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In all the years since his fall, Lucifer never thought he would be formally invited to one of the sacrifices made in his name.
Or something to that effect.
The group of people who were going to perform the act in his name fell in line with a wealthy family who, over the past hundred years, had built up an entire coven dedicated to worshipping Lucifer in exchange for their family's wealth, health, and other more obscure favors to preserve the power they held over the town where their main home was located.
And Lucifer had watched them from the beginning, now prompted to listen and obey what the humans asked of him, given the right conditions, of course. And this family had never failed to deliver, eventually building an altar in his name in the main dining room, which never lacked an offering: expensive wine, jewelry, platters of lamb, apples, and other delicacies.
Lucifer had grown accustomed to their presence, the offerings always arriving in pristine condition, and what he appreciated most was the delightful way they presented the lamb, because a bloodied and rotting animal on his table had never been enchanting to find.
And now he found an invitation sitting at his receiving end of the altar, it had his sigil in gold foil along with other ornate swirling details and sealed with a red wax stamp of a snake around an apple. Appreciating the effort, he tucked the wax into one of his drawers and flipped open the letter to read it.
The message was simple, the family warmly invited him to witness their first human sacrifice in his name, a celebration that would take place on Hallow's Eve, with a grand masquerade ball preceding the main event.
It all seemed very alluring, except for the human sacrifice part, he regretted ever adding that section to his grimoire, it was rather hasty, his initial naivety thinking that no one would dare perform such an act for the possibility of receiving aid. But he had never been more wrong, and even if he had tried to erase such a spell, humanity had already managed to spread it. In the end, all that was left was for him to accept it, and fortunately, that became more difficult as time went on, so that it was rarely attempted.
Such as this.
He just had to leave before the ceremony.
༻ᨒ༺ ༻ᨒ༺༻ᨒ༺
Lucifer arrived at the already busy gothic palace, the architecture filled with pointed arches and intricate stonework, it had a tall spire in the center with smaller turrets around it. It was magnificent under the full moon, the details of the windows shining beneath the light.
One by one the carts arrived, people being escorted to the door by the staff, all dressed in elaborate gowns and suits, with masks adorning their faces in various shapes of animals, insects or extravagant anthropomorphic designs in all shades of red, gold, black, silver and white.
Lucifer came down from his carriage, dressed all in white, wearing a white blouse with a high neckline and ruffled cuffs that cascaded down his wrists. Over this he wore a waistcoat with a decorative button, lace trim and intricate gold patterns. The slacks were high waisted, fitting tightly at the top and then falling gracefully, and it was all complemented by a waistband with lace detailing and four gold buttons.
And to top it all off, Lucifer had donned a mask adorned with six sculpted wings, feathers accentuated with gold edging, delicately layered and textured, extending outward from the sides so that his eyes appeared to be winged.
If anything, he resembled an angel, and this was partly intentional, because while he had decided to attend, he would not present himself as the devil, as it would turn into another ball of Hell, both literally and figuratively. People would be on their feet praising his name throughout the night, turning the event into a worship session, and he wanted to enjoy his time here, to be among people without recognition.
Which led him to the choice of outfit, a reversal of his present nature, to dress as the angel he once was, decorated with golden details and the finest of whites, colors of luxury and purity, as the former angel of beauty and joy once proudly paraded through the golden streets of Heaven, and he even added the touch of turning his eyes his old periwinkle for the evening.
He moved forward and with a graceful snap of his fingers, both staff and guards ignored the request for his invitation and simply escorted him inside.
༻ᨒ༺ ༻ᨒ༺ ༻ᨒ༺
The ballroom resembled a cathedral, with a high vaulted ceiling and pointed arches; the walls and columns were richly decorated with intricate carving patterns, and a large ornate chandelier hung prominently from the ceiling. On the whole, the lights inside were dim, but the brightness of the full moon illuminated the entire room from the arched stained glass windows lining the wall, aided by a metal-framed skylight.
And in one of the corners was an altar, the style of which one might find in any church, framed in black marble and rising from the floor to nearly touch the ceiling, blending in with the architecture around it. It was heavily decorated with intricate golden patterns and carvings alluding to the story of his fall, such as the apple, snakes, the tree and symbols of evil. In the center, mounted on the wall, was a goat's skull, its two horns long and unnaturally curved, gilded in gold leaf, with Lucifer's seal carved directly into the bone, the incised marks filled with a dark crimson substance.
At the bottom was a table covered with a crimson cloth that cascaded down to the floor, and on it a banquet laid out in sacrifice, delicate meats and luxurious wines served in golden chalices, trays of various fruits and desserts carefully arranged like a painting, candles of all sizes illuminating the table, with jewelry and figurines placed among the plates by the guests as they arrived.
At the sight, Lucifer regretted for a moment that he wasn't at home to enjoy the offerings, but he was also fascinated by the whole ambience, the musicians playing a variety of music, people moving quickly to the slow rhythm, picking up the pace and waltzing around the room, some people were doing a quadrille and sometimes the whole room was performing a cotillion.
Lucifer quickly joined in, many women and men approaching him for a dance as soon as he entered the hall, and he gladly accepted, leading or following, he always enjoyed turning and swirling in the music.
And for the first time he felt relaxed, conversing with people of science and the occult, learning about the current events of the world and not having people overstep his boundaries or engage in fake discussions to gain something in their favor. Lucifer could dance, talk and eat without the pressure of being observed or analyzed by those who wanted his power.
It was the most humane evening of his life.
༻ᨒ༺ ༻ᨒ༺ ༻ᨒ༺
The cart arrived a little later than Alastor had expected, which meant he would be delayed at the ball, but it didn't matter, he wouldn't be missed that much.
As long as he got there.
He descended slowly from the carriage and was received with honor, the leader called to greet him and praise his appearance.
He was dressed in a white shirt decorated with lace and ruffled cuffs, a black lace cravat around his neck, and an elaborate brooch: a red gem in the shape of an apple with a golden snake wrapped around it, perfect for the occasion. Over this he wore a fitted black waistcoat with an intricate brocade pattern and ornate copper buttons, and draped over one shoulder was a black cloak, also decorated with black lace and delicate beadwork. His slacks were simple but elegant, ornamented by a golden chain around his waist, complemented by tassels hanging from one side, which swayed with his movements.
And the mask for the evening was one of his finest works. It was black, carved with elaborate patterns, but had two golden horns, curved upwards and adorned with metallic accents, resembling those of a demon. He had also added golden decorations in swirling designs that formed the sigil of Lucifer and then sprouted into two smaller horns underneath the larger ones.
Alastor continued to greet the other leaders one by one, engaging them in mindless conversation about the evening and the schedule. They wanted to be certain about when things would happen and how. Alastor made a mental note of everything and assured them one last time of his attendance.
Then he was escorted to the ballroom, it was certainly beautiful, he had never been to this part of the castle before, so it was intriguing. He walked past the altar and left his offering, a replica of his brooch, next to a tray of apple tartlets, before moving to the floor.
And as soon as people saw his mask, they began to gather around him, congratulating him on his work and asking all sorts of questions about the night. He didn't feel bothered or exposed, he knew how to interact with crowds, so he spoke pleasantly to each of them for a brief moment before excusing himself to take something from the guests' table.
Once he had a cup of wine and some grapes, he stood aside and watched the people dance, socialize, and worship at the altar. He had never been a fan of such displays of devotion, he was a believer of course, the devil offered more comfort than any other god the churches approached, a way of gaining knowledge and improving yourself rather than blindly believing that riches and opportunities would rain down the more you prayed.
You had to work for it, and Lucifer would be there to guide you.
Which made today's event all the more alluring: they were going to petition Lucifer to bless the entire coven with health, as a great sickness had swept through the town. It was a fairly major request, but the family had proven themselves to be completely healthy throughout the entire epidemic, so many, including himself, believed in the possibility.
He continued to watch the crowd when something, or rather someone, caught his eye.
A man was dancing gracefully on the floor, his movements clean and elegant despite the clumsiness of his partner. Alastor's eyes followed the man as he continued to sweep across the floor, dressed in all white with blonde hair moving freely with every turn, the angelic mask and feathers making those curious periwinkle eyes sparkle with joy.
Alastor moved across the room as the man moved, following his every move, fascinated by the presence of the other. He was intrigued, especially since he had never seen such a man in the coven before, and besides, he had made almost all the masks for the guests and not one of them was of an angelic nature. If anything, it was such a lack of respect on their part to show up dressed as an angel.
He watched as the man concluded a dance and walked away.
Alastor pursued him, curiosity getting the better of him.
༻ᨒ༺ ༻ᨒ༺ ༻ᨒ༺
A few hours passed and Lucifer stepped aside from the crowd, grabbing a cup of wine from one of the waiters and leaning against a pillar, sipping quietly for a moment.
He felt someone approaching, but he didn't mind, concentrating on the taste of the rich liquid in his paladar.
"Quite an evening, isn't it?" a melodious voice said.
Lucifer kept his eyes on the crown, "It's been pleasant, yes," he said before turning to face the man.
He was immediately drawn to him, the black of the other man's suit complimenting his figure and accentuating his features, the cloak falling gracefully from his shoulders. But what caught Lucifer's attention was the mask the man wore, the horns and detail were impeccable, and they resembled his own, the markings precise and it all came together with those amber eyes behind the mask, those brown curls and that golden caramel skin.
He looked stunning and the mask was unique among the participants, not one of them remembered using anything resembling the demonic as if it was taboo to idolize his name by wearing his image.
"Something on my vest, sir?" the man asked.
Lucifer jumped, not realizing he was staring.
"Ah, my apologies, your mask is quite beautiful, truly marvelous craftsmanship," he commented.
The other man smiled back and Lucifer felt himself being drawn in even more, his chest fluttering at the sight before him.
"Well, thank you, sir! The craft was all mine," the man replied pleasantly.
"Really? Well, congratulations then. Are you a member of the main family?" Lucifer asked.
The other man hummed in thought, "Sort of, I've made many people's masks for tonight's event, so you could say I'm a special guest," he expressed, his brown curls bouncing as he tilted his head and smiled.
And he was drawn to the way the other man expressed himself when he spoke, the way the soft tones of his voice danced through the air, intoning each word with a rich timbre that quickly became his favorite sound, and wanted him to keep talking.
"So you're the devil, then?" Lucifer decided to tease in addition to satiating his curiosity "Your mask is quite unique among the crowd," he expressed.
The man chuckled, "Ha! How charming," he said, then leaned into Lucifer's vision, "If anyone stands out, it is you, petit ange, a bold choice among the devil worshippers, I must say," he remarked, meticulously ignoring the question and scanning the details of his mask.
Lucifer followed closely, taking a careful look at the mask as well, but his gaze quickly drifted down to those lips he was beginning to find alluring, thinking how the persona suited the man, a temptation worthy of being called the Devil.
Then he snorted as he realized the sudden connection in their masks, "We seem to be a match then, ange et diable, lumière et ténèbres, le bien et le mal," he crooned to the other and the man leaned back in amusement.
"Shall we dance, to ruffle the crowds then, mon ange,?" the man said, holding out his hand with a broad smile, his eyes gleaming in the light.
Lucifer trembled with delight at the term of endearment and placed his hand on the other's palm, "Of course, mon diable," he replied in a low voice.
And then the human dragged him onto the dance floor.
They both glided across the floor in a graceful waltz, the man taking the lead due to his height and placing a firm but gentle hand on Lucifer's back, guiding him through each smooth movement. Lucifer rested his hands on the other shoulder and took the other, quickly following. Their movements quickly synchronized with the music, the man's cloak swaying as they swept across the floor. The music echoed through the room, picking up the tempo as their dance intensified, adding various dips and turns, their bodies connecting with each step, moving effortlessly as if they had been partners for a long time.
Lucifer's eyes never left the other's, not even when he was being twirled outwards, he was entranced by the man in front of him, he wanted to keep the dance going for as long as they could, into endless movement, bound together by the rhythm of the music and the warmth of the connection.
It was strange for him to fall so quickly, years of solitude and seeking companionship only for carnal pleasure, yet this man was like a magnet, pulling him closer, urging him to discover more, to take off the mask and see him for the man he was.
He wanted more.
Suddenly the music ended, and a slow new melody began.
"Would you like to see the garden mon ange?" the man asked and Lucifer grinned, thankful that the other had somehow read his thoughts.
"Show me the way mon diable."
The man took his hand, and they walked through the crowd to the back of the castle.
༻ᨒ༺ ༻ᨒ༺ ༻ᨒ༺
There was no light in the gardens, only moonlight, and they were designed in a circular layout with a plinth of decorative planting surrounded by a neatly paved circular pathway. Above it, a metal structure arched gracefully, with rodes converging at the center to form a canopy, where various plants intertwined to create the illusion of a green, natural roof.
Lucifer sat next to Alastor on one of the wooden benches, surrounded by the garden's prominent purple lilac.
Once they were away from the crowd, they started talking about almost everything, as if he had encountered a long lost friend. They introduced themselves and he had to use the alias he had adopted for the night: Luce. He had used it all night, but with the man he now knew as Alastor, he felt he didn't have to lie, he even told him real stories, changing details to make his life seem human.
And Alastor did not hold back, telling him how he had grown up in the city, how his family had never been fond of the cult that ruled the streets, but he had always found it intriguing, and when he was approached one day to make a mask for a ball, he began to get more and more involved with the coven.
Lucifer listened intently, taking in every word, every sound and intonation, the way Alastor's eyes and mouth moved.
And when he removed his mask to explain the details of its construction, Lucifer was entranced, the caramel skin now fully exposed, the brown curls cascading delicately down his face, the small, upturned nose a perfect complement to the sharp features of his bone structure.
He felt the sudden urge to kiss him.
༻ᨒ༺ ༻ᨒ༺ ༻ᨒ༺
"Would you let me see yours from up close?" Alastor asked, intrigued as he had already revealed his, not that it was a secret known to everyone at the ball, it was merely the entertainment for the evening. Still, in this moment of privacy, he felt exposed.
Luce nodded, "Oh, certainly, here," and Alastor observed as Luce carefully untied the white ribbon that held it in place, then placed both palms against the wings on his face and allowed it to drop.
Alastor caught his breath.
For if he had thought the man's disguise was angelic, he was now more than certain that an angel had descended from the heavens as a spy to monitor the events and report back to the Almighty. Still, he had decided to make a detour and gracefully grant him his company.
He knew Luce's skin was alabaster, the feathers almost melting into his skin, but the bone structure behind the mask was soft and delicate, his periwinkle eyes beautifully framed by his lashes, and while his hair was slicked back, a few blonde curls fell between his eyes.
It was mesmerizing.
And he took the mask and pressed a hand against the texture, it was beautiful and delicate work, but what he wanted was to touch Luce's skin, to feel it under his fingertips, to brush a finger across those delicate rosy lips.
He managed to keep his urges inside and began to talk at length about the craft, using terms he was not sure Luce understood, but it was the only way to keep himself from grabbing the angel and planting his lips on his.
So he kept talking, feeling Luce's eyes on him, focused on the mask.
Then he felt the smaller man closing the distance between them.
༻ᨒ༺ ༻ᨒ༺ ༻ᨒ༺
The moon caressed Alastor's face, the light making his amber eyes shine as he told him the details of the mask, and Lucifer couldn't help it.
He slowly closed the distance with his heart fluttering, his mind focused only on those lips.
When he was close enough, he placed a hand on top of the other, a warning of his actions, and Alastor smiled at the touch and leaned towards him.
It was a fraction of a second, moving at a slow pace, their foreheads touched and Lucifer took his free hand to cup Alastor's face, their eyes locked, sensing a little hesitation as well as a desire and a promise of something. And though Lucifer knew he would probably not be able to fulfill it, he yearned for it as well.
Lucifer closed his eyes, their lips brushing, his heart racing.
"Sorry for the interruption! But the main event is about to take place," a servant's voice interrupted as Alastor pulled away and stood up, leaving him leaning on nothing and almost falling off the stone bench.
"Ah, it seems our time is up," Alastor said nonchalantly as the servant returned to the castle and he began to follow.
But Lucifer stood and grabbed the other's sleeve.
"Wait!" he shouted and Alastor stopped, Lucifer quickly realized the desperation in his voice and let go, stepping back "We can just pass on the event, you know? I don't think anyone would mind our absence."
And Alastor remained silent, his back to him, and it made Lucifer wonder if he had really gone too far, if the kiss was not something he really wanted from him, and now he was begging to go back to that moment.
"I'm afraid my assistance is required," Alastor said, his tone tinged with sorrow, still not looking at him as he began to put on his mask.
Then he turned quickly and smiled again.
"I suggest you put your angelic wings back on, mon ange, let's not be late," he said, holding out a hand, and the change in tone was quite obvious to Lucifer, and even though it didn't make sense, maybe all they needed was for the ball to end, to get rid of any inconvenience and interruption before proceeding somewhere else.
Lucifer put on his mask and reached for Alastor's hand.
"Right behind you, mon diable."
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The musicians had stopped playing, the guests gathered in the center, the moon shining above them, illuminating the ballroom, making every golden mark on the altar shimmer. The members laid a crimson velvet cloth on the floor, a pentagram embroidered in golden thread, his seal, and other dark symbols sewn between the points.
Lucifer entered just behind Alastor, frowning at the preparations as his original plan was to leave before the sacrifice, to be home and relax before every damned soul joined him, either knowing the purpose of their journey or frightened to death by it. And either way, it was unpleasant to deal with.
Suddenly the loud chatter of the crowd stopped, and the heads of the family stood before the pentagram.
"Lucifer, give us thy power, give us thy wisdom, thy abundance, fill us with thy spirit. We have celebrated a night blessed by a full moon in thy honor. We praise your name and dedicate ourselves to thee with mind and body. Ave Lucifer", they chanted, the crowd repeated "Ave Lucifer" in chorus, and Lucifer felt his power surge, for prayer was powerful, he had learned it over the millennia, but unlike his Father, he had the patience to listen, even if what was being asked of him was mostly obscure.
"Bring the sacrifice forward," the leader asked.
And then they all turned to face him.
Lucifer was startled, for he had made sure to enter unannounced, and even though he had been socializing a lot during the gathering, no one had asked questions or been suspicious of his presence. Once again, it could all have been an act, there were still other conditions, they couldn't just pick someone out of the crowd, and knowing the way the family followed the rules by the book, it was unlikely that such planning and preparation would be wasted on a soul who might not even serve them.
Alastor released his hand and stepped forward.
And Lucifer's current train of thought was shattered, his heart racing at the realization that it wasn't him the crowd was looking at, but Alastor. He thought he was just another guest, a devoted mask-maker with so much ego that he had chosen to wear a mask of the Devil himself. But now Lucifer knew what a fool he had been to believe such a deception, how the family would not have allowed any rules to be broken, even the unspoken ones.
So the mask served a purpose.
A marker for everyone to recognize the real special guest of the evening.
A way to identify the sacrifice.
Lucifer laughed to himself, for the idea that Alastor was a gift to him was delightful. And there was no trick, nothing to bind him to a soul, even if it was intended to be his. Lucifer had simply been captivated by the man from the moment he set eyes on him, his heart tugged by an unknown force, his figure too tantalizing to ignore, his eyes a pool of honey he would gladly immerse himself in. He wanted Alastor, and the prospect that he would always be his to begin with thrilled him.
But he wanted him alive.
༻ᨒ༺ ༻ᨒ༺ ༻ᨒ༺
Alastor walked forward, hearing whispers of prayers thanking him for his devotion and sacrifice. As he reached the altar, one of the leaders removed his mask and placed it at the center of the sacrificial table. Then he turned and walked to the heart of the pentagram and knelt, his cloak cascading gracefully to the ground, the flower Luce had placed on his blouse shimmering in the moonlight.
It was an unexpected encounter, to say the least, and he had never been interested in the gazes or charms of others, women or men, which had led him to such a predicament. But he had dedicated himself to the cause, and felt that there was little left to pursue since his mother had died of the disease not so long ago.
But those periwinkle eyes behind the feathers were a force of divine magnitude, and the way Luce danced gracefully in his arms, as if they were a pair made for each other. It felt like nothing he had ever experienced before, like a breath of fresh air after the last rough couple of months.
Luce was enticing, like an angel coming to rescue him,
The leader spoke, his arms open in prayer.
"We offer thee this lamb, our Prince of Darkness, a demonstration of our infinite devotion, the first of many. May this suffice and rejoice thee, we ask thee to help our coven and grant us the strength to face illness. Ave Lucifer"
"Ave Lucifer," he said with the crowd.
Then he saw a member approach the leader with a golden dagger resting on a black velvet cushion.
Alastor looked back at the crowd and froze.
Luce was standing in the middle, mask off, blonde curls adorning his face, lips expressionless, eyes locked with his. He immediately regretted not giving him that kiss, not turning around and continuing, even if only for a second before departing. But at the moment he thought it was for the best, because he didn't know if he would be able to surrender his life willingly once he got a taste of Luce. And he knew that with the power within the coven, they would not let him flee.
The leader began another prayer and approached him from behind, he bent his body just enough to leave room for the blade to pierce his neck, praying for a quick and merciful death.
Alastor heard the rustle of the robe, the dagger probably lifted in the air, and he decided to take one last look, just one last glance, hoping that the realization had not been too much for Luce and that he was long gone from the crowd.
He lifted his head and he was still there, but the people obscured a good visibility, small glimpses of golden hair could be seen between the movement and flashes of periwinkle eyes.
Alastor wanted to call him, to have him come forward, to have that one last sight.
One final glimpse.
Suddenly, all the candles in the room are blown out with a gust of wind, and the warmth of the room vanishes, the atmosphere grows eerie, and the leader stops the motion. The only light left is that of the moon, which has now risen directly above the skylight. People whisper around, wondering if the Devil is not pleased with their sacrifice if this is all part of the sacrifice.
But before anyone can come to a conclusion, a sudden loud unfurling sound is heard, the crowd retreating to the sides in a hurried panic as six wings spread outward in a sudden, intense motion, their wingspan reaching almost to the edges of the room, crimson and white feathers unraveling in a rippling wave as some separate and now drift to the ground in a graceful swirling motion.
Alastor remained in place, confused by the sudden action, and then he gasped.
Because at the center of those fluttering wings was Luce.
And he was magnificent.
His clothes had changed completely, Luce was now wearing a long white tailcoat with crimson lapels and lining, inside a white shirt with a black silk bow tie at the neck. Over this, he wore a pink waistcoat with delicate white vertical lines and gold buttons in the center, linked by chains of the same material. His trousers remained white and fitted, but he now wore long, slender black boots with high knee-high heels.
And his face had changed as well, his eyes now crimson, his eyelids a soft purple and his skin now completely porcelain, with two dots on either side of his cheeks. A long black spade-shaped tail flickered around him, and two long crimson horns protruded from his head, between which a fire burned endlessly.
Alastor was about to speak when the leader rushed forward and knelt before Luce.
"Ave Lucifer! Our Lord, you have come to grace us with thy presence, our prince," the leader pleaded.
Lucifer looked down at the man, "I have sinners, I am grateful for your offerings and devotion, now rise".
The leader rose and the other guests began to kneel and pray silently on the ground, no one else daring to approach the Devil.
"'Now, I was promised a sacrifice and I am here to take it myself, would that be all right?" Lucifer asked.
"Of course, our Lord, he is yours to take as you please," the leader bowed and motioned him over to where he was standing.
Alastor didn't move or flinch, transfixed by the beautiful creature before him.
He followed with his eyes as Lucifer slowly approached, hands behind his back and his six wings drawing inwards, resting on his spine, his heels echoing with every step. He reached him and stopped, and despite their height difference, the fallen angel's presence was overwhelming, and Alastor found himself drawn to him even more than before.
"Would you like to join me for a flight, mon diable?" Lucifer crooned, offering a hand.
For a brief moment he hesitated, not knowing if this had been the Devil's intention all along, if what had made him succumb to his charms was nothing more than an elaborate incantation. Yet the moment of longing in the garden seemed real, that moment before their lips touched and the look in those periwinkle eyes, it was desire, a longing for more.
And so he would follow his instincts.
Alastor took Lucifer's hand and brought it to his lips, placing a soft peck on his knuckles.
"It would be my pleasure mon ange," he said back, looking straight into those crimson eyes.
Lucifer smiled and pulled him up, grabbing his waist as he unfolded his wings once more and in one swift motion all six of them were beaten into the air, lifting them both effortlessly off the ground. Alastor momentarily panicked as the skylight was between them and the exterior, but Lucifer wrapped his wings around them, creating a momentary cocoon as they pierced the glass.
Then they open with a mighty flap to propel them forward into the sky, the palace slowly diminishing in size. Alastor clings to Lucifer, the rush of coolness and the feeling of altitude making him a little frightened, hoping his angel would not let him fall from such a distance.
Lucifer soared a little higher until he came to a sudden stop, his wings fully extended and maintaining a slow rhythm to keep them in place.
Alastor pulled away from Lucifer's shoulder, trying not to look down, but he did turn to see how close the moon really felt, the image bigger than them, it was breathtaking.
"I apologize for the lie," Lucifer said then, causing Alastor to turn to look at him, their altitude now changing due to the angels flight.
"For what? Did you really think I would believe you if you said you were the Devil, mon ange?" he asked.
"That... yes, I'll give you that, yes, but regardless, what do you want to do now?"
And the question was ridiculous, absurd, only one answer in Alastor's mind, something he should have done back in the garden, and he would not take another second to delay it.
༻ᨒ༺ ༻ᨒ༺ ༻ᨒ༺
Rescuing Alastor from the sacrifice was the only sensible choice, and a rather uncomplicated one, no one batted an eye, no one judged, he was the Devil and he would do as he pleased with the sacrifice placed upon him, and he would certainly reward them.
But as he took Alastor from the palace, he wasn't sure what would come next, though the man had shown no fear of his grand revelation, any human would be a fool not to submit to an offering from a creature like him, even if he used a question and not a demand.
And as they soared deep into the starry sky he had once helped create; he had no choice but to ask the dreaded question of what Alastor would want now.
He would give him anything, he would take him back home or to any location he wanted, he would give him wealth and he would heal any illness he asked for. And he would also be prepared for rejection, for the man to break down and beg to let him go, he was ready for his heart to be crushed by the revelation of his character.
He felt an abrupt tug on his collar and then Alastor pressed their lips together.
And it felt like bliss, a culmination of their dances and glances throughout the night. He quickly melted into the touch, cupping Alastor's face with one hand and holding him in place with the other, pulling him closer. His lips tasted of wine and grapes, it was warm and welcoming as the kiss deepened, their tastes blending as if they had always belonged together.
Alastor then let go for a moment, gasping for air that Lucifer did not need.
"Am I not your sacrifice? I'll follow you wherever you go, mon ange," he whispered softly against his lips.
Lucifer laughed gently, licking his own lips, longing for more contact.
"Are you sure mon diable?" he purred, caressing Alastor's waist slowly.
And Alastor lifted his leg a little in response, rubbing it against his and then leaning up to his ear.
"I'm all yours, mon coeur," he whispered, making everything in Lucifer explode with lust, his tail wrapping possessively around Alastor's waist, causing him to gasp with delight.
And Lucifer wanted to hear more.
"Very well, mon trésor," Lucifer said, placing his lips against Alastor's again, his taste addictive after just one taste.
Lucifer returned his other arm around Alastor's waist, and in response the other tightened his grip around his shoulder, resting his head on his neck and beginning to plant small kisses into his kin.
He savored the pleasure for a second before taking flight again, not sure where they would end up, but it didn't matter as long as Alastor was with him.