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darcydarlingdabbles · 17 days ago

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At Autumn's End ~ Part 3

RadioApple🍂Human Au/Age Gap 🍁Top!Dom!Alastor

🍂Divorced Dad!Lucifer🍁Explicit~ 9.1k

AN: Big sexy times, big feelings happening here.

🍂🍁🍃

🍁 On Ao3🍁Read for Free on Ream🍁On Tumblr 🍁

The clock on the wall ticked softly in Lucifer’s room, echoing in his head.

He couldn’t sleep. Then again. He never could.

Normally, he would go bustle around the kitchen and make something, but, well…last night he got more sugar than he asked for.

Ugh, that was cheesy even for him.

Lucifer threw off the blanket and started pacing in front of the desk and little lounge before his fire place.

The master bedroom was huge and spacious…and empty. And he rubbed his arms and fold them across his bare chest he looked out the back window and the snow drifting down.

Only to be interrupted only by the sudden and insistent knock at his door.

Lucifer’s parental instincts went off like a fire alarm. He quickly grabbed the fluffy robe from the end of his bed and hurried to the door. The plush fabric whispered against his skin as he wrapped it around himself, tying the belt with a practiced motion.

As he pulled the door open, the dim light from the hallway spilled into the room, framing a figure clad in red satin.

"Alastor?" Lucifer’s voice was low, a mix of surprise and admonition. "It's late."

Alastor stood there, seemingly unfazed by the hour or the situation. His red pajamas shimmered slightly in the faint light, their sheen emphasizing the confident tilt of his head and the playful glint in his eyes.

"Yes," Alastor replied smoothly, his voice carrying a hint of mischief, "and it's cold in my room. My fireplace isn’t working."

Before Lucifer could respond, Alastor stepped forward, crossing the threshold with an easy, assured grace. The scent of cedar and something spicy—was it cinnamon?—trailed into the room with him.

"Maybe you can show me how to operate yours," Alastor suggested, his tone both innocent and suggestive.

Lucifer watched as Alastor sauntered into the room, his red satin pajamas shining under the faint light. Bringing a palpable energy that shimmered around him.

"Alastor," Lucifer began, his voice tinged with exasperation, "you shouldn't be in here."

"Oh, why shouldn’t I?" Alastor replied, a smirk playing on his lips as he surveyed the room with casual interest.

"Because, well…” Lucifer blustered, then tightened the soft robe around himself when those hazel eyes were on him.

“I shouldn’t freeze to death because of your devastating lack of both self-esteem and self-control.”

”Uh, okay, ouch.” Lucifer blanched at the sharpness of those words. Even as those eyes softened on him.

”Tell me I’m wrong.” Alastor said it softly, and Lucifer couldn’t. He could only huff and fold his arms over his chest, and deflect.

“Did you try asking Charlie or Vaggie for help with your fireplace?" Lucifer asked, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to maintain some semblance of authority despite the younger man’s intrusion.

Alastor chuckled softly, a sound that felt like it was filling the room like his presence.

"I was about to knock on their door," he said, drawing out the words like a cat playing with a mouse, "but from the sounds coming from it, I was rather reluctant to disturb them."

Lucifer cringed inwardly.

So, going upstairs to fix Alastor’s fireplace was definitely not an option. And it was freezing enough to snow outside–no wonder he was cold.

The older man cleared his throat, searching for a solution that would steer them away from this precarious situation.

"Alright," Lucifer relented with a sigh, feeling the weight of inevitability pressing down on him. "Let's get the fireplace in the living room going. It'll warm you up just fine."

“Well…we could do that…” Alastor sauntered over to the bed.

With a casual grace, he sat back on his hands, crossing one leg over the other. His eyes gleamed with mischief, and an impish smirk danced across his lips as he settled into the plush comforter, making a point of appearing at ease.

And that he wasn’t going anywhere.

"But sir, the living room is so wide open," Alastor drawled, his voice smooth like honey, "anyone could walk in on us there."

Lucifer's eyebrows shot up to his hair line, before he shook his head and sighed in pure exasperation.

The weight of Alastor's presence pressed down on him like the humidity before a storm. He resisted the urge to rub his temples–needing to maintain some sort of semblance of control over this situation. Before it got right out of hand.

"There's not going to be anything to walk in on," Lucifer countered, his tone firm yet threaded with a hint of incredulity. The pure arrogance of this young man–of this boy, compared to him.

He stepped closer to the foot of the bed, as Alastor made a point of leaning back. Lucifer needed to ground himself to the reality of their situation.

"Think about it for a second, Alastor. You're my daughter's friend. Hell, I was your age when I had Charlie!" But even as he spoke, Lucifer couldn't ignore the electric charge that hummed in the air between them, a current that defied logic and expectations.

Alastor's eyebrow arched with a playful elegance, a flicker of amusement igniting in his eyes. "Well, now, Mr. Morningstar," The corners of his mouth curled upward as he tossed an offhand remark into the charged silence. "I think it’s a little early to say you want my children, isn’t it?"

Lucifer felt the heat bloom across his cheeks, seeping through his pale skin with embarrassing intensity. The little jab cut right through his attempt at composure, and he thrust both hands through his blonde hair.

"Can you at least stop it with the 'sir' and 'Mr. Morningstar' stuff?" he groaned, his fingers toyed absently with the belt of his robe, twisting the fabric . "I feel old enough already."

“Well,” Alastor's gaze traveled leisurely over his robe—fluffy, undeniably comfortable, yet suddenly feeling like the most inadequate armor against the intensity of those eyes. “What would you like me to call you?”

“My name, obviously.”

"Lucifer," Alastor purred, and oh, that was worse. So much worse.

The younger man’s voice was a silken thread that curled around Lucifer's name for the first time with a tenderness that belied the teasing grin playing at his lips.

Lucifer's heart thudded traitorously against his ribs, and he swallowed hard, trying to tether himself to reason.

"Why do you have to say my name like that?" he huffed out, though he meant to be stern.

"Like what?" Alastor replied, feigning innocence with a tilt of his head, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his awareness—the calculated precision of each syllable designed to unravel Lucifer's defenses.

“Like that!” Lucifer's fingers instinctively found their way to his hair, ruffling through the golden strands in an attempt to regain some semblance of control over the situation spiraling rapidly away from him. “Like you’re going to–”

“Eat you?” The brunette smirked, his gaze only lifting a moment to take in Lucifer’s mussed hair.

“Yes, that.”

“You rather enjoyed my mouth on you last time, did you not?”

Lucifer was going to burn to death from embarassment. That smirking tone knew he was drawing images of last night right back into the older man’s head. He bit his bottom lip, clapping a hand over the shoulder of his robe, where it barely covered the bite mark Alastor left in his skin.

"Listen here," Lucifer began, his voice slipping into the authoritative timbre of a father, hoping to reestablish some boundaries, to remind them both of lines they shouldn't cross.

But before he could continue, Alastor's soft tutting interrupted him, accompanied by a look so infuriatingly fond it made Lucifer pause.

"That was cute," Alastor said, a teasing lilt to his words.

The comment disarmed Lucifer completely, the dad voice rendered useless against the unwavering confidence radiating from the younger man.

Lucifer's cheeks turned a shade of crimson that rivaled the deepest embers of Hell. His mind raced, scrambling for some semblance of composure as he opened his mouth to retort, perhaps to regain control or at least to articulate something coherent.

But any attempt at words was swiftly stolen from him as Alastor moved with sudden intent, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat. The blonde’s back hit the door that he’d been holding open, only to have Alastor’s hand press above his head. Forcing it to click it closed.

The younger man's hand reached up, grasping the front of Lucifer's robe with a possessive confidence that sent a shiver down his spine. And he cursed himself that he was tilting his chin up, hoping for a kiss.

"Lucifer..." Alastor's voice purred and curled between them, that same silken tone lingering on each syllable with deliberate slowness that made him hang on it. "Where do you keep the lube?."

The words hung there, bold and unashamedly self-assured, wrapping around Lucifer like a lasso tightening at his very core. His heart skipped a beat, shock rippling through him anew as he blinked, trying to process the audacity—the sheer ease with which Alastor navigated this intimate terrain.

“How dare–you–we won’t–”

And then, without hesitation, Alastor kissed him—hard and unyielding, a force of nature that demanded nothing less than complete surrender.

Any protests that Lucifer might have conjured melted away under the heat of that kiss, lost amidst the fiery collision of lips that left him breathless. All thoughts dissipated like smoke on the wind, leaving only the raw sensation of urgency thrumming through his veins.

Alastor pulled back from his lips, and Lucifer felt himself whine. Until the younger’s forehead pressed against his. Overwhelming him with his cinnamon scent.

“If you want me to stop.” The brunette panted, and Lucifer thrilled that he could leave him breathless. “You need to tell me. Now.”

Lucifer couldn’t help the pathetic little sound that escaped him at even the idea of stopping now. Alastor wasn’t even holding his wrists, but his hands felt pinned to the wall behind him. He lifted his head, hopeful for another kiss.

That Alastor denied him.

“Darling.” Alastor purred, his tone on the edge of impatience. “Use your words.”

Lucifer swallowed. The last of his reservations falling into the dark like the snow outside.

“Green.”

“Good boy.”

Then Alastor was kissing him. And it felt like Lucifer could breathe again. Until those long fingers wrapped around the bulge in his lounge pants.

Lucifer let out a moan that Alastor swallowed as he kissed him, deeper, demanding entrance. Tasting every inch of him.

But those clever fingers were relentless, their touch both deft and deliberate as they found the waistband of Lucifer's sweats. In one smooth motion, they pushed the material down, gravity taking hold as it pooled around Lucifer's ankles.

Damn those clever hands, Lucifer thought dimly, even as his own body responded with a traitorous eagerness.

A part of him marveling at how easily the younger man unraveled him piece by piece, yet another part surrendering to the undeniable allure of it all.

Alastor's fingers hovered at the tie of Lucifer's robe, a pause in the fervent dance that had consumed them both. And, Lucifer could guess why.

Because he’d been reluctant to remove his shirt around the younger man all weekend. And it struck him that not only had the brunette noticed–he actually cared if Lucifer was comfortable. The weight of Alastor’s gaze was almost tangible as he subtly pulled back, his eyes searching Lucifer’s face with an inquisitive glint.

"Perhaps," Alastor murmured, brushing a soft kiss against Lucifer's lips—gentle, teasing, "you ought to change into another sweater, hm?"

Lucifer hesitated, the suggestion bumping awkwardly against his rising need. He whined, a sound that escaped him unbidden, raw and vulnerable. "I don’t want to," he confessed, voice low and rough.

The flicker of amusement in Alastor's eyes was unmistakable, but his smile held a warmth that chased away any notion of mockery.

"Then what do you want?" Alastor prompted, voice smooth and inviting as velvet.

"For you...to bite me," Lucifer admitted, the words tumbling out like a floodgate giving way, "to be marked…and claimed." His admission hung in the air between them, charged and electric.

"Gladly," Alastor purred, his voice a dark promise.

With deft fingers, he untied the robe and left Lucifer breathless and bare to the night, exposed.

The cool air caressed his skin, a stark contrast to the heat blooming under Alastor's gaze—a silent vow to fulfill every unspoken want.

Alastor's fingers grazed Lucifer's skin with a touch that was both feather-light and searing. The contact sent a shiver racing down his spine, igniting a fire in his veins that had lain dormant for too long.

Doubt, though, nibbled at the back of Lucifer’s mind. Why would this gorgeous young man ever want him?

Alastor’s next words silenced every thought.

"Every inch," he purred, his voice a sultry promise that seemed to resonate through the room. "I can't wait to mark every inch of you."

With a gentle but insistent push, Alastor guided Lucifer onto the bed.

Lucifer fell onto the yielding mattress without complaint, lifting his head to the claiming kiss. His skin already tingling at the thought of more.

Alastor’s lips trailed down the column of his throat, dragging the edge of his teeth–but leaving no marks above his collarbones. As he promised.

"Ah!" Lucifer gasped, his voice catching in his throat as Alastor sank his teeth back into the older man’s shoulder. Not the same place because that would distort the pretty purple that bloomed overnight.

But leaving a brand new bite to criss-cross it. Like there was a design written in his head. Alastor's lips descended upon him, tracing a path of bites along his torso, each one a deliberate claim that set Lucifer alight with sensation.

Alastor growled with delight at the marks he was leaving—little trophies of his conquest.

The sharp nip of teeth followed by the soothing brush of Alastor's tongue sent waves of pleasure coursing through him. Each bite was a declaration, a testament to Alastor's desire that left no room for doubt.

Lucifer arched beneath the attention, the undeniable evidence of being wanted now decorating his body. And sinking into his very soul.

Lucifer lay there, every nerve ending alive with anticipation as Alastor's hands roamed lower, spreading his legs with a possessive leer that went straight to Lucifer’s aching prick.

He was fully exposed, every inch of dad bod laid bare before Alastor’s hungry stare.

Lucifer felt his legs tremble as the younger held them open wide. And then the brunette was catching his eye. Waiting for Lucifer to look at him. before he lowered his head, dragging his tongue along the soft flesh of the inside of his thigh.

“Color?” That predatory purr asked.

And Lucifer had to fight the tremble of anticipation in his voice, so it wouldn’t sound like anything else.

“Green, so green.” Lucifer squirmed.

Alastor chuckled, pushing his legs further apart as he simply said “Good.”

The fireplace was roaring away, but Lucifer still felt a shiver of goosebumps prickle over his skin at the cool air.

Until Alastor’s mouth set him on fire all over again.

Each bite along his soft thighs was a spark, igniting deeper within him, and he could feel the promise of bruises blooming beneath the surface.

"Turn over," Alastor commanded as he stood, his voice a velvet spike that sent a shiver down Lucifer's spine.

Lucifer hesitated only for a heartbeat before complying, shifting over onto his stomach and his elbows. Feeling a little tingle across his skin at how exposed he was.

"Where's the lube?" Alastor's question was more an expectation than a request, each word dripping with intent.

"Nightstand," Lucifer managed to pant out, his mind swimming in a haze that left little room for coherent thought. Just talking felt like a tether to reality, and he was ready to toss it out the picture window behind him.

Alastor moved with purpose, his footsteps a murmur on the carpet as he approached the nightstand.

Lucifer watched him through half-lidded eyes. The anticipation was a live wire under his skin.

"What's this?" Alastor's voice broke through the haze with a teasing lilt.

He held up a cock ring, its snap glinting wickedly in the electronic fire light. There was a smirk playing on his lips–and it was clear he knew exactly what it was.

Lucifer felt a flush rise to his cheeks. His gaze flickered away for a moment before meeting Alastor’s playful stare. "It's mine," he admitted, the words tumbling out with a hint of sheepishness.

"Is it now? How fortuitous" Alastor's grin widened, a flash of white teeth against his brown skin "We'll use this too, since it's been a while for you." His tone was light, but there was an underlying challenge in it.

“Hey!” A spark of indignation flared within Lucifer at the insinuation, a feeble attempt to cling to the remnants of his dignity. “You know, I’ve probably been doing this since before you were born.”

And he actually saw Alastor roll his eyes.

“Yes, yes darling, I’m sure.” The younger moved behind him, as Lucifer turned to try to keep him in sight. “But, you haven’t been doing it with me.” Alastor purred. Just as he seized Lucifer by the hips, dragging him down the bed and manhandling him until he was bent over the end of the bed.

"Spread your legs," Alastor commanded, his voice dropping to a sultry murmur that danced over Lucifer's skin like a caress. The words sent a shiver racing down Lucifer's spine, igniting something primal and urgent within him.

He hesitated only long enough to draw a shaky breath, then obeyed, surrendering to the pull of Alastor's will with a thrill that made his pulse quicken anew.

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Lucifer never would have believed that he’d end up in a position like this.

Face down in the plush comforter of his own bed, ass up and completely exposed. As Alastor’s sure fingers languidly stretching him open. Taking his tortuous time.

The sinfully red satin of Alastor's pajamas brushed against Lucifer’s thighs, a teasing reminder of how frustratingly clothed the younger man remained.

"You're doing so well, darling," Alastor murmured, his voice a low purr that reverberated through Lucifer's bones.

One hand pressed firmly at the nape of Lucifer’s neck, keeping him pinned, grounded, even as each deliberate stroke of Alastor’s fingers made him writhe.

"Alastor..." Lucifer’s voice was a half-groan, half-whisper, the sound drenched in desperation. Each calculated brush of his sweet spot sent shocks of pleasure ricocheting through his body, leaving him breathless and aching for more.

"Patience," Alastor chided softly, leaning over him, a shadow cast by moonlight filtering through the window. The world outside was a blur of wintry white, but in here, heat seared through Lucifer’s veins as he surrendered inch by inch to Alastor’s deft touch.

Lucifer’s back arched instinctively, seeking more of those skilled touches, his thoughts a haze of white noise and want.

"Please," he heard himself say, the plea falling from his lips unbidden, raw and honest.

Each press of those sinfully long fingers sent him spiraling further into a space where thoughts were fleeting. And all he could do was feel.

"Lucifer," Alastor's voice was a silken caress, wrapping around his name with an intimacy that made his heart stutter.

"You're too good at this," Lucifer squirmed beneath the unyielding hold on his neck. His mind floated somewhere between reality and oblivion, "Too old for this,"

It was a weak protest, more habit, as if acknowledging the disparity in their ages could anchor him somehow.

"Nonsense," Alastor replied, his tone light, teasing, but leaving no room for arugment. "You’re taking my fingers so well."

The praise was like a balm, soothing some hidden ache inside Lucifer, even as it fanned the flames of his desire higher.

Alastor continued, leaning closer until his breath ghosted over Lucifer’s ear, making him shiver. "I’m sure you’ll take my cock like a good boy."

A whimper escaped Lucifer, unbidden, the sound lost in the heady cocktail of want and submission. Any semblance of control slipped further from his grasp, leaving only the raw, unfiltered need to please the man who had him laid bare in every sense of the word.

"Good boy," Alastor had said, those two simple words burrowing under Lucifer's skin, igniting something deep within him.

But… alongside the warmth, there was a chill, creeping into the edges of his consciousness, reminding him of everything else he was.

He wasn't just old–he felt worn out. Baggage that tangled with his self-worth, dragging it down beneath the surface. Depression loomed over him like an ever-present shadow.

"Alastor," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, breaking through the haze for a moment. "You... you deserve better than this. Than me."

The confession hung heavy in the air between them. Bound up and fizzling with the insecurity and doubts that clawed at Lucifer, especially when he was at his most vulnerable.

The sudden stillness from Alastor was like a jolt, ripping Lucifer from his spiraling thoughts, making the room feel colder, the air thicker.

"Say that again," Alastor's voice sliced through the silence, sharp, cold, and commanding.

Before Lucifer could even process the words, a sharp thud echoed through the room—a hand coming down hard on his ass.

Lucifer gasped, the sensation ricocheting up his spine, leaving a tingling warmth in its wake. The sting on his skin was a reminder—albeit a startling one—that he was very much alive, here and now.

"Say it again, Lucifer." Alastor's tone was unwavering, firm, and beneath the surface, there was something else—something almost tender.

His mouth opened, a protest forming on his lips, but doubt clawed at him, urging him to speak the self-deprecation that had become second nature. Another swift smack landed in the same spot. Precisely.

Lucifer flinched, the repetition sending a shiver throughout his entire being.

The heat on his skin bloomed, and somewhere within the haze of sensation and emotion, a new awareness took root. Alastor knew exactly what he was doing—each strike calculated, deliberate.

It was a punishment. Alastor had never punished him. And it brought Lucifer sharply back to reality.

"Again," Alastor pressed, unyielding.

Lucifer's mind spun, caught between the urge to resist and the desire to yield. His defenses wavered, the walls he'd built around himself weakening under the relentless onslaught..

Alastor flipped Lucifer over onto his back.

The sudden shift left Lucifer momentarily breathless, a rush of vulnerability washing over him, but before fear could take root, Alastor's hand found its place at his throat.

The touch was firm but not constrictive—a gentle reminder of the power Alastor wielded, but also of the care with which he wielded it. Lucifer felt the weight of that hand like an anchor, grounding him amidst the tempest of emotions swirling within.

"Stay still," Alastor’s voice low and smooth, as if coaxing the tension from Lucifer’s body. “And keep your eyes on me.”

He complied, the unspoken command threading through his very veins, calming the storm swirling in his chest.

With deliberate movements, Alastor spread Lucifer's legs wide, each motion purposeful, leaving no doubt in its intention as he moved between them. A shiver of anticipation danced along Lucifer's spine, mingling with the remnants of uncertainty that clung to him. Alastor’s lithe body, pressed into the cradle of his so damn intimately it was breath taking.

“I know what I want.” Alastor said, so softly and emphatically, Lucifer’s world narrowed down to every word on his lips. “And I have, excellent tastes.” He chuckled, lowly and dark. “And I want you. So, it only follows that you must be desirable.”

Lucifer felt his mouth open, to agree or to contradict, he didn’t know–when he felt Alastor snap his hips forward. So the older man felt the hard line of his cock through those satin pjs. Making Lucifer whine.

"Isn't that right?" Alastor's words were soft yet unwavering, carrying a conviction that resonated. He leaned over Lucifer, their eyes locking, and in that instant, all pretense fell away.

Lucifer could see it—the certainty in Alastor's gaze, the desire that lay beneath the surface, raw and unhidden. It was a question that was not a question at all, but an affirmation.

Alastor knew what he wanted, and more than that, he wanted Lucifer.

In the silence that followed, Lucifer felt the truth settle around him like a warm embrace. Alastor had chosen him, and in that choice, there was worth—something long elusive, now finally within reach.

“Alastor…”

Alastor’s fingers plunged back inside Lucifer, rough and unyielding. Three all at once, they filled him and stole his breath. It wasn’t uncomfortable–it was a relief–a release of tension, as if those deft fingers were unraveling the tangled knots in him.

Lucifer's body arched involuntarily, a gasp escaping his lips. Alastor moved with purpose, each thrust precise, exploring until he found that sensitive spot that made Lucifer's vision blur with pleasure.

"Isn’t that right?" Alastor repeated, his voice low, almost tender. He brushed against Lucifer's prostate, sending a jolt through his spine, a reminder of what was asked of him.

"Yes, Alastor..." Lucifer breathed, the word tumbling from him, born of instinct and need.

"Say it, darling." Alastor's voice was velvet and steel, a command wrapped in endearment. His fingers moved relentlessly, coaxing every ounce of sensation from Lucifer’s trembling form.

Lucifer whined. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—say the words that felt too big, too heavy to be true.

"Say you are worthy of being wanted." Alastor repeated, his tone unwavering as he leaned over Lucifer, the weight of his presence all-consuming.

Lucifer shook his head, a stubborn refusal even as his body betrayed him, arching into each calculated thrust. The world narrowed to the point where their gazes locked, Alastor’s eyes holding his with an intensity that burned.

"Look at me," Alastor urged, that had still firm on Lucifer’s throat.

That touch kept him still, made him focus on nothing but those dark, intense eyes.

His cock throbbed, trapped and dined by the ring around it. It was a torment that bordered on bliss, and Alastor watched him keenly, absorbing every reaction, every flicker of emotion.

"Please," Lucifer gasped, desperation coloring his voice, not sure what he was pleading for—for release or reprieve.

"Say it," Alastor insisted, his fingers never faltering, the rhythm a relentless reminder of his demand.

Lucifer’s resolve wavered under the pressure of Alastor’s unyielding attention, under the promise lingering in the air—that here, in this space, he could be wanted, cherished even, if he just admitted it.

"You may be older," he murmured, his breath a warm whisper against Lucifer's skin, "but I assure you, I can wait you out. As long as it takes."

Lucifer's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, overwhelmed by the certainty in Alastor's tone.

There was no doubt, no hesitation. Just the unshakeable conviction that patience was infinite, and that Lucifer was worth every second spent waiting.

And there was as nothing quite like having alastor’s full attention on him.

Lucifer’s hands had stayed pinned to the bed, his fingers clenched in the sheets, without having to be bound or held down.

Alastor’s unwavering gaze grounded him there.

Every fiber of his being urged him to move, to reach out, to defy this feeling of vulnerability. But, he couldn’t. Because he didn’t want to.

"Lucifer…" Alastor’s voice was a velvet whisper, wrapping around him with an intimacy that felt like a caress. Lucifer's breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against the cage of his ribs.

"I…" he began, his voice barely above a whisper, cracking under the weight of vulnerability. His mind spun, words lodged at the back of his throat like stones he couldn’t dislodge. All the while, Alastor's fingers moved inside him—patient, relentless, drawing him closer and closer to the precipice.

"The full sentence, darling," Alastor prompted tenderly, the words sliding over Lucifer’s skin like silk, teasing and coaxing—but never demanding. It was maddeningly tender.

This wasn’t just lust. It wasn’t enjoying playing with a partner during a scene. Alastor was taking Lucifer apart just to put him back together again.

And, after that, how could Lucifer ever let him go?

"I want to hear you say it," Alastor continued, his tone as smooth as molten honey.

Lucifer inhaled shakily, his chest tight with the tumult. With each breath, he could feel the embers of trust and warmth expanding, threatening to engulf the shadows of doubt and insecurity that clung so stubbornly to him.

And then, finally, the words tumbled out, each syllable a hard-won victory against the specter of self-doubt. "I am…worthy…of being wanted."

Alastor's eyes lit up with approval, a smile curving his lips as he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to Lucifer’s temple.

"Good boy," Alastor murmured, his voice rich with praise and promise.

With a deftness that belied the magnitude of the moment, he reached down and released the cock ring, freeing Lucifer from its constraining hold.

In that instant, euphoria crashed over Lucifer with the force of a tidal wave, leaving him quivering beneath Alastor’s unwavering affection.

🍂🍁🍃

Waves of blissful pleasure coursed through Lucifer's body, leaving him trembling and breathless. Alastor's skilled hands continued to caress him gently, easing him through the aftershocks.

"You did so well for me," Alastor murmured, his voice a soothing balm.

Lucifer's eyes fluttered open, meeting Alastor's intense gaze. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice hoarse. And he was so blissed out, he didn’t even blush at his awkwardness.

Alastor's fingers traced delicate patterns across Lucifer's flushed skin. The tender touch felt like everything to him, and when he meekly tugged on those satin pajamas, the brunette indulged him and moved to sit on the bed.

Lucifer was about ready to curl right up into his lap. Soak up this newfound attentiveness like a house cat in the afternoon sunshine.

His cheek came to rest on the red fabric that covered Alastor’s thigh, clinging to the slender frame.

"How are you feeling?" Alastor asked softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from Lucifer's forehead.

Lucifer leaned into the touch, savoring the warmth of Alastor's palm against his cheek. "Incredible," he murmured, and it was true. He was floating on a satin cloud. Not even thinking of what usually came next.

A small smile tugged at Alastor's lips. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, cher."

Lucifer's head felt pleasantly fuzzy, his thoughts hazy and unfocused. He found himself overcome with affection for the man above him. Without thinking, he nuzzled against Alastor's crotch, relishing the smooth texture of against his cheek.

"Thank you for taking such good care of me," Lucifer said softly, his words slightly slurred.

Alastor's hand came to rest on the back of Lucifer's neck, a comforting weight that also stilled his movements.

"It’s been my pleasure," he replied, his voice warm with fondness.

Right, Lucifer was starting to get a bit more lucid, and remember…Alastor’s pleasure…he really should—

Lucifer's blissful haze was abruptly shattered as he felt Alastor's hands gently cradle his head, lifting it from the satin-clad thigh.

With careful movements, Alastor lowered Lucifer's head to rest on the soft bedding. Before Lucifer could fully process what was happening, Alastor had slipped away, rising to his feet beside the bed.

Panic surged through Lucifer's chest. "Wait!" His voice was hoarse, tinged with desperation. "You're not going to leave again, are you?"

Lucifer's eyes darted down, immediately noticing the obvious bulge straining against Alastor's sleek pants.

“Or…let me help you out…?”

But Alastor merely shrugged, a small, enigmatic smile playing at the corners of his mouth. But his night clothes caught the light from the snowy window, which was probably the only reason the blonde’s fuzzy head noticed how the younger seemed to shift from foot to foot.

"That's not necessary, Lucifer," he said, his voice low and smooth. "I told you. Orgasm isn't really my goal."

Lucifer furrowed his brow, confusion mingling with concern. "But…I want to make you feel good too," he insisted, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

Alastor's expression softened. He reached out, gently caressing Lucifer's cheek. "You were so good for me," he murmured. “That's all I need.”

Lucifer leaned into the touch, torn between the warmth of Alastor's praise and his own lingering desire to reciprocate.

The blonde felt his tongue dart out, wetting his dry lips. "Don’t you want to stay—and fuck me, I mean?"

Despite Alastor's reassurances, a nagging desire still gnawed at him. His voice came out weak, almost pleading,

Alastor's long fingers threaded through Lucifer's hair, the gentle touch at odds with the intensity of his gaze. His eyes roamed deliberately down Lucifer's body, lingering pointedly on the evidence of their recent activities.

Lucifer followed his line of sight, suddenly acutely aware of his own spent cock, still flushed and sensitive, and the cooling streaks of come decorating the constellation of bite marks Alastor had left across his belly.

A rush of heat flooded Lucifer's cheeks as he realized the implication.

He was thoroughly spent, but here he was, practically begging for more.

"But I still want you to fuck me," Lucifer insisted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Alastor cocked an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and intrigue playing across his features.

Without a word, he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Lucifer's body reacted instinctively, reaching out to clutch at Alastor, desperate to keep him close. But Alastor was quicker, catching Lucifer's wrists in a firm but gentle grip.

His thumbs traced small circles on the sensitive skin, a gesture both soothing and electrifying.

Lucifer's breath caught in his throat as Alastor leaned in, his lips barely grazing Lucifer's ear.

"Tell me, Lucifer," Alastor whispered, his breath warm against Lucifer's skin. "Do you truly want to be fucked, or is it that you simply do not want to be left alone?"

The question stripped away his defenses. Cutting right to the quick, as the younger said he did.Why did Alastor always seem to see right through him?

"Both," Lucifer admitted, his voice trembling slightly. He met Alastor's gaze, determined to be honest. "I want you to fuck me, Alastor. And…I want you to stay the night."

A flicker of something—surprise? approval? longing?—passed over Alastor's face. He released Lucifer's wrists and shifted, settling more comfortably on the bed.

“I assure you, I was hoping to stay.” Though a little bit of mirth lit his face, and his eyes traveled over Lucifer once again. “After I cleaned you up a bit.”

Relief and desire surged through Lucifer in equal measure.

He pressed close, intent on kissing Alastor, on showing his gratitude and renewed passion. But before their lips could meet, Alastor placed a finger against Lucifer's mouth, halting him.

"Careful now," Alastor warned, his tone light but firm. "This is my favorite set of sleepwear. I'd rather not get it…sticky."

Lucifer froze, suddenly hyper-aware of his own state—the drying come and blooming bruises over his pale flesh.

Lucifer's cheeks burned as he remembered Alastor's rules.

“It wouldn’t, I mean.” He huffed, rubbing a hand through his hair to try to ground himself. And not sound as petulant as he felt. Like a child repeatedly denied a treat. “They wouldn’t get messy, if you took them off.”

He swore the chuckle Alastor gave was indulgent. “Will you want to touch me, then?”

Lucifer’s attention snapped back to Alastor, nodding eagerly. “Touch you, blow you—anything you want, Alastor. Please.”

“And, there in, lies the rub.” The brunette murmured, and Lucifer mourned the movement he took to get back on his feet at the edge of the bed. But not the way the way he crawled after Alastor.

“You don’t want me to touch you?” Lucifer asked, his tone light with curiosity that tilted his head as he looked up at the younger man. Wondering if this was what had him pulling away the two times before.

“Oh, no, darling,” Alastor met his eyes, with that intense hazel look. “I very much do.”

Lucifer was about to offer everything, anything Alastor wanted, when the brunette surprised him by being the first to pull his eye away.

“You make me greedy, Lucifer. I want everything you’ll let me have. I want nothing to be left for anyone else…But,” Alastor folded his arms over his chest, looking defensive and utterly unlike his ever-confident self. “I can’t always…" he said softly. "It's not…easy for me to finish."

Lucifer's first instinct was to smirk, sure Alastor was teasing or challenging him.

But as he searched the younger man's face, he caught a glimpse of something he'd never seen before: embarrassment. The vulnerability in Alastor's expression made Lucifer's heart clench.

The blonde quickly moved from his knees to give the brunette his full attention, sitting as he reached for Alastor’s hand that was clenched in the crook of his elbow. He felt resistance, for a moment, before the younger gave in to the hold.

"Have you seen a doctor about it?" he asked gently.

Alastor's fingers tightened around Lucifer's, a flicker of something guarded in his gaze. "Yes, of course," he replied, his voice low. “They all assure me I am too young for the issue to be from the waist down.” He paused, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. “So it must be from the neck up.”

Lucifer felt his brow furrow. Concern etched all over his face. He slid onto his knees, almost bringing himself to eye level with the taller man.

“Hey, Alastor.” He reached for the younger, for that narrow waist, trying to tug him close. “Look, if you need to talk about this, we can.”

Alastor rolled his eyes. “Do you really want to chat about Catholic guilt, compartmentalization, and grief right now?” He gestured with his free hand to Lucifer’s state of undress and his own state of visible arousal. “I’ve had this problem for a while, no matter the scene or the partner.”

Lucifer's chest tightened at the mention of grief, understanding dawning. He stroked his thumb across the small of Alastor’s back, considering his next words carefully. "Do you want to continue?" he asked softly, searching Alastor's face. "We don't have to if you're not comfortable."

Alastor's expression softened, and he cupped Lucifer's cheek with his free hand. "I do want to, more than anything," he assured him. "But I know bottoms get frustrated, or even feel inadequacy, when they can't make me come. I don't want that for you, Lucifer."

The delicacy in Alastor's hand sent a shiver through Lucifer. But it was nothing compared to how damn considerate he was being. Alastor knew Lucifer’s self-esteem was weak at best. And he was trying to shield him, at his own expense.

He leaned into the caress, his heart swelling with affection for this complex, caring man.

"Thank you, for telling me. I know that couldn’t have been easy," Lucifer murmured, turning his head to press a kiss to Alastor's palm. "But I want you to know, it doesn’t have to be about making you come…I just want to be with you, to make you feel good in whatever way I can."

Alastor's eyes widened slightly at Lucifer's words, a flicker of vulnerability passing over his features before being replaced by a look of profound gratitude.

Slowly, he leaned down, cupping Lucifer's face in both hands as he brought their lips together in a tender kiss.

The kiss was unlike any they had shared before. Where their previous encounters had been marked by passion and urgency, this was slow and achingly sweet. Alastor's lips moved against Lucifer's with deliberate care, as if savoring every moment of contact.

Lucifer's hands came to rest on Alastor's hips, fingers curling into the soft fabric of his pajamas. He could feel the warmth of Alastor's skin through the thin material, grounding them both to the moment. As the rest of the world faded away. The soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window cast everything in a dreamy, ethereal light.

The only sounds were their quiet breaths and the gentle rustle of fabric as they moved together.

Their kisses deepened gradually, tongues meeting in a slow, sensual dance. There was no rush, no frantic need driving them forward.

Lucifer's hands slid up Alastor's back, feeling the lean muscles shift beneath his palms. He marveled at the contrast between Alastor's usual sharp edges and this softer, more vulnerable version of him.

He felt it, when there was a shift in Alastor. The tension that had been holding him rigid began to melt away, his body relaxing into Lucifer's touch.

His kisses became more assured, more present, as if he was fully allowing himself to be in the moment.

"Undress me," Alastor murmured, his voice low and rich with emotion. It wasn't quite an order, but there was a quiet authority in his tone that always left the older man tingling.

Lucifer nodded, slowly rising to his feet. He maintained eye contact with Alastor as he began to remove his clothes, piece by piece. There was no teasing or showmanship in the way he slid the buttons of the satin night shirt apart. Letting the fabric drop to the soft carpet of the bedroom. His pants followed.

Lucifer's breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of Alastor.

The lean lines of his torso were accentuated by the soft moonlight streaming through the window, casting shadows that highlighted every dip and curve of slender muscle. His skin was brown and smooth, marred only by a few scattered scars that spoke of a life lived with intensity.

His collarbone stood out prominently, creating delicate hollows that Lucifer longed to trace with his tongue. Lucifer's eyes followed that tantalizing path, noting the sharp cut of Alastor's hipbones and the lean strength of his thighs.

Despite his earlier admissions, Alastor's arousal was evident, straining against the fabric of his boxers. Lucifer felt a surge of desire, wanting nothing more than to worship every inch of the beautiful man before him.

"Touch me," Alastor commanded softly, his voice low and husky.

Lucifer didn't hesitate.

He reached out, running his hands reverently over Alastor's chest, feeling the warmth of his skin and the steady beat of his heart. His fingers traced the contours of Alastor's abs, gaping at the subtle definition. He explored every plane and angle of Alastor's body, committing each detail to memory.

As his hands roamed lower, skimming along Alastor's sides and coming to rest on his hips, Lucifer felt an overwhelming urge to taste him.

He looked up, meeting Alastor's intense gaze.

"Can I blow you?" Lucifer asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please, I want to make you feel good."

Alastor's eyes darkened with desire. He cupped Lucifer's face gently, thumb brushing across his cheekbone.

"Yes," he breathed. "Yes, you can."

Heart racing, Lucifer settled between Alastor's legs, taking a moment to admire the man's impressive cock.

It had been a while since he'd done this, and he wanted to savor the experience. He started slow, placing soft kisses along Alastor's inner thighs, relishing the slight tremor he felt beneath his lips.

As Lucifer's mouth finally enveloped him, Alastor let out a soft gasp. "Oh, that's…lovely," he murmured, his long fingers threading gently through Lucifer's hair.

Encouraged, Lucifer began to pull out all his tricks–swirling his tongue, varying pressure and speed, using his hand in tandem with his mouth.

He glanced up occasionally, thrilling at the sight of Alastor's head tipped back in pleasure, his chest rising and falling more rapidly.

Alastor's quiet sounds of enjoyment spurred Lucifer on. He redoubled his efforts, determined to bring the younger man to climax. But despite his enthusiasm and technique, that release remained elusive.

"You're doing wonderfully," Alastor breathed, his voice strained but affectionate as he stroked Lucifer's hair. "It feels incredible, truly."

Lucifer pulled back, panting slightly. "But not quite enough?" he asked, unable to keep a hint of disappointment from his voice.

“Darling…”Alastor cooed, obviously trying to soothe him. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Lucifer couldn't help the frustration that bubbled up inside him.

Alastor had been right, and that knowledge stung his pride. But beneath that initial irritation, a fierce determination took root.

He wasn't about to give up so easily.

"We're not done yet," Lucifer declared, his blue eyes flashing with renewed resolve. "I've got more tricks up my sleeve, darling."

Alastor raised an eyebrow, an amused smile playing at his lips. "Is that so? Well, I'm certainly curious to see what else you have in mind."

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Time passed in a blur of heated touches and exploration.

As the night deepened, Lucifer found himself in a decidedly compromising position—legs in the air, practically folded in half as Alastor loomed over him.

"Fuck, yes," Lucifer gasped, all traces of his earlier shyness long gone. Sweat glistened on his skin as Alastor thrust into him relentlessly. "Just like that, don't stop!"

The intensity of the sensation was overwhelming. Lucifer had suggested this position, thinking it might finally push Alastor over the edge.

But as the pleasure built to a crescendo, he realized with a mix of chagrin and ecstasy that he was the one tipped over the edge.

"Alastor—" Lucifer's warning dissolved into a cry of pleasure as his orgasm washed over him, leaving him trembling and breathless.

Alastor's lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he gazed down at Lucifer's flushed face.

The blonde man's chest heaved as he caught his breath, a mix of frustration and lingering pleasure evident in his eyes as Alastor eased him down from being practically folded into a pretzel on the edge of the bed.

"Shut up," Lucifer muttered, unable to meet Alastor's gaze.

“Darling, I didn’t say a thing."

Lucifer took a deep breath, steeling himself before looking up at his partner. "Will you just…fuck me the way you want to?"

Alastor's eyebrows rose slightly. "However I want?" he asked, his voice low and velvety.

Lucifer nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes."

A thrill of anticipation ran through Lucifer's body. He braced himself, half-expecting Alastor to flip him over and take him roughly. To pull out his own tricks with the evident experience he had with deviant and kinky sex.

To his surprise, Alastor gently maneuvered him onto his back.

As Alastor moved over him, Lucifer instinctively wrapped his legs around the slim waist, pulling him closer.

He searched Alastor's face, trying to decipher the unexpected tenderness in his actions.

Alastor leaned in, his breath hot against Lucifer's ear. When he spoke, his voice was low and intense, but still somehow soft.

"You make me want to break my own rules, Lucifer."

Lucifer's heart skipped a beat. He opened his mouth to ask, but Alastor silenced him with a deep, languid thrust that made Lucifer's thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind.

As Alastor continued his slow, steady rhythm, Lucifer managed to find his voice.

"What do you mean by your own rules?" he asked breathlessly, his fingers digging into Alastor's shoulders.

Alastor's dark eyes met Lucifer's, a flicker of vulnerability passing through them.

"I don't let my scene partners touch me," he explained, his voice low and hoarse.

Lucifer hesitated for a moment, suddenly hyper-aware of his hands on Alastor's skin.

Slowly, reluctantly, he dropped his arms from around Alastor's shoulders, letting them fall to the bed.

A fleeting look of disappointment crossed Alastor's face.

In one swift motion, he pinned Lucifer's wrists to the mattress, only to thread their fingers together a moment later.

The intimacy of the gesture gave the older man chills.

"I never do scenes with people I know," Alastor continued, his hips never faltering in their rhythm.

Guilt washed over Lucifer as the weight of Alastor's words sank in. He squeezed Alastor's hands, a mix of emotions swirling in his chest.

"I told you… we shouldn't," he whispered, his voice thick with regret. "But you—"

Before Lucifer could finish, Alastor's lips crashed against his, silencing his doubts.

The kiss was hard, desperate, filled with a longing that took Lucifer's breath away. He melted into it, his body responding instinctively to Alastor's passion.

When they finally broke apart, both were panting.

Alastor's lips ghosted over Lucifer's as he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "And…I never, ever let anyone kiss me."

The admission sent a jolt through Lucifer's body. His mind raced, trying to process the significance of what Alastor was telling him.

A soft whine escaped his throat as realization dawned.

"You've got rules against being…intimate with anyone," Lucifer breathed, his eyes searching Alastor's face.

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with implication. Lucifer's heart pounded in his chest, something he wasn't quite ready to name, threatening to overwhelm him.

"Exactly," Alastor murmured, his voice turned to velvet. His darkened eyes bore into Lucifer's, intense and defenseless. "You make me break all of my rules. You make me…" He paused, seeming to struggle with the words. "You make me want to love you."

The confession hung in the air, heavy and raw. He'd never imagined Alastor capable of such openness, such vulnerability.

Before Lucifer could respond, Alastor ducked his head, burying his face in the crook of Lucifer's neck. The shame was palpable, as if Alastor regretted letting his guard down so completely.

Lucifer couldn't bear to see Alastor retreat.

With a surge of affection, he broke his hands free from Alastor's grip. Gently, he cupped the younger man's face, tilting it up to meet his gaze.

"Alastor," Lucifer whispered, his thumbs caressing those sharp cheekbones. Then, overcome by emotion, he pulled Alastor into a deep, tender kiss. He poured everything he couldn't say into that kiss—his own fears, his growing feelings, his acceptance of Alastor's confession.

After a moment, Alastor made a soft sound against Lucifer's lips—something between a whimper and a sigh. His hips continued their steady rhythm, but his voice was strained when he spoke.

"Tell me…" Alastor panted, the words more plea than command. “Tell me that you want me to stay.”

Lucifer broke the kiss, his breath ragged. His heart swelled with affection and a fierce protectiveness.

Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around the younger man, pulling him close.

"I want you to stay, Alastor," Lucifer breathed, pouring every ounce of sincerity into the words. “With me. As long as you’ll have me.”

As their lips met, Lucifer felt a shudder run through Alastor's body. The younger man's hips stuttered, losing their steady rhythm.

Lucifer gasped into the kiss.

"Oh," Lucifer breathed, breaking the kiss to look up at Alastor in wonder. "You're…you're coming."

Alastor's face was contorted in vulnerability and pleasure, his usual composure completely shattered.

He buried his face in Lucifer's neck, muffling a low groan against his skin.

Lucifer held him tightly, one hand tangling in Alastor's hair while the other stroked soothingly down his back. Awed by the tremors running through Alastor's body, the heat of his breath against his neck.

"That's it," Lucifer murmured, his chest tight with emotion. "Let go, sweetheart. I've got you."

The significance of what had just happened wasn't lost on him. Alastor, who never let himself be vulnerable, who always maintained strict control, had allowed himself this moment of abandon in Lucifer's arms.

"Are you alright?" Lucifer asked softly, pressing a gentle kiss to Alastor's temple.

Alastor lifted his head, meeting Lucifer's gaze. His dark eyes were hazy with bliss, but there was also a hint of wonder there.

"I…yes," Alastor replied, his voice rough.

Lucifer cradled Alastor close, relishing the warm weight of the younger man's body against his own. He could feel Alastor's heart racing, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.

The air around them was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, a heady reminder of what they'd just shared.

“You don't have to pull away.” Lucifer murmured, running his fingers through Alastor's damp hair. “Stay with me."

Alastor remained silent, his face still hidden in the crook of Lucifer's neck. But he didn't move to disentangle himself, and Lucifer took that as a good sign.

The room was bathed in soft moonlight, casting everything in a dreamy, silver glow.

Outside, snow continued to fall silently, blanketing the world in white. It felt as though they were cocooned in their own private universe, separate from the rest of the world.

Lucifer's hands roamed gently over Alastor's back, tracing the contours of lean muscle and the ridges of his spine. He marveled at how different this felt from their previous encounters. The urgency and intensity had given way to something softer, more like making love…if he dared to think it.

Alastor finally lifted his head, meeting Lucifer's gaze. His eyes were soft, vulnerable in a way Lucifer had never seen before.

A stray lock of hair fell across his forehead, and Lucifer reached up to gently brush it away.

"I've never…" Alastor's voice was barely above a whisper. "Not like that."

Lucifer's heart swelled with affection. He cupped Alastor's face in his hands, thumbs gently caressing his cheekbones. "I'm honored," he said softly.

Alastor's lips quirked into a small, almost shy smile. It was so unlike his usual confident smirk that Lucifer felt his breath catch in his throat.

"Stay the night," Lucifer said, not quite a question but not quite a demand either. "Please. I want to fall asleep with you and wake up with you in the morning."

For a moment, Alastor looked uncertain.

Lucifer could almost see the walls trying to rebuild themselves behind his eyes. But then Alastor took a deep breath, visibly relaxing.

"Alright," he murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Lucifer's lips. "I'll stay."

🍂🍁🍃

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#radioapple #radioapple human au #radioapple fic #radioapple smut #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin #dom!alastor #sub!lucifer #top!alastor #bottom!lucifer #AtAutumnsEnd-DarcyDarling

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darcydarlingdabbles · 3 days ago

Text

At Autumn's End ~ Part 6 ~ End

RadioApple🍂Human Au/Age Gap 🍁Top!Dom!Alastor

🍂Divorced Dad!Lucifer🍁Explicit~ 5.8k

AN: Tooth-rottingly sweet, and spicy, ending~

🍂🍁🍃

🍁 On Ao3🍁Read for Free on Ream🍁On Tumblr 🍁

There was no more pretense as Lucifer pulled Alastor into his room after dinner that night.

The gas fireplace roared to life with a flick from the switch on the wall, its warmth and light filling the space as he turned off the remaining lights.

"Lucifer," Alastor said softly, his voice tinged with both curiosity and caution.

But the older man couldn't meet his gaze just yet, his mind still racing from thoughts that had plagued him during dinner.

Lucifer couldn't shake the unsettling revelation about Alastor's dating habits—or lack thereof.

"Alastor," Lucifer finally replied, his voice barely a whisper. He hesitated for a moment, trying to reconcile the conflicting emotions within him.

Lucifer's mind whirled with a dizzying array of thoughts, each one crashing against the other like waves in a tempestuous sea.

The flickering firelight cast dancing shadows across the room, mirroring the turbulent emotions within him. He ran a hand through his blonde hair, acutely aware of Alastor's presence behind him, patient and waiting.

The irony of his situation wasn't lost on him.

He had insisted on discretion, on keeping their…whatever this was…hidden from prying eyes.

Lucifer’s position as Charlie’s recently divorced father, reputation, the potential scandal of dating a student at the university he was on the board of. And yet, hearing that Alastor didn't date, that he hadn't pursued relationships, had sparked something deeply insecure in Lucifer.

It was hypocritical, he knew, to only desperately crave something the moment it was taken off the table .

The room seemed to spin around him, the warm glow of the fire blurring into a haze of orange and gold.

He felt unmoored, adrift in a sea of conflicting desires and obligations. Behind him, he heard Alastor shift, the soft rustle of fabric a reminder of his presence.

"Lucifer," Alastor's voice was gentle, tinged with concern. “I think perhaps we should talk about—”

"Not yet," Lucifer interrupted, finally turning to face the younger man. His eyes held a desperate, almost pleading look. "I need…I need you to help me clear my head first. Please."

Understanding dawned in Alastor's eyes, desire and tenderness softening his features. "What do you want to feel?" he asked, taking a step closer.

Lucifer swallowed hard, his voice rough with emotion. "Grounded. Present. Here, with you, without all the noise in my head."

A small smile played at the corners of Alastor's lips as he closed the distance between them. "I can do that," he murmured, reaching out to cup Lucifer's face in his hands. "Let me take care of you."

And as Alastor's lips met his, Lucifer felt the chaotic thoughts begin to recede, replaced by the intoxicating sensation of being wholly with this man.

Alastor's lips were soft but insistent against Lucifer's, coaxing him to relax into the kiss. His hands slid from Lucifer's face to his shoulders, kneading gently as he deepened the kiss.

Lucifer responded eagerly, his own hands coming up to grasp at Alastor's waist, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt.

The crackling of the fire provided a soothing backdrop as Alastor slowly guided Lucifer backwards until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the plush sofa near the hearth. With gentle pressure, Alastor eased him down into the seat, never breaking the kiss.

The brunette pulled back slightly, his breath warm against Lucifer's lips. "Close your eyes," he whispered. "Focus on what you feel."

The older man obeyed, his eyelids fluttering shut. He felt Alastor move to kneel at the end of the sofa, grabbing Lucifer by the knees and pulling his legs around the brunette’s slender waist.

The younger man's fingers trailed along his jawline, feather-light touches that sent shivers down Lucifer's spine.

Alastor's lips found the blonde’s once more, but this time the kiss was different. He nipped gently at Lucifer's lower lip, alternating between soft bites and soothing licks.

The sensation was electrifying.

As Alastor's mouth moved to explore the sensitive skin of Lucifer's neck, pushing back the collar of his scarlet sweater. His hands found their way to the base of Lucifer's skull. Blunt nails scratched lightly at the nape of his neck, eliciting a low moan from the older man.

Lucifer's hands, which had been resting on Alastor's hips, now moved restlessly across his back, pulling him closer. He clung to Alastor like an anchor to the moment.

The younger’s clever fingers found their way to Lucifer's ears, tracing the shells before applying gentle pressure to the sensitive spots behind them.

Lucifer gasped softly, his head falling back. Alastor took advantage of the exposed column of his throat, trailing kisses and light nips along the sensitive skin.

"Stay with me," Alastor murmured against his pulse point. "Feel my touch, hear my voice. Nothing else matters right now."

And as Alastor continued his ministrations, Lucifer found the chaotic thoughts in his mind fading away, replaced by the intoxicating sensations of Alastor's touch, the warmth of the fire, and the comforting weight of the younger man against his thighs.

For now, at least, he was grounded, present, and completely lost in the moment.

But the heat from the fire was a mere whisper compared to the heat that radiated between them.

"Red is definitely your color," Alastor murmured, his hands exploring the soft cashmere sweater that still clung to Lucifer's frame.

"Are you sure you don't want to…?" Lucifer began, gesturing vaguely at his sweater. "You know, for easier access."

Alastor chuckled, shaking his head and pressing his lips to Lucifer's ear.

"On the contrary," he whispered, "it's like a present to unwrap later."

The anticipation in those words set Lucifer's heart racing. He couldn't wait to see what Alastor had in store for him.

Their eyes locked as Alastor guided Lucifer to stand, pulling the older man’s back against his chest, their feet sinking into the faux-fur rug before the fire.

"Relax," Alastor breathed into Lucifer's ear, his hands continuing their gentle exploration of the other man's body, fingertips tracing lines and patterns through the soft cashmere. "Just let me take care of you."

In the embrace of Alastor's arms, surrounded by the warmth of the fire and the tenderness of his touch, Lucifer found himself surrendering.

He knew that he was exactly where he needed to be.

Alastor's hands continued their tender exploration, tracing lazy patterns across Lucifer's chest and stomach.

The soft cashmere of the sweater heightened every sensation, sending tingles radiating through Lucifer's body. Alastor's breath was warm against his neck as he placed feather-light kisses along the sensitive skin.

The crackling fire cast a golden glow across the room, its warmth enveloping them like a cocoon. Lucifer leaned back, giving his weight to Alastor's sturdy frame. He could feel the younger man's heartbeat quickening against his back, matching the rising tempo of his own.

Alastor's fingers dipped lower, ghosting over Lucifer's hips and thighs.

The touch was maddeningly light, stoking the flames of desire that burned within him. Lucifer's breath hitched as Alastor's hand brushed teasingly close to his growing arousal before retreating again.

The air between them grew thick with longing.

As the moments stretched on, Lucifer's hips rocked back instinctively, seeking the unmistakable evidence of Alastor's desire pressing against the small of his back.

A low moan escaped Lucifer's lips, the sound swallowed by the quiet of the room.

Alastor's hands tightened their grip on Lucifer's hips, pulling him even closer.

With deliberate slowness, Alastor's fingers found the drawstring of Lucifer's pants. He toyed with it for a moment, his touch teasing and light. Then, with a gentle tug, he loosened the knot.

The soft fabric slipped down Lucifer's legs, pooling at his feet and leaving him exposed to the warm air of the room.

Alastor's hand splayed across Lucifer's bare stomach, his touch both possessive and reverent.

The heat between them intensified, desire building to a fever pitch in the silence, broken only by their ragged breathing and the pop and hiss of the fire.

"Is this what you want?" Alastor whispered, his breath hot against the back of Lucifer's neck. With a deft motion, he lifted the hem of the cashmere sweater just enough to expose Lucifer's hard cock, his other hand reaching around to spread his thighs.

"Y-yes," Lucifer stammered, his voice barely more than a breathless sigh.

He couldn't help but lean into Alastor's touch, craving the intimacy that came from being so completely vulnerable with another person.

"Good, now, get on your knees," Alastor commanded gently, his voice low and husky.Lucifer complied, sinking onto the faux fur rug

"Where did we put the lube?" Alastor murmured against Lucifer's ear, his fingers trailing feather-light touches along his spine.

“You don’t have to…” Lucifer swallowed, unsure if it was Alastor or the fireplace making his face so damn hot. “I, prepped, before we…”

“Oh?” the way the younger’s voice lit with amusement did something to the blonde.

“Y-yes I mean, because, we had plans to, I wasn’t assuming—”

Alastor shut him up in an instant with a hand cupping his jaw.

“Hush, you did well.” The brunette’s velvety voice soothed at his temple, just as Lucifer felt his other hand slide from the hem of his sweater—until those blessedly long fingers sank inside of him.

Lucifer gasped, his hips rolling back to the intrusion as his grip sank into the rug.

Part of him knew that Alastor wasn’t just teasing him—he was testing, making sure Lucifer was ready to take him. And the amount of care nearly made him whine more than his hole being stretched.

"You're such a good, sweet boy, Lucifer," he praised, his voice tinged with affection.

His heart swelled with pride at Alastor's words, craving more of the validation that only Alastor could provide.

With a firm grip, Alastor guided Lucifer forward onto his hands and knees, gently bending him over before taking a moment to admire the sight laid out before him.

As he gazed down at Lucifer's body, Alastor couldn't help but marvel at the trust and vulnerability displayed so openly.

"Thank you for trusting me, Lucifer," Alastor whispered reverently, running his fingertips along the curve of Lucifer's spine, eliciting a shiver of pleasure in response.

"Does this mean you'll hurry up and fuck me?" Lucifer asked, his voice breathless and impatient. He couldn't take it any longer; he needed Alastor inside him, filling him completely.

“My, my, aren't we eager?” Alastor chuckled lowly, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he teased, “You'll get what you want. Just be patient.”

Lucifer huffed, trying to keep his restlessness in check, but it was difficult when all he could think about was the pleasure that awaited him. He could feel Alastor's strong hands on his hips, gripping him firmly and guiding him into position.

As Alastor slicked himself by rutting against Lucifer's prepared hole, the anticipation became nearly unbearable. When he finally pushed his cock inside, Lucifer let out a choked gasp.

It was surreal, being on his hands and knees in front of the fireplace, being fucked by a man half his age. But there was no denying Alastor's power, his strength and control evident in every movement. The way he bunched up Lucifer's sweater and used it le to tug him back onto his cock.

Lucifer could only think of how incredible it was to submit to Alastor, to give himself over so completely to another person.

Alastor's thrusts were deep and measured, each one sending waves of pleasure coursing through Lucifer's body. Demanding every ounce of the blonde’s attention.

The older man's fingers curled into the soft fur of the rug, seeking purchase as the younger’s hips snapped forward relentlessly.

Lucifer could feel the heat of the flames on his skin, rivaled only by the scorching touch of Alastor's hands as they roamed his body.

"You're doing so well," Alastor murmured, his voice a low, velvety purr. "Taking me so perfectly."

Lucifer whimpered in response, unable to form coherent words as Alastor's cock struck that perfect spot inside him again and again.

His own neglected prick hung heavy between his legs, dripping precum onto the rug below.

As Alastor's pace increased, Lucifer found himself sinking lower, his chest pressing against the plush wool. The new angle dragged a strangled moan from Lucifer's lips.

"That's it," Alastor encouraged, his fingers digging into the blonde’s hips. "Let me hear you."

Lucifer's world narrowed to the exquisite sensations Alastor was drawing from his body. The stretch and fullness as Alastor's cock plunged into him, the burning pleasure that radiated from his core, the slick sounds of their coupling mingling with the crackling fire—it was all-consuming.

In this moment, there was no room for doubt or insecurity. No space for the worries that had plagued him earlier. There was only Alastor, and the dominating pleasure he provided.

Lucifer caught sight of their reflection in the darkened window. The image was hazy, distorted by the firelight, but unmistakable. He saw himself, flushed and wanton, soft thighs and hips covered with crescent-shaped bruises, being thoroughly claimed by Alastor.

The visual, with a particularly deep thrust from Alastor proved to be Lucifer's undoing. He came with a cry, painting the rug beneath him.

"You're incredible." Alastor breathed, his voice filled with awe and praise. "Coming just from my cock inside you."

Lucifer shuddered through the aftershocks of his orgasm, his body clenching around Alastor's still-hard length.

"Please," he gasped, "don't stop. Keep going. I want to feel you come inside me."

"Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" Alastor teased, though there was clear affection in his tone. He leaned down to press a searing kiss to Lucifer's shoulder.

As Alastor resumed his pace, Lucifer struggled to catch his breath, his body trembling from the intensity of the experience.

He should have gotten the cock ring. But then again, maybe it wouldn't have mattered. With Alastor, every touch felt like electricity, every whisper like a siren song.

“Yes…please…use me.”

Lucifer reveled in the overstimulation and intensity of Alastor's relentless touch. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but he couldn't bring himself to care, lost in the torrent of pleasure and desire that each thrust brought.

"Would you like that?" Alastor asked, voice husky and low. "To be my toy? To give me what I need?"

Lucifer's heart pounded in his chest, emotions swirling like a storm within him. He worked through the haze of sensation to nod, barely able to form words.

Alastor leaned over Lucifer's back, pressing hot kisses against his spine. "You want to be my toy, Lucifer? Just for me?"

With a shaky breath, Lucifer nodded again. "Yes, just for you."

"Good," Alastor grinned wickedly, nipping at the tender skin of Lucifer's neck. "Because I don't share my toys."

Lucifer's heart raced, hope kindling within him. He dared to believe that Alastor's words held a promise of something more than just this scene.

"Let me see all of you," Alastor whispered, his voice rough with desire.

Carefully, he peeled the red cashmere sweater off Lucifer, revealing the pale skin beneath. Lucifer shivered under his gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable, but craving the intimacy they were forging together.

"Here," Alastor said, bunching up the discarded sweater and placing it under Lucifer's hips. This new angle allowed Alastor to pin him down against the plush fur rug with a hand between his shoulders.

Alastor's weight settled over Lucifer, pressing him firmly into the plush fur rug. The soft fibers tickled Lucifer's sensitive skin as Alastor covered him completely, chest to back, hips to thighs.

Lucifer reveled in the feeling of being utterly dominated, pinned and helpless beneath the younger man's lean strength.

"Is this what you wanted?" Alastor growled, his breath hot against Lucifer's ear. "To be held down and fucked like this?"

"Yes," Lucifer gasped, his voice muffled by the rug. "Fuck, yes."

Alastor's hips snapped forward, driving his cock deep into Lucifer's willing body.

His spent cock twitched valiantly, trapped between his body and the bunched-up sweater beneath him. The friction of the soft cashmere against his sensitive flesh was exquisite torture, coaxing him slowly back to hardness despite his recent orgasm.

"More," Lucifer pleaded, arching his back as much as he could in his pinned position. "Please, Alastor, mark me again."

A low chuckle rumbled through Alastor's chest. "So greedy," he teased, but there was affection in his tone. "But since you asked so nicely…"

Alastor's teeth grazed the junction of Lucifer's neck and shoulder, sending shivers across his skin. Then, without warning, he bit down hard, sucking a dark bruise into the pale skin.

Lucifer cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure that left him dizzy with want.

"Again," he begged, pushing back against Alastor's relentless thrusts. "Please."

Alastor obliged, peppering Lucifer's shoulders and the back of his neck with bites and kisses. Each mark was a brand, a claim, a reminder that in this moment, Lucifer belonged entirely to Alastor.

The room filled with the sounds—skin against skin, breathless moans, and the steady crackle of the fire.

The scent of sweat and sex.

Lucifer's world narrowed to the points where their bodies connected.

Alastor's cock stretching him open, the weight of the younger man on his back, the sting of fresh marks blooming across his skin.

He felt owned, possessed, cherished in a way he'd never experienced before.

With a swift, fluid motion, Alastor pulled away. Before Lucifer could lament the loss, the younger flipped him onto his back, making him groan as he slid back inside him.

"Look at me," Alastor commanded softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Alastor," Lucifer murmured, wrapping his legs around Alastor's waist, pulling him closer. He could feel every inch of Alastor's lean body against his own, the heat of their skin mingling together as they moved.

"Tell me how it feels," Alastor urged, his lips ghosting over Lucifer's as they shared gentle, all-consuming kisses. His hips continued to drive forward, filling Lucifer completely in the most ordinary, yet intimate, position.

"So good…you're so good to me," Lucifer confessed, his arms encircling Alastor's shoulders.

"Damn right," Alastor growled possessively, nipping at Lucifer's bottom lip. "You're mine."

The words echoed within Lucifer, sending shivers down his spine and igniting a warmth deep inside him.

“I’m yours.”

Alastor's thrusts faltered, his rhythm stuttering at Lucifer's words.

For a moment, the younger man's carefully crafted composure cracked, revealing a flash of vulnerability in his eyes. It was as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd heard, or perhaps he was afraid to.

Lucifer saw the flicker of emotions cross Alastor's face, a the hope and uncertainty that made his own heart ache.

Without hesitation, he reached up, cupping Alastor's face in his hands. His thumbs brushed gently across the younger man's cheekbones.

Lucifer saw the questions in Alastor's gaze, the hesitation, the fear of allowing himself to believe.

The blonde pulled him down, pressing their lips together in a kiss that was slow, deep, and achingly intimate.

It wasn't the frenzied, passionate kisses they'd shared before. This was something different, something more.

Lucifer poured everything he felt into that kiss

He tasted the salt of sweat on Alastor's lips, breathed in the scent of his skin, felt the rapid beating of Alastor's heart against his own chest.

Alastor responded in kind, his lips moving against Lucifer's with an affection that belied his earlier intensity. His hands, which had been gripping Lucifer's hips, now moved to caress his sides, fingers tracing patterns on heated skin.

When they finally broke apart, both men were breathless. Alastor rested his forehead against Lucifer's, their noses brushing.

For a moment, they simply breathed together, sharing the same air, existing in the same space.

Then, with deliberate slowness, Alastor began to move again. His thrusts were unhurried, each one deep and purposeful. He rolled his hips in a steady tempo, bringing out every sensation, making Lucifer feel every inch of him.

The older man gasped, his back arching off the rug. The change of pace was exquisite torture, building pleasure in a slow, inexorable wave. He could feel every drag of Alastor's cock inside him, every brush against his prostate sending sparks of pleasure through his body.

Shadows played across Alastor's face, highlighting the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the curve of his lips. Lucifer drank in the sight, committing every detail to memory.

Lucifer's legs tightened around Alastor's waist, pulling him impossibly closer. His hands roamed across Alastor's back.

"Promise me something, Lucifer," Alastor said softly, his breath warm against Lucifer's ear. “This won't be our last night together.”

“I promise,” Lucifer vowed, clutching to the younger man. “We'll find a way to make it work, no matter what.”

Lucifer could feel the younger man's muscles tensing, his breathing growing ragged. He knew Alastor was close.

"I want to feel you come inside me," Lucifer whispered, running his fingers through Alastor's hair.

With a low groan, Alastor buried himself deep inside Lucifer.

The older man gasped as he felt Alastor's cock pulse, flooding him with warmth. The sensation of being filled, coupled with the look of pure bliss on Alastor's face, pushed Lucifer over the edge once more.

Less intense, but no less satisfying.

Lucifer's body trembled, his inner walls clenching around Alastor's still-hard length. He clung to the younger man, riding out the aftershocks as pleasure coursed through every nerve.

As their breathing slowly returned to normal, neither made a move to separate. The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over their entwined forms.

Lucifer reveled in the weight of Alastor's body on top of him, the way their sweat-slicked skin stuck together.

He could feel Alastor's heartbeat against his chest, gradually slowing to match his own.

Alastor nuzzled into the crook of Lucifer's neck, placing gentle kisses along the marks he'd left earlier.

Lucifer's hands roamed over Alastor's back, mapping the contours of his muscles, the dip of his spine. He marveled at how perfectly they fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle finally united.

The world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them wrapped in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow of their shared pleasure. Lucifer felt more content, more at peace than he had in years.

🍂🍁🍃

The morning light filtered through the bare branches, casting long shadows across the sodden carpet of fallen leaves. Where pristine white snow had blanketed the landscape just days ago, now only patches of dirty slush remained.

The chalet stood proud amidst the stark beauty, its warm wooden exterior a stark contrast to the bare forest. Only the evergreens retained their vibrant colors, stoic sentinels guarding against the encroaching winter.

Inside, Lucifer leaned against the doorframe of the bedroom, watching Alastor methodically fold his clothes and place them in his suitcase. The younger man's efficiency both impressed and saddened him.

Each item packed was another step closer to goodbye.

"You know," Lucifer said, his voice tinged with forced lightness, "I'm beginning to think I might be a bit clingy."

Alastor paused, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Oh? What gives you that impression?"

"Oh, I don't know. Perhaps it's the way I've been hovering around you all morning." Lucifer chuckled, running a hand through his golden hair.

"I hadn't noticed," Alastor replied, his tone teasing. He resumed his packing, but Lucifer didn't miss the pleased glint in his eyes.

The older man’s heart clenched.

He wanted to reach out, to pull Alastor close and beg him to stay. But he knew that wasn't fair. The kids had to return to college. Their classes started tomorrow.

This idyllic bubble they'd created couldn't last forever.

"It's going to be awfully quiet around here without you all," Lucifer admitted, hating how he sounded.

Alastor zipped up his suitcase and turned to face Lucifer fully. "Well," he said, his voice low and rich, "I suppose you'll just have to find ways to occupy yourself until I can come up here again."

Lucifer's breath caught at the promise in those words. He stepped forward, drawn inexorably into Alastor's orbit.

"I'm sure I can think of a few ideas," he murmured, his eyes never leaving Alastor's.

Lucifer's hand reached out, fingers brushing Alastor's arm.

His voice wavered slightly as he asked, "So this, isn’t really good bye, is it?"

Alastor's expression softened, a rare genuine smile replacing his usual smirk. He placed his hand over Lucifer's, squeezing gently. "My dear, you couldn't keep me away if you tried."

Relief flooded through Lucifer, but he needed more. "You promise?"

"I promise," Alastor said firmly. He pulled Lucifer closer, their foreheads almost touching. "I'll visit on weekends when Charlie isn't here. We'll make time for each other."

Lucifer closed his eyes, savoring the warmth of Alastor's proximity. "I'll hold you to that," he whispered.

"I expect nothing less," Alastor chuckled, his breath ghosting over Lucifer's lips. "After all, I find myself quite…attached to you as well."

Lucifer's heart soared at the admission.

The blonde sighed, reluctantly pulling back from Alastor's embrace. "Good," he said softly, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips. "I know, I mean, we both know this has to stay secret, though."

Alastor's eyes narrowed slightly. "Ah yes, discretion is the better part of valor, as they say," he replied, his tone light but with an undercurrent of resignation.

"I don’t like it either," Lucifer admitted, running a hand through his hair. "But I’m on the board at your school, Alastor." He paced the room, his agitation evident in every step. “You can see why this would, cause issues, in our circles?”

Alastor watched him, head tilted in curiosity. "I take it there's more to this than mere social standing?"

Lucifer stopped, turning to face Alastor with a pained expression. "It's Charlie," he said softly. "I mean, the way people talk about her being my daughter."

"How do you mean?" Alastor prompted, his interest piqued.

"They whisper," Lucifer explained, his voice tight with frustration. "They say she bought her way in, that she doesn't deserve her place at the school. As if my brilliant, talented daughter needs any help from me to succeed."

Alastor's eyes flashed dangerously. "Fools," he muttered. "Anyone with half a brain can see Charlie's potential."

Lucifer nodded, a proud smile briefly replacing his frown. "But that's the curse of being a Morningstar. People see the name…and they doubt."

Lucifer's expression darkened further as he approached Alastor, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"And for you, it would be infinitely worse. The vultures would circle, whispering that you're only with me to climb the ladder. They'd question your every achievement, your every success."

A mischievous glint appeared in Alastor's eyes, his grin widening.

He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "Oh, but darling, little do they know..." His hand trailed down Lucifer's chest teasingly. "You're the one climbing me."

Lucifer's eyes widened, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks. He sputtered at Alastor's brazen comment. "I…you…that's not…"

Alastor threw his head back and laughed.

"My, my," he purred, "I do so enjoy seeing you all flustered, darling."

Lucifer struggled to regain his dignity, adjusting his collar and clearing his throat.

"You're incorrigible," he muttered, but there was no real heat in his words. Despite himself, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Alastor's playful demeanor shifted, his smile faltering for a moment as he searched Lucifer's face.

The change was subtle, but the blonde noticed immediately.

"Lucifer," Alastor began, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. "This secrecy, it's not because you're…embarrassed to be seen with me?"

Lucifer's heart clenched at the uncertainty in Alastor's voice. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around the younger man and pulling him close.

"How could I ever be ashamed of you?"

Alastor relaxed slightly in Lucifer's embrace, but remained silent, waiting.

"If I had my way," Lucifer continued, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on Alastor's back, "I'd have you on my arm at every tedious charity gala, every mind-numbing event. I'd show you off to the world."

A low chuckle rumbled through Alastor's chest. "Even the boring ones?" he teased, some of his usual spark returning.

"Especially the boring ones," Lucifer affirmed. "You'd make them infinitely more bearable."

Alastor pulled back slightly, a genuine smile replacing his earlier uncertainty. He cupped Lucifer's face in his hands, studying him for a moment before leaning in to press a tender kiss to his lips.

Lucifer's fingers tightened in the fabric of Alastor's shirt.

"I hate that you felt you had to ask that," Lucifer whispered, his voice barely audible. "You deserve so much better than that. It kills me to think I've made you doubt yourself."

Alastor's expression softened, his eyes searching Lucifer's face. He brought a hand up to gently caress the blonde's cheek, his thumb tracing the worry lines etched there.

"Darling," Alastor began, his voice low and soothing, "we don't need to fret about this right away, do we?"

He chuckled, a rich, warm sound that seemed to fill the room.

"Not that I would know. My experience is, shall we say, limited?"

Lucifer couldn't help but smile at Alastor's self-deprecating humor—a new side to him, compared to his confidence.

Alastor leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to Lucifer's forehead. The gentle gesture, so at odds with Alastor's usual sharp tongue and calculated movements, made Lucifer's heart skip a beat.

"But isn't that what relationships are about?" Alastor mused, his breath warm against Lucifer's skin. "Being…open with each other? About new things?"

As he spoke, Alastor's fingers trailed down Lucifer's arm, intertwining their hands.

He pulled back slightly, meeting Lucifer's gaze with a mischievous glint in his eye. "And in the meantime, well…I rather enjoy the thrill of our little secret. The stolen glances across crowded rooms, the brush of hands when no one's looking. It's exciting, don't you think?"

Lucifer laughed, the tension in his shoulders easing. "You make it sound like a delightful little tryst," he said, shaking his head fondly.

Alastor's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Why not make it fun?" he suggested, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "A shared secret between us, exchanging glances across a crowded room…clandestine rendezvous in forgotten corners of the campus."

Lucifer chuckled, shaking his head. "Who would have thought, Alastor has a flair for the dramatic.”

"Me, dramatic? Perish the thought," Alastor said, his grin widening. "Stolen kisses behind shelves in the rare books section. Hushed conversations in empty classrooms, always with one ear tuned for approaching footsteps."

He stepped closer to Lucifer, his voice dropping to a sultry purr.

"The thrill of almost being caught, hearts racing, pulses pounding. Every moment becomes an adventure, every touch electric with the knowledge that it's forbidden."

Lucifer's breath caught at the images Alastor was painting. He could almost feel the adrenaline rush—making feel like a damn teenager again.

Alastor's expression softened slightly, his hand coming up to cup Lucifer's cheek. "And at the end of the day, after all the games and secrets and thrilling near-misses," he murmured, "we come home to each other. No pretenses, no hiding."

He leaned in, his forehead resting against Lucifer's.

"So long as we always come home to each other," Alastor whispered, "what's the harm in keeping a secret?”

“A tantalizing little love affair, huh?” Lucifer leaned up to Alastor, his eyes closing as he nodded. “Just for now.”

Alastor’s lips were on his in agreement, and Lucifer’s arms were finding their way around his shoulders, considering making the younger late for the stat of classes tomorrow—

A sharp honk pierced the air, shattering the intimate moment. Lucifer's head snapped toward the sound, his hands reluctantly falling from Alastor's face.

Through the window, he could see Charlie and Vaggie in the car, packed and ready to go.

"Ah," Alastor said, a wry smile twisting his lips. "It seems our time is up, my dear."

Lucifer's heart clenched as he followed Alastor to the front door, each step feeling heavier than the last.

He lingered in the doorway, unable to bring himself to fully cross the threshold. The chill late-autumn air nipped at his skin, but it was nothing compared to the cold dread settling in his stomach.

"I guess…this is goodbye," Lucifer murmured, his voice catching slightly on the last word. He cursed inwardly at how desperate he was to cling to these last few moments.

Alastor turned back, his hazel eyes softening as they met Lucifer's.

"Just for now," he assured, his voice low and warm. He took a step towards the car, then paused, as if torn between staying and going.

Lucifer watched, his chest tight, as Alastor hesitated. Part of him wanted to reach out, to pull Alastor back into his arms and never let go. But he knew he couldn't. He had to let him go, had to trust that this wouldn't be the end.

Suddenly, Alastor spun on his heel, a mischievous glint in his eye. He strode back to Lucifer with purpose.

Charlie and Vaggie watched from the car, their eyes widening as Alastor reached out, grasping Lucifer's sweater in his slender fingers.

"One last thing," Alastor purred, pulling Lucifer close.

Before Lucifer could react, Alastor's lips were on his, passionate and unrestrained.

The kiss was deep, almost defiant in its openness.

Lucifer's surprise melted away as he returned the kiss, his arms instinctively wrapping around Alastor's waist.

As they parted, Lucifer couldn't help the wide smile that spread across his face. All previous doubts temporarily forgotten.

He caught sight of Charlie in the car, grinning from ear to ear.

Alastor, seemingly unfazed by the audience, simply brushed off Charlie's reaction with a casual wave of his hand as he sauntered back to the vehicle.

"Until next time, darling," Alastor called over his shoulder, his voice tinged with promise.

Lucifer stood rooted to the spot, watching as Vaggie started the engine and began to drive away. His fingers unconsciously traced his lips, still tingling from Alastor's kiss.

As the car disappeared down the winding road, Lucifer's smile softened into something more wistful.

"Until next time," he whispered to himself, already counting the days.

As Lucifer turned to walk back into the chalet, his mind lingered on Alastor.

He absently rubbed his neck, feeling the slight tenderness of a hidden mark beneath his collar. A shiver of pleasure ran through him as he recalled how it got there.

"Damn that man," Lucifer muttered, a mixture of fondness and frustration in his voice. He paused at the threshold, glancing back at the now-empty driveway.

His thoughts drifted to their next encounter, wondering if the bruises would still be visible. His fingers ghosted over the various marks Alastor had left on his skin. Part of him hoped they would be, a secret reminder of their passionate weekend.

But another part of him—a more possessive, hungry part—wished for them to fade.

"If they're gone," Lucifer smirked, "I'll just have to make sure he gives me new ones."

He chuckled to himself, imagining Alastor's reaction to such a request.

"Oh, the things you do to me," Lucifer sighed, finally stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

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