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Lucifer is surprised when Alastor kisses him. Not bad surprised. Good surprised. But also, a little worried surprised?
They’d been talking, as they often do in the evenings these days. The topic of Alastor’s sexual needs, or rather lack thereof, had come up. He’d seemed melancholy but determined while speaking about it, trying hard to make himself clear. Lucifer can’t say he’s not a little disappointed to have his suspicions on the topic confirmed, but it’s by no means a dealbreaker for him in this tentative, exploratory thing they’ve been working towards. He doesn’t need sex, that he knows. He does, he’s been steadily realizing for the past few months, need Alastor.
He said as much, along with a compelling argument that as a being older than sex, it’s particularly easy for him to put it aside if Alastor never wants that of him.
Which is about when Alastor kisses him. And fuck, yes. This is exactly what Lucifer wants. Alastor in any capacity he’s willing to give. Exactly this.
And yet, as Alastor’s lips explore his and his breath ghosts over Lucifer’s cheek, Lucifer feels a teensy weensy bit of guilt that he may be giving the wrong impression here. That he may have oversold his value as it pertains to Alastor’s needs.
He breaks the kiss. “You do know you have other options, right?” he asks. “There are plenty of sinners who can give you everything you need and nothing you don’t want?”
“And why, pray tell, are you describing your competition for my potential affection?” Alastor asks, sounding irritated, because of course he is. Lucifer is irritated with himself too.
That doesn’t mean he can ignore his concern.
“I just… I just want you to know that you’re not unique—"
“Excuse me?” And hoo boy, the static-laden record scratch is a dead giveaway that his irritation level has jacked up to eleven because Lucifer is so very fucking dumb.
“That came out wrong! I just mean there are others like you in this way and there are still more who would meet you where you are, even in Hell. You aren’t… you aren’t limited to celestial beings who are older than sex as partners.” You aren’t stuck with me, he leaves hanging in the air.
“Hmm,” Alastor says, tilting his chin up and his head to the side in that haughty way he has that always triggers three separate and simultaneous desires in Lucifer.
The first is to run his fingers up the long line of Alastor’s neck to better appreciate and cherish the beauty, strength, and vulnerability of him when he’s like this.
The second is to wrap his hands around his throat and choke the very life out of him for whatever irreverent, disrespectful, infuriating thing he’s just said or is about to say.
And the third is to bite him, to kiss and claim him with deep bruises all along that long line until every inch of skin presented to him has been marked as Lucifer’s and Lucifer’s alone, and then go back for more.
None of these options seem like a good idea right now. The third is probably the worst idea right now.
But fuck, Lucifer wants. He wants only and exactly what Alastor wants him to have, but he wants.
“Tell me,” Alastor continues, like Lucifer’s thoughts haven’t derailed into the utterly insane. “Of these multitudes of sinners who are compatible with my preferences, what proportion would you say I’d find tolerable to keep around?”
Um. “Well, what proportion of people overall do you find tolerable to keep around?”
“Yes, that is the point. It rather narrows the field.” He cocks an eyebrow at Lucifer. “And yet there is a celestial being I’ve been known to tolerate. Occasionally. From time to time.”
Lucifer searches his memory. “Y’know, that’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Alastor snaps, irritation level apparently still well above average. “Now, of these hypothetical persons who are both compatible with and tolerable to me, what proportion of them would find me tolerable?” His smile turns sly. “I’ve been led to believe my personality can be a bit, hmmm, challenging?”
Challenging is one word for it. “A bit.”
Alastor leans forward, well into Lucifer’s space. “And yet you're still here.”
Lucifer tilts his chin up, catching onto the game and suddenly not wanting to back down. “That’s true.”
Alastor nods, like this whole thing is an honest exploration and not a stroll down a merry, predetermined path that Lucifer can finally see the end of. “And finally, of these remaining compatible, tolerable, and tolerant sinners, what proportion would want to be with me for me, rather than for my power or my resources or my ties to royalty?”
“I imagine that might be rare,” Lucifer admits, trying not to smile. “You’re very powerful, and I hear you have the ear of the king.”
“I do!” Alastor cheerfully agrees. “If only there were someone with even more power and a closer tie to the king under consideration for the position. Why, that might ease my mind considerably.”
“You’ve made your point, no need to be smug,” Lucifer says, like smugness isn’t one of Alastor’s best, most throttleable traits.
“With you,” Alastor says, closing the remaining distance between them. “I always have reason to be smug.”
This time, when Alastor kisses him, Lucifer lets him, smoothing his palm up the long line of Alastor’s throat and curving his lips into a matching, smug smile.
***
Thoughts?