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darcydarlingdabbles · 1 month ago

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At Spring Break ~ Part 1 ~ Cruise Brochure

RadioApple~Human Au/Age Gap~Top!Dom!Alastor

~Divorced Dad!Lucifer~Explicit

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It’s the last spring break before graduation, and Lucifer is determined to book a relaxing, adults-only cruise. What he doesn’t realize is that his choice is known for its open-minded crowd, risqué parties, and whispers of swinger activity. Alastor is delighted. Between sensual shows, mysterious red-lit lounges, and a European-style nude sauna, Lucifer finds himself flustered in public, adored in private, and gently pushed to embrace his own confidence. Alastor, ever the soft dom, is more than happy to help. Featuring: rooftop makeouts, skinny dipping, a missed swingers’ invite, rope demos, beach day flirtation, and Lucifer finally learning to love being looked at.

Lucifer shifted minutely in Alastor’s lap, though even just a little movement made concentrating nearly impossible.

The glossy brochure pages crinkled as Alastor turned them with deliberate slowness, his free arm draped casually around Lucifer’s waist.

Like they were just, reading the Sunday paper.

Like Alastor didn’t have Lucifer’s back tucked flush against his chest, and wasn’t admonishing him for every little wiggle.

Like the blonde could hear the smirk in his boyfriend’s voice with every little tsk the Dom gave.

“The Aphrodite’s Promise,” Alastor read, his voice a warm rumble against Lucifer’s neck. “An exclusive Mediterranean experience for the discerning traveler.” His thumb absently stroked the exposed skin below the hem of Lucifer’s sweater. “Rather poetic name for a cruise ship, don’t you think, darling?”

Lucifer made a noncommittal sound, trying to focus on anything but what Alastor was doing to him.

The afternoon sun streamed through the high windows of the living room windows, catching dust motes in golden shafts.

He’d been so confident when he suggested this—sitting in Alastor’s lap while they reviewed the vacation he’d booked for them, a surprise that had made Alastor’s eyebrows lift in that way that always made Lucifer’s stomach flip.

But fifteen minutes in, and he was already unraveling.

“Hmm, interesting,” Alastor continued, examining a particular page with exaggerated attention. “Adults-only, clothing-optional pool deck with private cabanas available for reservation.”

He shifted slightly, the movement causing Lucifer to bite his lip.

“Tantric yoga classes. Couples’ massage workshops.”

Each amenity was read with increasing emphasis, Alastor’s voice dipping into that velvet register that turned Lucifer’s bones to jello.

“Nightly themed parties.”

Alastor lowered the brochure slightly, the reflection of his glasses hiding his eyes.

“Lucifer,” he said, too sweetly, “where ever did you find such an…excursion?”

Lucifer’s face went hot.

Fuck, if just Alastor’s voice was doing that to him—how the fuck did he think he could do this??

“It’s a luxury European cruise line.”

“Mmm,” Alastor hummed skeptically, but whatever he was getting at was going right over the blonde’s head. Lucifer had lost his ability to pick up on subtle hints about five minutes ago.

Okay, maybe, more like ten.

Alastor was turning to a new page.

“Midnight Mascqueade. Sunrise Natural Yoga. Nightly shows…it does sound lovely.”

“I just wanted something…well it’s still spring break,” Lucifer managed, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. “But not…families with screaming kids. Not college students drinking themselves stupid. Just... adults. Refined. Quiet.”

“Oh, I doubt it will be quiet,” Alastor murmured, his lips brushing the shell of Lucifer’s ear. “But I do appreciate your thoroughness in researching our options.”

Lucifer closed his eyes, trying to regain what little composure he had left.

He’d spent hours comparing cruise lines, wanting their first vacation together to be perfect.

The Aphrodite’s Promise had seemed ideal—elegant, intimate, with an emphasis on couples’ experiences.

He should have asked Alastor if the younger man wanted a booze cruise with drunk co-eds. It didn’t…seem like the brunette, but this was his last spring break—maybe he wanted to be young and wild.

And maybe, his old man partner was holding him back.

“I can cancel it,” Lucifer said quietly. “If it’s not what you want.”

Alastor’s arm tightened around his waist. “Darling,” he said, “I didn’t say that.”

The brochure was set aside as Alastor’s now-free hand came up to tilt Lucifer’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“I’m simply amused by your selection.” He brushed a thumb over the blonde’s bottom lip—making Lucifer realize he’d been biting it. “And pleased by your initiative.”

“You are?” Lucifer swallowed, caught in the intensity of Alastor’s gaze.

The position—turned slightly to face Alastor while still seated in his lap—caused another shift inside him, and he couldn’t suppress a small gasp.

“Yes, you did well.”

Lucifer shivered. Even that much praise from Alastor still did this to him.

Or maybe, it was just his heightened state…and the smug bastard knew it.

“Having trouble focusing, love?” Alastor asked, his smile sharp with satisfaction. “You’ve been rather distracted this entire conversation.”

“You know exactly why,” Lucifer grumbled, aiming for indignation but landing somewhere closer to breathless.

“Remind me,” Alastor said, all innocence despite the wicked curve of his mouth.

Lucifer’s face turned a brilliant pink, from the neck of his sweater up to his ears.

“You’re…you’re inside me.”

“So I am.” Alastor’s smile widened. “And you’ve been warming my cock so beautifully for…”he glanced at his watch, ”nearly twenty minutes now. Such patience.”

It was barely even praise, but Lucifer’s untouched cock twitched with need.

“Alastor…” Lucifer whined, gripping the younger man’s thighs that were caging him in.

“Now, now,” the brunette admonished, even as the glossy brochure slipped from his fingers. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

The phrasing caught Lucifer off-guard, because of course he’d done it before—he’d done it with Alastor. That first weekend they met.

Fuck that was not helping the heat in his face.

“Wait, no—I mean, yes, but—” He stopped, flustered. “It’s different.”

“Different how?” Alastor prompted, one eyebrow arched in interest.

“Different how—of course it’s different when it’s with my mouth!”

Lucifer’s voice was practically a whine now.

“Are you saying it’s no longer a calming experience for you,” Alastor said, as though Lucifer had revealed something fascinating. “How exactly does this differ?”

“It’s—” Lucifer shifted again, unable to stay still any longer.

The movement sent a jolt of pleasure through him, and he couldn’t help but rock his hips slightly, chasing the sensation. “It’s more. Too much and not enough. I can’t—”

He broke off as Alastor’s hand slid under his sweater, warm palm flat against his stomach, holding him more firmly in place.

“You can’t what?” Alastor prompted, his voice lower now, less teasing.

“I can’t understand how you’re so calm,” Lucifer said, frustration bleeding into his voice. “How you can just sit there and read about whatever hell ‘tantric yoga’ is when you’re—when we’re—”

When Alastor’s cock had been buried in Lucifer’s ass from the moment they sat down on the couch.

“Who says I’m calm?” Alastor interrupted, his breath hot against Lucifer’s neck. “Just because I’m composed doesn’t mean I’m not affected.”

The hand on Lucifer’s stomach slid higher, fingertips tracing the outline of his ribs, then back down to just brush through the soft blonde curls at the base of the older man’s cock.

“Do you know what it’s like,” Alastor continued, his voice a controlled murmur, “to feel you trying not to squirm? To watch you bite your lip every time I turn a page? To know that I’m buried inside you, and all it would take is the smallest movement to make you fall apart?”

Lucifer’s breath hitched. “Then why don’t you?”

“Because,” Alastor said, nipping lightly at the juncture of Lucifer’s neck and shoulder where the loose collar showed off his marks, in various stages of healing, “I love when you beg for it.” His hand dipped lower, long fingers framing Lucifer’s pelvis—but still not giving the blonde the mercy of touching his cock. “When you can’t take it anymore and you give in. When you stop thinking and just ask for what you need.”

The teasing touch was maddening, too light to provide relief but enough to stoke the fire that had been building since they’d started this game.

Lucifer tried to move, to press against Alastor’s hand, but the arm around his waist held him firmly.

“Alastor,” he whine, his voice thick with need. “Please.”

“Please what?” the brunette’s teeth grazed his earlobe, and Lucifer shuddered.

“Please move,” he whispered, past the point of embarrassment. “I need—I need you to fuck me properly. I can’t take it anymore.”

He felt Alastor’s smile against his skin.

“Since you asked so nicely,” Alastor said, and in one fluid motion, he lifted Lucifer just enough to stand, then guided him down onto his hands on the coffee table.

Cock still buried inside him.

The new position drove Alastor deeper, and Lucifer gasped, fingers curling around the edge of the table. The scattered brochure pages slid beneath his hands, glossy and cool and sticking to his burning skin. Alastor’s hands settled on his hips, gripping firmly.

“Is this what you need?” Alastor asked, pulling back slowly before pushing forward again, a measured thrust that made Lucifer’s arms tremble.

“Yes,” the blonde breathed, dropping his head between his shoulders. “God, yes.”

“Not God,” Alastor corrected mildly, establishing a deliberate rhythm that had Lucifer rocking forward with each thrust. “Just me.”

Lucifer might have rolled his eyes if he weren’t so desperate, so overwhelmed by finally, finally being fucked after warming Alastor’s cock for so damn long.

Each movement sent sparks of pleasure through him, building on the anticipation that had been coiling tighter with every minute of Alastor’s charade.

“You’re beautiful like this,” the younger said, his voice rougher now, his serenity finally beginning to fray

. His hand slid up Lucifer’s spine, pushing his sweater higher to expose more skin.

“So responsive. So perfect.”

The praise undid Lucifer as surely as Alastor’s cock hitting that sweet spot inside him. He arched his back, pushing back against Alastor’s thrusts, chasing the building pressure.

The afternoon sunlight warmed his exposed skin, and somewhere distant in his mind was the thought that anyone passing by the first-floor windows might see them—Alastor still fully clothed, Lucifer disheveled and desperate on the coffee table—but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Alastor leaned forward, covering Lucifer’s body with his own, one hand braced on the table beside Lucifer’s, the other reaching around to stroke his aching prick in time with his thrusts.

“Is this what you were thinking about,” he murmured, “when you were booking our little cruise? The two of us, in a private cabana, or perhaps against the railing at night, looking out at the sea?”

The images flooded Lucifer’s mind—Alastor taking him under the stars, the Mediterranean air on their skin—he was about to lose his damn mind.

“It’s not—I didn’t—” He squirmed, which was a mistake; the slight movement caused Alastor to press deeper, and he had to pause to catch his breath.

“I think you were,” Alastor said, his rhythm becoming less controlled, more urgent. “I think you imagined all sorts of things. And we’re going to do every single one of them.”

Lucifer couldn’t respond; he was too close, the pressure building to an unbearable peak.

Alastor seemed to sense it, his grip tightening, his pace increasing.

“Come for me,” Alastor commanded, his voice a hot whisper against Lucifer’s ear. “Let me feel you.”

The permission was all Lucifer needed.

He came with a broken cry, his body tensing around Alastor’s cock, who continued to fuck him through it, drawing out every last shudder of pleasure.

Only when Lucifer was trembling with oversensitivity, dropping to his elbows on the coffee table as his as clenched and greedily tried to take everything his lover would give—did Alastor’s control finally snap.

His fingers dug into Lucifer’s hips as he drove into him one last time, his own orgasm silent save for a harsh exhale and the heat that coated Lucifer’s insides.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, breathing heavily, the only sound in the large living-room.

Then Alastor carefully withdrew, helping Lucifer to sit up before pulling him back into his lap on the sofa, this time facing him. With gentle hands, he brushed Lucifer’s disheveled hair from his forehead.

“So,” he said, his voice warm with amusement and lingering desire, “tell me more about this not-a-sex-cruise.”

Lucifer huffed a laugh, burying his face against Alastor’s neck.

“Shut up,” he murmured, but there was no heat in it.

Alastor’s arms wrapped around him, holding him close. “I’m looking forward to it,” he said softly, and this time, there was no teasing in his tone. “Truly.”

Lucifer lifted his head, meeting Alastor’s gaze.

The usual mischief was there, but something else too—something warm and genuine that made Lucifer’s chest tighten. “Me too,” he said.

The brochure lay scattered across the coffee table and floor, forgotten for now.

They would sort through it later.

But in that moment, with the late afternoon sun casting long shadows and Alastor’s arms around him, Lucifer couldn’t imagine anywhere he’d rather be—on land or at sea.

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