of a doubt that his dominance was to be respected.
Keeping his voice perfectly even, Lucifer said, “We aren’t done here, Sinner.”
Alastor tried to thrash and let out an angry elk’s grunt when he couldn’t get anywhere, held by chains of Lucifer’s will and by his inhuman strength.
“See, sometimes cause and effect isn’t as immediate as it seems. For instance, every time you lipped off at me during the first lesson? I remembered that. Brace yourself.”
Another chain snaked between the contact points at either side of Alastor’s waist, holding him still while Lucifer laid a quick, open-handed spank on his helpless hindquarters. It wrenched another bleat out of the Sinner, a mix of outrage and pain, as he was taken in hand once again.
Lucifer preferred this to the crop.
He could feel perfectly where all the tenderest spots on Alastor’s behind were with his palm, the places where the heat radiated the strongest. It allowed more of a personal touch where he could target the spots that would drive the buck to agony and avoid the places that would break him. Lucifer could feel every twitch and bunch of the muscle held in his hands, the way Alastor tried to escape the inescapable.
It was having an effect.
Beneath him, Alastor yanked at his chains, fists clenched, as Lucifer spanked his ass raw. He shook his head fitfully against the padded board, arching his back to try and wriggle away while his cries rose to the ceiling. Bit by bit, the mask of the great and terrible Radio Demon was chipping away to reveal the man underneath, overwrought and overwhelmed. His ears pinned back to his skull and little spots of dampness began to dot his blindfold as the tenth swat fell.
They were at the threshold. All he needed was a push.
Cooing softly at him, Lucifer knew there was enough of a crack in his armor to try another tactic, “Look at you, Al…doing so well with the lesson now. You’re so sweet when you break for me. Tell me, have you learned your lesson?”
Alastor shook his head vigorously in the negative, past the point of words. It was another sign they were getting close.
“Shhh shh shh, the time for fighting is over, sweetheart. Don’t you want to be good for your king?” Lucifer asked, leaving off the spanking for a moment to gently run the back of a knuckle through the other man’s wet folds.
It shook a keening sound loose from Alastor’s throat that was better than music.
“Tell me you’ve learned your lesson. Show me that you’ve learned. I can be a very cruel king, but I can take care of what’s mine,” the fallen intoned, putting a bit more inflection into his voice than he’d utilized during the first portion of the punishment.
Alastor tried to roll his hips down to chase the feel of his fingers, but said nothing so Lucifer clicked his tongue and changed again, pinching down hard on a welt.
The Sinner beneath him wailed through his fangs at the onslaught, his body too confused to keep up the walls that normally protected him day in and day out. He’d been tied down, made to present, been introduced to the business end of a crop, stroked, and now faced the relentless skill of Lucifer’s hands. He was on the precipice of where he needed to be, so his king began to remove his own mask.
He landed another harsh spank right beneath Alastor’s tail and the Sinner’s head rolled back. Almost there.
“Okay, sweetheart, okay. We’ve got most of the nasty out of you. Nine to go. Nod for me if you understand.”
Slowly, so slowly, Alastor managed a nod.
“Good boy. Alright, do you want to come once I’m done with your punishment? We’re not finished yet, but I need your consent now. You’ll be drifting by the time it’s over,” Lucifer said, his voice still firm with authority but softened by an edge of genuine care.
He watched as Alastor’s lips formed the word ‘yes’ after a moment of thought and he nodded to himself.
Good.
Now to get him the rest of the way over the edge.
Adjusting his grip on the underside of the stag’s thighs, Lucifer pressed his knees further back and renewed his efforts to break the wily Sinner down. The spanking was brutal, but not quick, giving Alastor space so he wouldn’t dull himself to the feeling before the next swat connected. It was harder than Lucifer would have ever dreamed of going with a partner in the past, but the other man needed it this way or he’d stay locked up in his head like a prisoner.
Lucifer watched him carefully, taking stock of the way his Sinner’s face smoothed out around swat number fifteen, the way his head lolled and he no longer fought the position he’d been folded into. His hooves swayed in the air as the king worked his ass over and he went utterly boneless somewhere around seventeen. He was still conscious though, drifting somewhere past the pain to a place where he didn’t have to think, only respond - safe in Lucifer’s care.
The spanking finally concluded at twenty just as Lucifer had promised, Alastor’s hind-end red as a cherry under the thin fur and giving off heat like a furnace. The final blow was unforgiving, letting the Sinner know that his punishment was finally over and putting a punctuation mark on the whole affair.
Tenderly, Lucifer lowered Alastor’s legs back down to the board and didn’t bother to bind them this time, leaving them to splay open invitingly. The stag only acknowledged the change with a kitten-soft hum, nestled in the subspace Lucifer had painstakingly crafted for him. The king had proven his dominance once again, had won this vulnerable peace that Alastor would never dare show anyone else…anyone lesser.
Lucifer leaned down to kiss his cheek gently, stroking tears away from his sharp cheekbone, “Such a production, habibi.”
Alastor was utterly relaxed, but Lucifer’s work wasn’t done yet. His good boy had asked to come and would need tending to after that.
The fallen looked down and regarded the state Alastor was in. His cunt was slick and had been so for a while, the fur around his entrance a full shade darker and matted down from his own dampness. Poor thing was probably feeling needy as hell at this point. He and Alastor didn’t have sex often thanks to the other man’s nearly non-existent libido, but pain-oriented sessions like this always turned him on.
Trying not to jostle the Sinner too much, Lucifer moved from his position beside the board to join him on it, lying between Alastor’s legs and settling down on top of him. They’d learned some time ago that the Overlord enjoyed the pressure when he was lost in subspace and Lucifer loved to reward him when he let his guard down enough to get there. Reaching down with one hand to undo his slacks, the king guided the head of his cock to Alastor’s entrance without fanfare.
It was slack now that all the furious tension had bled from the stag’s body, so Lucifer pushed in on one long glide, resting his hand low on his lover’s stomach so he could thumb soothing circles over his clit. Alastor moaned soft as a sigh and clenched around him. Lucifer leaned up to pepper doting kisses along his Sinner’s scars, aiming to flood him with comfort now that the worst was over.
He rocked slowly inside of Alastor, luxuriating in the caress of silken walls hugging around his manhood like they were made for him. Lucifer didn’t thrust particularly deep, just small gyrations of his hips to stroke his good boy’s depths. He kept his pumping hips in time with the light petting he was lavishing on his lover’s slick pearl, keeping sex as unhurried as possible. He found that this was the way Alastor preferred it.
That wasn’t to say that rough sex was entirely off the menu, especially not when the only way Alastor could even get aroused some days was through fighting. Hell, he’d hunted the buck down in his own bayou just last month and bent him over so vigorously that Alastor screamed his name (quite a feat since the Radio Demon was not, ironically, a talker in bed).
But it didn’t fulfill him quite the same way.
He stayed taut like a bowstring the entire time when they went at it that way and always seemed keyed up after. He liked it, it just…it wasn’t this .
It wasn’t warm and comfortable where he didn’t have to think about anything, safely mastered by his king and tucked beneath him where it was safe. Like this, all he had to focus on was the seed of pleasure blooming into full flower beneath his navel while Lucifer fucked him like a slow, summer tide. Luckily for him, Lucifer liked it this way too.
He loved watching the normally tight lines of his good boy’s shoulders go all languid, loved the way his smile became such an understated, dazed thing. He adored the subdued whimpers he coaxed out of Alastor every time their hips met. Lucifer cherished the way his lover’s cunt fit around him like a glove, fluttering as his ecstasy grew.
This was one of the only times he could see an Alastor who wasn’t all sharp edges.
Ever-attentive, Lucifer noticed the way the Sinner’s hands flexed in his bonds, not fighting but reaching and he quickly banished what chains remained. Drawn like a magnet, Alastor’s long fingers wrapped in his golden locks, holding him close as if there was even a question of the fallen leaving before he brought his boy to orgasm. Subspace left Alastor skin-hungry like that.
Lucifer lost track of time while he serviced his Sinner, watching his face for any signs of distress. When Alastor finally peaked, it was with a demure little squeak that the fallen would absolutely never be permitted to mention again. He clung tightly to his angel with all that remained of his strength, riding out the waves of pleasure before collapsing with great finality onto the cushioned bondage board.
Good boy.
~*~
With the scene over and Alastor contentedly beyond the reach of the usual stress and worries of Hell, Lucifer had gotten them both cleaned up and into bed. With a click of his fingers, the bondage board was squeaky clean and folding itself up to tuck discreetly in the armoire, the crop was sanitized and tucked in its special locked drawer with their other punishment tools, and the radio was clicking on to fill the room with Ella Fitzgerald at a low volume.
With his lover safe under the blankets, their toys cleared away, and all the tasks of the scene completed, Lucifer had time to think.
He and Alastor needed to talk.
The punishment today had been agreed upon before Alastor was ever tied to the bench, but it had still been necessary. The Radio Demon had absolutely done each and every thing Lucifer had laid into him for, making a proper nuisance of himself. He’d been a hellion all week in ways that were actually hurtful and this wasn’t the first time it had happened. Lucifer didn’t think his lover really disrespected him that much, but…
It would just get like this sometimes. Alastor would be perfectly fine for a month or so before he’d begin to wind up and cause trouble. He’d poke at Lucifer’s sore spots, needle at him, and even break things until it all came to a head and he had to be punished just for them to find equilibrium again. The Devil was at his wit’s end with it as he turned it over and over again in his mind, stroking careful claws through Alastor’s hair.
The Radio Demon nuzzled up to the hollow of his throat, scenting him in a purely animal act of comfort-seeking.
Lucifer sighed and draped an arm around his shoulders, drawing him close. He really was sweet when they managed to drop him into subspace, which made the week leading up to this all the stranger.
Honestly, the fallen was no fool.
He knew perfectly well that Alastor was a monster of the highest order - a serial killer, an Overlord, a cannibal, and a fucking philistine when it came to coffee. He knew he’d let a predator into his bed. It was just that Alastor had lines he didn’t cross. They were fucked up lines that probably looked like they’d been drawn by a sugared-up toddler, but they were there . He didn’t cross them with certain people he’d allowed under the very small umbrella of his affection.
Well…not unless he wanted something.
Huh.
Lucifer’s brows furrowed and he looked back down at his lover, noting the way a slow awareness was returning to his intense scarlet eyes from beneath hooded lids. He’d stay relaxed for the rest of the night, but with an hour tended to be the duration for him remaining in that place only true submissives wound up in under the right conditions.
“Hey,” Lucifer whispered, knowing that Alastor didn’t like loud noises as he was surfacing.
“Mm,” Alastor replied, staying curled up to his heat.
“How are you feeling?” The king asked dutifully, picking tangles out of his lover’s ears with his clawtips.
Sometimes talking helped coax Alastor back to awareness.
Exhaling softly through his nose, Alastor looked at a place between Lucifer’s shoulder and his chin, voice more husky than usual as he mustered up words, “Like I may be taking breakfast standing up tomorrow.”
“It’s not too bad, is it?” Lucifer asked.
“No. Bearable. Goodness, but you didn’t hold back this time, did you?”
That seemed like a safe opening to begin the discussion Lucifer wanted to have, “Of course I did. You know my rule - I don’t want to do any damage that will actually cause you lasting harm.”
“More’s the pity,” Alastor sing-songed, good mood still in place.
It would hopefully remain since what Lucifer was doing didn’t break any of the patterns of one of their scenes. It was expected that they would talk after once they both had their brains back and functional.
“Habibi, I’d actually like to ask you something about these scenes.”
“Go ahead.”
“They’ve been getting…kind of personal lately. Some of the things that were said were actually pretty hurtful. You haven’t thrown Lilith in my face since we started seeing each other, so what happened last week?” Lucifer said, careful to steer away from direct accusations. He wanted to understand what led to all of that, not hound his lover, “Did I do something to upset you?”
Alastor was quiet where he rested against Lucifer, still not looking at his face. His ears twitched, tickling the bottom of the king’s chin. Oof, this was going to be an interesting answer if Alastor wasn’t just saying it.
“You haven’t done anything specifically to upset me, no,” he finally said evasively.
Lucifer calmly directed him back with, “Alright, what about not-specifically?”
His lover puffed out an unamused laugh against his collarbone, “I mean that you personally haven’t offended me more than you usually do.”
“Okay, that’s good to know. But something was bothering you. That’s what I’m hearing,” Lucifer said, patient, “I’d like to know what triggered that. I love our time together, but I don’t really appreciate what it took to get there.”
“...You are angry with me,” Alastor said and damnit Lucifer could feel him starting to tense.
“No,” he said, stroking a hand down the Overlord’s lean back, “Not at all. You know how this works, Alastor. You were punished and it’s done. We don’t hold grudges once punishment is over.”
Warily, Alastor accepted his words and settled back down, “Then why ask?”
“Because I like what we have and I want it to be good for both of us. So if something’s eating at you, I think we should talk about it.”
The Radio Demon mumbled something that sounded distinctly grumpy, so Lucifer gave him a very, very light pat on his heated bottom to remind him the king was still in control until at least the aftercare was done.
It did the trick.
“...Now that we are close, you are ridiculously hard to rile to a point where you determine punishment is necessary. It used to be quite easy but these days…” Alastor hummed and lifted a hand from his lover’s chest to waggle back and forth as if it explained everything.
Luckily, Lucifer had gotten pretty good at deciphering ‘emotionally constipated asshole’ lately.
“You were trying to make me punish you?”
“Yes.”
Alright, well Lucifer’s theory about Alastor only being an irascible prick when he wanted something was at least correct.
“Can you explain it to me?” He asked.
Alastor huffed, “You will mock me.”
“Nope. Safe space, Al. Tell me what’s going on in that devious head of yours.”
The stag squinted up at him, but eventually laid his head back down and gave in to the afterglow still lingering in his bones, “...I have always been restless. Even on Earth, I would sometimes get an itch in my brain that needed to be addressed. Down here in Hell it’s only gotten worse. It’s like ants under my skin. It builds and builds until I feel like I’ll go mad from it. In the old days, I handled it with a bit of light anarchy…perhaps a playful murder or two…”
Father in heaven, this guy.
“But the first time we negotiated one of these little punishment scenes, I felt…purged, perhaps?”
Understanding lit up Lucifer’s brain and he shifted so he was fully embracing his lover, stroking the red hair that fanned out across his chest, “The pain settles you down.”
“I suppose,” his Sinner conceded, “And, perhaps, I get a little…wary of your authority. I need to be reminded that you’ve earned it and I’m not just bending the knee for no reason. Don’t take it to heart, angel. I’ve always been somewhat contrarian when it comes to authority figures.”
The pieces all snapped together.
Alastor had never known a moment’s peace in Hell. He’d worked to Overlord status almost immediately and he’d been maintaining it ever since. Sleep was a luxury and there were always a million knives pointed at his back at any given time. It must get to him sometimes, the hypervigilance required to appear as unbothered as he did day in and day out. He’d realized somewhere along the way that his punishments were a release valve, and once Lucifer wasn’t punishing him as often…
Well, all that boredom and paranoia had to go somewhere didn’t they?
“You know…it doesn’t have to be a punishment,” Lucifer said gently, “If you need to shut your head up for a little while, you can just ask for a scene.”
Alastor gave a little bite to his chest, mulish but not breaking the skin, “...I find it embarrassing to ask.”
“Tough,” Lucifer said and dropped a kiss between his ears to soften the impact of that, “You’ll ask from now on instead of picking fights. And…” he had mercy on his Sinner, “if I catch you trying to pick a fight with me, I’ll ask you if you need it.”
“Why must you insist on being reasonable?” His lover grumbled without any heat.
Because he was this awful, amusing man’s Dom and it was his job .
But Lucifer didn’t voice that sentiment since some of the terminology made Alastor roll his eyes and scoff, so instead he offered another truth as he tilted the Sinner’s chin up to receive a kiss, “Because I happen to like you and I’d like to keep you.”
As Alastor yielded to him, he murmured against his surprisingly soft lips, "You work for the things you want to keep, habibi..."