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Strands of scarlet hair flowed through Lucifer's fingers like silk. It floated down to gently caress the cheekbone of the man lying beside him. A frame to a masterpiece that left Lucifer transfixed and nearly breathless.
Alastor was the most powerful sinner in hell. Lucifer knew that well. He would never deny that Alastor was no ordinary sinner. There were not many who he could say brought up any sort of challenge. However, having such a powerful man feared by many, so vulnerable, so serene, under his touch, made his chest flutter. Watching Alastor slowly breathe and hold no tension within his form was another level of intoxication only he was allowed to partake in.
He twisted a lock between his fingers as a low grumble escaped Alastor's throat.
Lucifer's hand found its way up to the soft, velvety ears. It twitched under his fingers, but he could not stop running them gently over it again and again. It twitched more violently out of his touch, and in the next moment, he was pulled flush against his partner, arm pinned to his side.
Alastor leaned in close to say, “What do you think you're doing?” His voice was thick with exhaustion and annoyance.
Lucifer pouted, deprived of easy access to what he wanted. “Sorry, Bambi. I cannot help how nice you feel.”
“How about you satisfy your desires when I am not trying to sleep?”
“Oh come on, Al.” He shifted, pretending to stretch to let his arm free so he could touch the edges of Alastor's ears once again. This time, he made a point to rub them between his fingers. An annoyed sigh from the other quickly evolved into a stifled moan. Lucifer teased, “I know you like it, Al.”
Alastor was silent for a moment, absentmindedly melting into the touch until his whole body stiffened at the realization of what he was doing. He hissed, “Tell me why you refuse to go to bed. It is late.”
“I–” The words seemed to catch in his throat. The urge to lie or to brush off the true reason was strong. However, the words, unable to escape through any kind of deception or excuse, refused to leave. When he looked Alastor in the eyes, his shoulders relaxed, his forced smile faded, and his brow unfurrowed. He didn't know exactly when he first started falling for Alastor, but he felt calm and strangely safe with him.
He allowed himself to show the vulnerability his partner still seemed afraid to reciprocate. “Nightmares. I keep having nightmares about everything that happened. Versions where–” He placed a hand on Alastor's cheek– “those I care for most didn't make it. I don't want to see Charlie hurt, or Vaggi, or… you.”
Alastor wrapped his fingers around Lucifer's hand. “You’re sentimental as always. Isn't it obvious that we are all still here?”
“That's… why I like to touch your ears.”
“I'm afraid I do not follow.”
Lucifer declared, “You're here, with me. And your dumb, fluffy, stupid ears are proof of it.” He recoiled his touch. “But if you don't want it, I'll stop.”
Alastor's eyes glowed when he gave another dissatisfied grumble. He gently brought Lucifer's hand back to the top of his head. “I never told you to stop, now did I? As long as you promise to at least let me get some sleep while you are at it.” He mumbled as he closed his eyes and settled in once more, “Do it like you just did, they are sensitive to lighter touches.”
“Oh, like this?” He brushed his ear lightly with his fingertips only to have it flick hard.
He growled, “Or perhaps I shouldn't allow you to touch them at all.”
Lucifer rolled his eyes and began massaging the Radio Demon's fluffy ears once more. This time, Al allowed himself to melt into the touch and drift back to sleep. It truly was an adorable sight. Lucifer smiled and said barely over a whisper, “Alright, Al.”
