Archive of Our Own

During his lifetime on earth, it was said that the Devil was pure temptation and that one’s soul would be defiled if one gave in to his temptations. Alastor had never given much weight to those words. However, he had also never expected to encounter the Devil himself in his afterlife.

Even less had he expected to fall victim to that temptation. It was just fortunate that his soul had already been damned, otherwise he would likely have had cause for concern. Or perhaps not. Alastor was quite content with the state of his soul, and it had always been clear to him where he would end up at the end of his life.

That this included the Devil’s bed, however, was not on his radar at all. Nor was just how possessive the Devil could be. Alastor hated having to admit, even if only to himself, that he let himself be led astray by him far too often. Perhaps the humans of his time had been right after all.

And yet Lucifer was completely different from anything he could have ever imagined. Possessive, seductive in that utterly unique, infuriating way. With an impossible passion for all sorts of ducks that Alastor still couldn't understand. If one didn't know better, one certainly wouldn't take Lucifer for the King of Hell. It was rather in the small moments that he realized what power actually lay behind this being.

Admittedly, his company was quite pleasant. Perhaps even more than that, but he would never say anything like that out loud or dare to think it. He’d rather bite off his own tongue. But yes, they had started this… something. Whatever it was, it was pleasant.

So what was the harm in giving in to the Devil every now and then, if it always turned out well for him in the end? Lucifer was, surprisingly, respectful and considerate. Always careful to let him know that Alastor was in charge and that he, accordingly, had the final say. Even if that meant letting himself be persuaded to spend the morning in his bed and let him touch him. Extensively. He tried not to think too often about that morning a week ago.

But Lucifer was also a hopelessly sentimental sort of man, which drove Alastor mad. That was exactly why Alastor was now in this predicament, from which he couldn’t escape without it becoming unpleasant for everyone.

Lucifer loved flying. Alastor hated flying.

With a sigh, he looked out the window of his radio tower. He had just finished his broadcast. No one bothered him as long as he was on the air or even in his tower. Not even that pest of a king. Really, how had he let things get this far? The worst part, though, was that he himself was partly to blame. A very small part.

Of course, Lucifer had suggested some time ago that he’d quite like to fly with him sometime. Alastor had just waved it off, and the topic hadn’t come up again since. Until that fateful morning when he’d let himself be talked into staying a little longer. Into letting himself be touched.

Strictly speaking, then, it was Lucifer’s own fault.

Alastor had been relaxed, well-rested, and he had thoroughly enjoyed what the other had done with him. They had slept a little longer together, and he had even let him touch his ears until they got up.

And suddenly Lucifer had started talking about flying again. Alastor, as relaxed and lulled as he had been, hadn’t told him clearly and unmistakably that he didn’t want to. No, he had told him he really needed to try harder.

Alastor would never fly with him.

What followed was a week full of persistent questions, attempts at persuasion, and gestures meant to be loving, which got on the sinner’s last nerve. His patience was nearly exhausted.

Even his radio show hadn’t really helped. He knew that as soon as he left his tower, he’d be in constant danger of running into the King. So the obvious solution was to just stay here. To travel only through his shadows and never show his face again.

Pathetic. The Radio Demon was trying to run away. That’s what you got for getting involved with someone. Just because they had that certain something.

Alastor stood up, adjusted the collar of his coat and his bow tie, before taking his staff and leaving his tower with his head held high. As if he would ever hide, like some pathetic weakling.

To his surprise, he was able to go about his work here at the hotel almost undisturbed. A brief conversation with Charlie, a quick check of the hotel’s unoccupied rooms, Niffty, who had suffered a major setback in the war against the cockroaches and was having a blast doing it. Inventory checks for the next orders that needed to be placed.

The initial tension slowly left his body the longer he was able to concentrate on his work undisturbed. As the hours passed without any obstacles he couldn’t immediately resolve, he realized he hadn’t been to Cannibal Town in quite a while. His beloved Rosie surely wouldn’t object to a visit.

Maybe a coffee here first, then a visit to Rosie. If only he could always work like this. It was early afternoon and he had already finished everything. This day was well on its way to being a thoroughly pleasant one again for the first time in a while. That did wonders for his otherwise tense mood over the last few days.

Alastor opened the door to the kitchen... and froze.

The table was set. With food. No, a feast. With everything the Stag liked and the drinks he preferred. And candles. Damn candles. It looked like...

And there stood Lucifer. With a broad smile. As if he’d been waiting just for Alastor to come into the kitchen. As if he’d known when he’d finish his work and what he’d do next. As if he knew him.

Alastor’s eyes turned black, transforming into radio dials. It took every ounce of self-control not to let his antlers grow as well.

"You!” Oh, he’d known it. Lucifer, that vile snake, had left him alone on purpose. Had lulled him into a false sense of security, only to ambush him.

"Bambi! You’re just in time.”

Alastor’s reaction didn’t even seem to interest him. As if he didn’t even notice his condition, too focused on what he’d done here—and then he acted as if he hadn’t planned it exactly that way. He couldn’t hold back any longer.

"Don’t call me that. What is this all about, Lucifer? What are you trying to achieve? Don’t tell me it’s still about flying.”

"Eh. Well, you practically told me to try harder. And I know you, so I figured, what could be better for someone like you? It’s probably—”

"Stop.”

"Oh, right. You must be hungry.”

"No, Lucifer. Stop it. Stop asking questions, stop with the gifts, stop with the gestures. I hate it. You’ve been hounding me all week, pestering me with this nonsense. Stop it!” He had to remind himself that Lucifer had only himself to blame. Absolutely. "I’m not going flying with you. I hate it. I hate these gifts, these gestures. I’d rather chew off my own legs, and even then I’d never go flying with you. Drop it already and bother someone else with this pointless pastime!”

He couldn’t read Lucifer’s expression. It was all too much. So he let himself fall into his shadows and fled.

Once he reached the safety of his bayou, he pressed his back against the door. His hand fumbled for the key, turned it until he heard the lock click, and closed his eyes.

A closed door wouldn’t stop anyone if it really came down to it. His barriers would keep most demons out, but theoretically, it wouldn’t be a problem for the King of Hell himself. But he knew Lucifer wouldn’t cross that line. Lucifer. That good-for-nothing. Idiot. Why couldn’t he let it go?

But the worst part? Alastor knew that this thing between them would probably be over pretty quickly, and it… bothered him. It bothered him, and he didn’t like that he was thinking and feeling this way.

The people back then were right. Nothing good came from giving in to the sin of getting too close to the Devil. Not even in Hell itself.

Alastor had actually managed not to leave his quarters until evening. On purpose. He didn’t want to talk to Lucifer, nor to anyone else.

A glance at the clock revealed that it was already past midnight. It seemed like the best time, but also just like any other. Because eventually he would have to show his face again, if only to avoid admitting why he had withdrawn. At the same time, it seemed fitting to him to wait a while, knowing that a certain someone in particular would already be in bed.

Without bothering to use the door, the sinner let his shadows carry him downstairs. To the bar, after he was sure no one but Husk would be there.

So he materialized on one of the bar stools. Husk, not really surprised, raised an eyebrow when he saw him. No words were needed for him to set a glass of whiskey down in front of him.

"You look like shit, Boss.”

"No, aren’t we being attentive tonight?”

"If you need to take your moods out on someone, I’m out of here. Help yourself.”

Alastor rolled his eyes as he raised the glass and took a first sip. Drinking helped significantly less than one might think.

"I’m not getting paid to do this. Or to stand here all night,” Husk muttered quietly as he walked past Alastor. Then silence. All the better. He could think better anyway when he didn’t have to focus on anything else.

Only… there wasn’t really anything he needed to think about. His situation was basically clear and straightforward. Maybe this was more the moment where he needed to think about how he would move forward in the future. Even though no one here really knew what was going on between Lucifer and him, it was quite obvious that things were more relaxed between them. That would probably change pretty soon.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that this thought didn’t sit well with him. Or this situation. Just as much as the fact that all of this was bothering him so much in the first place.

"Tough day, huh?”

Alastor had sensed Lucifer’s presence even before he heard him. He might not always act this way, but his aura, his power—it was always palpable. At least to Alastor. He liked that.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lucifer sit down as well, leaving a seat open between them. He was still giving him space. Lucifer leaned against the bar, his cheek resting on the backs of his fingers, and simply looked at him. Lucifer looked good. Without his coat, without that awful hat.

"You know, everyone dug into the food. It certainly wasn’t as good as yours, but they were happy.”

Alastor wondered where this one-sided conversation was headed. Did it still take a conversation to draw a line under everything? Wasn’t it obvious how things had to proceed? That they’d even started something like… Oh. He’d almost tuned Lucifer out, but the man was still talking.

"Anyway, no one was worried that the meat had been processed from something that once belonged to someone. Really, that you even have to worry about that here.”

"Lucifer.”

"Alastor. Why didn’t you say anything?”

"I told you I don’t want to.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, completely unconvinced by what he’d just heard. "Yeah, no. You suck at saying anything when it really matters.”

Alastor shot him a dirty look. It might be that communication on this level wasn’t exactly his strong suit. If you squinted hard while looking at this whole situation. He refused, nonetheless, to take all the blame.

Silence followed again. He turned away from the angel and looked down at his glass. It was empty. He should go.

"But you’re right. I pride myself on knowing you, and yet I still have a lot to learn when it comes to you. I guess we’ve both played our part in this.” Now it was Lucifer’s turn to sigh. "Can you tell me why you don’t want to?”

"No.”

"No, you can’t, or no, you won’t?”

He didn’t answer that question. Instead, he wondered if it had really been the right decision to come to the bar so late. Alastor had thought that this way he could avoid most of the sinners here so as not to let his mood get any worse. Now that he was alone with the angel, it seemed he would much rather have a lively hotel around him to escape this conversation.

Either way, they fell silent again. Probably because now even Lucifer had to admit that this conversation, which Alastor didn’t want to participate in at all, made absolutely no sense. He could already feel relief welling up inside him when he noticed that Lucifer stood up after another interminably long while.

Only to jump onto the bar right next to the sinner, sit down there, and lean over so he could look him straight in the eye. Alastor tried not to flinch as he met his gaze. "There you are. I was starting to think you wouldn’t look at me properly anymore, Bambi.”

"I told you not to call me that anymore.” This time he turned his head away. "Just like I’m telling you I don’t want to talk, in case you’ve once again failed to misinterpret my behavior. Just shut—”

Suddenly there was that hand, cupping his chin and gently but firmly squeezing his cheeks together. That silenced Alastor, especially when his head was turned back and he once again had those eyes before him. Only this time they were looking down at him, a rather rare sight. Or so he claimed, if he ignored the times in Lucifer’s bed.

"Sometimes, Bambi, I just decide not to listen to what you tell me.” Lucifer squeezed his cheeks a little tighter with his fingers. "I have a suggestion for you. After that, we’ll drop the subject, completely. Okay?”

He could only nod, and then the hand was gone again. Really, if Lucifer were anyone else. Only he would dare to treat the Radio Demon like that, and he was probably also the only one Alastor hadn’t immediately ripped the hand off for it. Yet.

Lucifer jumped down from the bar and snapped his fingers. Out of nothing, a record player appeared, and a moment later, soft music began to play. "Normally, I prefer it when you take care of the music. But this time, I want your full attention on me. So.” Lucifer turned around and... held out his hand to him.

"You can’t be serious.”

"Oh, yes. Dance with me.”

"Is that supposed to be your suggestion?”

"Hmm, no. More like a nice little addition."

Alastor looked at the hand in front of him, still outstretched. Without meaning to, he thought back to the morning a week ago. How those hands had touched him. How it had made him feel. But those thoughts remained his secret. So he placed his own claw in the Devil’s hand.

He slid off the stool and followed a few steps. But when he tried to place his hand on the Devil’s waist, he was stopped.

"Ah, ah. I lead.”

"Forget it. You’re way too small for that, little majesty.”

"Keep that tone, Bambi. Hand on my shoulder, come on.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe. But first of all!” Lucifer placed his hand on Alastor’s waist, pressed gently, and held that pressure. “I’m not that much smaller. Okay? I could even make myself taller if I wanted to. But I’m quite content this way.”

“So you’re actually this small on purpose. Well, that makes it much easier to look down on you.”

“Mhm, sure. Second!” Their hands slid together as if they’d been made for it. As if they fit together, and he hated that he thought that. Alastor would be lying if he claimed he didn’t like it. Another one of those little secrets that only he knew.

Suddenly he found himself on his back—no, more in his arms, as he’d simply bent him down. Automatically, he dug his hand into his shoulder. “I’m tall enough to lead you. Who’s looking down on someone now, hm?”

“Pretty vindictive.”

“That’s coming from the right guy.”

Lucifer got them both back into a standing position. This time, without any nasty surprises, he led him slowly to the music. It took a few dance steps before he was finally presented with the aforementioned proposal.

“Three questions. Answer me three questions, honestly. After that, we’ll drop this topic and I promise not to bring it up again.”

“Shall we make a deal for that?”

“You may be the only sinner I’d ever make a deal with, but no. Not for this.”

“I could lie.”

“Just like I could. I think we just have to trust each other now.”

“I don’t trust anyone.”

“Clever deer.”

Lucifer slowly turned Alastor around. Although it was meant to be somewhat comical, it worked. Because Alastor simply followed his lead, and for some reason, it felt as though Lucifer was sharing his lead with him a little. No, worse. Trusting him to follow.

“All right. Three questions.”

The angel smiled contentedly and placed his hand back on Alastor’s waist. This time, he held him there more firmly. He liked it.

“Why didn’t you ever just tell me straight out that you didn’t like it? Instead of stalling me with an excuse, you could have just been honest. I wouldn’t have forced you.”

Alastor knew that. Well, they had never really discussed how detailed his answers actually had to be.

“It seemed too late for that at some point.” They both knew that wasn’t really a proper answer to his question. It was honest, nonetheless.

“But you know I wouldn’t really force you if you told me clearly and plainly what you want or don’t want. Right?”

“Is that the second question?”

“More of a reassurance. You don’t have to answer it.”

Lucifer pulled him a little closer. There was still space between them; Alastor could claim more room at any moment. Instead, he let it be, feeling no discomfort in the position he was in.

“I know,” he answered the question anyway. The smile had been worth it. Maybe.

“Second question. Why don’t you like flying?”

Alastor had tried not to make any sounds that might even slightly betray his emotional state. He couldn’t suppress the little radio squeak. It quickly gave way again to the static that surrounded him most of the time. Lucifer had once told him that he liked it, and he didn’t know why he was thinking about that now.

“I just don’t like it.”

“But… it can’t be because of the height. I’ve seen you grow huge. Didn’t you even let yourself be launched at someone during a fight once? Isn’t that the same thing?”

“If you keep asking so many follow-up questions, the point of your little game will be lost.”

To be honest, Alastor didn’t know how to explain it without coming across as infinitely weak. Really, if he were here with anyone else, things would look completely different. He wouldn’t even be in this situation if he hadn’t gotten involved with the Devil.

“Got it, fine. You have to admit, it’s still weird.”

“There’s nothing weird about it if I don’t want to put myself in your… your hands. Just like that, high up in the air. Trusting that you won’t just let me fall or worse.”

“Why would I let you fall? Besides, you have your shadows.”

“That’s not the point!”

“So… it’s a matter of trust. And loss of control. No, no, stay right here, Bambi. You’re not going to slip away from me now.”

Alastor would love to. He couldn’t retreat into his shadows while Lucifer was holding him so tightly. So much power in this being before him, and yet he wasn’t even using it for anything meaningful. Instead, he was using it to prevent Alastor from leaving. He knew he only had to say something and he could leave. If he really wanted to.

Instead, they stood still, but didn’t let go of each other. As if Lucifer were just waiting for the signal that it was okay to continue what they were doing. He gave him control and made no move to change that, contrary to what he’d just said. Alastor had the final say, should he absolutely no longer want to. Like a back door that was always open for him.

Alastor looked at him, saw the serious expression on his face. He also recognized something gentle in his eyes, like an assurance that this was all right. Hm.

“I’m not afraid, just so that’s clear. Flying is… The fact that I simply have to surrender to your judgment and accept whatever you decide. In the air. Everything I do is under my control. I know what I’m doing; I know what will happen. I can assess everything perfectly. Just because I could save myself doesn’t mean I want to surrender to the unknown. I don’t follow blindly.”

“Yet you’re quite good at it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Following.” As if to underscore his words, Lucifer continued their little dance. Alastor followed his lead.

“That’s a difference.”

“Do you think so?”

“Absolutely.”

It was easy for Lucifer. He was the most powerful being down here. He didn’t have to prove anything to anyone, didn’t have to assert himself. Nothing would ever change the fact that his power was unmatched by anyone down here. So how could he possibly understand that?

“Following someone doesn’t make you weak. Neither does trusting someone.”

“Possibly. It’s wiser, however, not to let it come to that in the first place.”

There was too much at stake when you trusted someone blindly. Especially when you were an Overlord yourself and had a certain reputation to uphold. A certain standing. Simply trusting someone without having a backup plan was foolish. No matter who stood before you.

Alastor watched Lucifer’s expression. He seemed to be pondering the Sinner’s words. In any case, he didn’t say anything about it.

“Okay. Last question. What are the chances you’ll spend the night with me again?”

This time he didn’t try to hide his surprise at the question. That’s what Lucifer wanted to know? Nothing more about the flying, about the whole of last week. Just that?

“It’s not my fault that…”

“That you ran away from me?”

“Which I wouldn’t have had to do if you hadn’t been so persistent!

“Which we could have avoided if you’d been honest with me from the start, Bambi. For someone who prides himself on always knowing what to say and even enjoys hearing himself talk, you’re pretty shit at it when it really matters.”

Alastor narrowed his eyes. “Your chances are slipping, Lucifer, and you love hearing me talk.”

“Never claimed otherwise.”

Well, that wasn’t fun when you won an argument so quickly. Lucifer, on the other hand, seemed amused by it, judging by the way he laughed.

“My little deer, you’re unbelievable. The most difficult, complicated, and uptight sinner I’ve ever met.”

“Uptight?!”

Lucifer, however, just kept laughing. Then there was only… a gentle gaze. Almost loving. And it was directed at Alastor. Sentimental king. Alastor hadn’t said no. Hadn’t told him he didn’t stand a chance anymore. They both knew that. He didn’t like that it was so clear to both of them that he, too, enjoyed the evenings they spent together. No matter what they looked like. Even if he didn’t stay the night.

Lucifer wanted him to have him overnight. Alastor wanted to stay.

The music fell silent as Lucifer bent him down again and held him in his arms. A particularly possessive grip on his body.

“That wasn’t a desperate attempt to convince me after all, was it?”

“No. I like to share what I love with those around me whom I also…” Lucifer faltered. That was probably for the best. It seemed too dangerous to continue that sentence. “I love flying. Sometimes I fly with Charlie; she loved it even as a child. I want to share things with those who are important to me. That’s why I’m happy to explain every single one of my rubber ducks to you, even though I know how awful you think they are.”

“And yet you’re still forcing me through this ordeal.”

And Alastor let him. Just as he remained in that position and didn’t move away from it. He didn’t even have to hold on to himself. Lucifer was holding him. Tightly.

“Don’t you think this position is starting to get a little ridiculous, Lucifer?”

“You won’t even let me have a little fun—”

“Open your wings.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” His words certainly had the effect of getting them both out of that pose. They stood facing each other; Lucifer was still holding his hand and scrutinizing him. As if Alastor had told him that hell would freeze over tomorrow. Then he did what was asked of him.

Alastor had to admit, even though he was reluctant to have to rely on it, that his wings were beautiful nonetheless. White and red. Majestic. Slowly, he placed his hands on Lucifer’s neck, but otherwise remained silent.

And his angel, this incredible man, flapped his wings and slowly lifted off. Just far enough that Alastor actually had to raise his arms to keep them around his neck. But not so far that he would actually take off with him.

“Are you sure?”

There was the back door again. Open for him, if necessary. So he wrapped his arms tighter around his neck. “Just this once. If you let me fall, I’ll find a way to kill the devil.”

“Yeah, impossible. But if anyone could do it,” Lucifer began as he opened a portal above their heads leading to one of his little pocket dimensions. He’d seen it when Charlie had flown with him. What would it look like for him in there? “Then it must be you, my deer. Hold on tight.”

And then he flew upward into the portal at a speed Alastor couldn’t appreciate, and it closed again beneath them. Instinctively, he clung to him, burying his face in his shoulders. He just had to hold on until Lucifer was satisfied.

“Bambi, look around. You’re missing everything.”

“No, thank you."

The problem wasn’t that he had no ground beneath his feet or that he probably wouldn’t even be able to see the ground below them. He really didn’t want to look around. “I hate you.”

“Sure. Now look around. Please.”

Only reluctantly did he lift his head from his shoulder, and only because they were floating motionless in the air. Carried by Lucifer’s wings, but no longer moving. And suddenly, he couldn’t look away.

Stars. So many stars in the night sky. The moon, so much bigger than he remembered it. As if they had flown toward it, but were still far enough away. In fact, there was nothing else around him. Just a night sky, countless stars, the moon, and..

“Lucifer.”

“You once told me that you liked the night sky on Earth. I’m almost certain you also talked about your murders while you were at it.”

“Lucifer.”

“But I certainly didn’t want to bring that up. I mean.. I should be grateful; after all, it brought you to me. To my hell. To this moment. But...”

“Lucifer!”

“Hm?”

Alastor kissed him. Just briefly. He didn’t know how else to express what he felt. Perhaps Lucifer had been right and this kind of communication wasn’t exactly his strong suit. Not if he was supposed to sound honest, without sarcasm or anything like that. So this was his best option.

“My deer. May I kiss you some more?”

Lucifer, too, decided that words apparently weren’t enough anymore.

“You and your sappiness. Don’t look at me like that.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

“It wasn’t.”

Alastor closed his eyes and decided it was okay. Here. In this little dimension where it was just the two of them. Where only Lucifer could see him. It was okay. He was okay. This might even be more than okay. Still, he held on tighter when he felt Lucifer’s arms loosen slightly and stopped the kiss.

“Don’t let go.”

“I told you. I won’t let you fall.”

The arms closed tighter around the Sinner again. Damn it. What was he doing here? Letting Lucifer kiss him, that’s what he was doing. Again. Flying with him, for him. Giving in to this sentimental nonsense. And yet he at least removed one hand from his tight grip to run it through Lucifer’s hair and hold on there.

"Bambi. Should I take you back to your bayou later?”

"No. You still owe me a night in your ridiculous bed.”

Lucifer grinned. "I knew you loved my bed and all those pillows. You spoiled thing.”

Damn devil. Of all the sins Alastor had committed in his life and afterlife, this felt the least like one. So what if he gave in to temptation? To the devil himself? If it felt so good that even Alastor had no objection to follow him. And only him.