The day of the meeting arrived sooner than Lucifer had anticipated. In the lobby, everyone waited anxiously for the portal to open. Lucifer pacing nervously, worried about Charlie's safety once in Heaven.
"I'll be fine, Dad," she reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him. "Just breathe. Nothing will happen to me." He looked at her with concern and pleaded, "Please don't go?" Charlie chuckled softly. "I'll be okay. Vaggie is with me. I won't be alone."
Lucifer glanced at Vaggie, knowing what it meant to her to go back to Heaven. "Are you sure you'll be alright, Vaggie?" he asked sincerely, knowing her history with the place wasn't pleasant. "I'll manage. Don't worry," Vaggie replied with a faint smile. Tears welled up in Lucifer's eyes as he hugged both Charlie and Vaggie tightly.
"Take care of each other, and if anything goes wrong, use this," he said, handing them each a pearl. "Step on it, and I'll come to you immediately." The girls smiled gratefully, returning his embrace. "Thank you, Dad. We have to go now." finally said Charlie.
With that, they stepped through as the portal closing behind them, leaving behind a worried Lucifer.
Charlie and Vaggie stood before the majestic gates of Heaven, their golden splendor towering above them. A radiant angel stood guard beside the gates, peering down at them from behind a tall podium, a grand register open before them.
"Hi, sorry to bother you, we have a meeting with, hm," Charlie began uncertainly, trying to recall the right name. Vaggie interjected smoothly, "With Sera. We're here to see Sera." The angel scrutinized them skeptically before they could finish.
"I highly doubt tha-" The angel's words were cut short by a melodious voice. "I'll handle this, thank you," a tall, stunning woman announced, descending gracefully to stand before Charlie and Vaggie.
She was a vision of beauty, her features serene yet commanding, her wings shimmering with ethereal light. Beside her stood a younger, equally enchanting girl, a miniature version of the tall woman but with an adorable charm of her own.
"Hello, Ms. Morningstar. I'm Sera," the tall, beautiful angel greeted with a warm smile. "And this is Emily." She gestured to the younger angel beside her, who beamed with excitement. "Hi! I'm thrilled to meet someone from down there. I'll show you around!" Emily chirped eagerly.
"Have fun, but remember to stay discreet, Emily. We don't want to cause a commotion," Sera reminded her gently. Emily nodded eagerly, taking the girls' hands as they entered Heaven.
As they ventured into the heavenly realm, they found themselves amidst a bustling city in the clouds. The streets were lined with charming shops adorned with shimmering signs advertising the perfect smile and offering rainbow-colored cotton candy. The air was filled with laughter and the scent of sweet treats, while gentle breezes carried the sound of heavenly music that seemed to emanate from every corner. It was a place of serene beauty and endless wonder, where every sight and sound delighted the senses.
At the end of the day Emily led Charlie and Vaggie through the Seraphim wing, their footsteps echoing softly on the pristine white floors. The walls gleamed with a pure, pearlescent sheen, adorned with intricate carvings depicting celestial scenes of angels and heavenly landscapes.
The Seraphim quarter exuded an aura of tranquility and elegance, with every detail meticulously crafted to perfection. Soft, ethereal light bathed the corridors, casting a warm glow that seemed to envelop them in a comforting embrace.
As they reached their room, Emily smiled warmly. "This the wing of the quarter where your father used to reside," she said, her voice filled with reverence. "Not that floor, he occupied the top one, as he was a member of the council." Charlie gazed around in awe, taking in the pristine beauty of their surroundings.
The room itself was spacious and airy, adorned with delicate furnishings and accents of gold and silver. The bed looked inviting, draped in layers of soft, billowing fabric that seemed to beckon them to rest.
Despite Vaggie's silent discomfort, Charlie was captivated by the serenity and purity of the Seraphim quarter, feeling a sense of belonging amidst the heavenly beauty that surrounded them.
"I hope you like your room; I picked it myself! It's next to mine, just three doors down at Room 77. Please come to me if you need anything. I'll let you settle down now," Emily said before leaving. Just as she was about to close the door, she remembered, "Oh yes, I forgot to tell you, the meeting is at 11! Alright then, goodnight!" With that, she closed the door behind her.
"Isn't she really nice?" Charlie exclaimed happily, impressed by Emily's eagerness and friendliness. "Yeah, well, don't take her as an example... She could be putting on an act," Vaggie cautioned, her tone suspicious. Charlie rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm sure that's not true, and it's a good sign! If everyone is as nice as her and Sera, tomorrow's meeting will go great!" She continued, changing into her pajamas.
"Yeah... I hope you're right, Charlie," Vaggie replied, still not entirely convinced. But maybe, just maybe, Heaven wouldn't be as bad this time.
And so, they settled into bed, embracing each other. Charlie's excitement was palpable, tinged with a hint of nervousness about the upcoming meeting. Meanwhile, Vaggie silently prayed to any presence that might lend an ear, her heart heavy with hope that everything would go smoothly. Together, they drifted off to sleep, their thoughts filled with anticipation for the challenges and possibilities that tomorrow would bring.
[...]
Back at the hotel, everyone else went about their day, leaving Lucifer to wrestle with his worries in solitude. He had his own suite at the hotel, reserved for his visits. Throughout the day, he found himself consumed by thoughts of his daughter's safety, pacing the luxurious confines of his temporary abode.
As the day dragged on, time seemed to crawl at an agonizingly slow pace. When night finally descended, Lucifer retreated to the balcony, watching as the sun dipped below the horizon in a blaze of fiery hues. Charlie and Vaggie had chosen to spend the night in Heaven, a diplomatic gesture aimed at fostering goodwill between Hell and Heaven, or so they claimed. Sera had mentioned something about showing the princess around, and Lucifer couldn't help but worry.
Rarely did Lucifer succumb to the temptation of a cigarette, but tonight was an exception. Stress gnawed at him relentlessly, and he found solace in the familiar ritual. After all, that wasn't what would kill the King of Hell was it?
With a muttered curse, he fumbled for his lighter, only to remember he was the King of Hell. A smirk tugged at his lips as his thumbs ignited with a crimson flame, casting an eerie glow in the dimness of the balcony. He leaned against the railing, the cigarette dangling between his fingers, as wisps of smoke spiraled into the night air.
The hotel shimmered in the embrace of the moonlight, its grandeur softened by the cloak of darkness. In the tranquility of the night, Lucifer found himself lost in thought, the rhythmic inhales and exhales of his smoke the only sound accompanying the symphony of silence.
In the serene stillness of the night, a faint sound caught Lucifer's attention, prompting him to raise an eyebrow in mild curiosity. With an air of nonchalance, he glanced over his shoulder, unfazed by the unexpected intrusion. "What kind of host enters their guest's chambers without prior invitation?" he remarked dryly before turning his attention back to the city below, his gaze drifting into the distance as he welcomed the embrace of the night.
As he stood there, leaning casually against the balcony railing, the soft glow of the moonlight bathed him in its ethereal radiance. His attire was simple yet refined—a crisp white shirt with rolled-up sleeves, paired with pristine white pants, as usual. His usually immaculate blond hair was tousled, strands falling carelessly across his forehead, adding a hint of disheveled charm to his striking features.
Alastor couldn't deny the undeniable truth: Lucifer was, without a doubt, a remarkably attractive individual. Well, it takes one to admit it, doesn't it? With a sense of casual ease, Alastor strolled over to Lucifer, leaving his cane and coat on a nearby chair, mirroring the king's relaxed demeanor.
Leaning against the balcony railing beside him, Alastor gazed out over the cityscape, his expression calm and contemplative. "I don't recall seeing you smoke before, Your Majesty," he remarked casually, his tone betraying no hint of judgment.
Lucifer glanced at the cigarette between his fingers and then extended it towards Alastor in a silent offer. However, Alastor politely declined with a shake of his head, his smile remaining unchanged. Lucifer took a puff, exhaling a plume of smoke into the night air.
"Don't tell Charlie," Lucifer said, "she hates when I smoke."
Alastor simply nodded in understanding, his gaze fixed on the twinkling lights of the city below. "Your secret's safe with me," he assured him softly.
Together, they stood in companionable silence, the quietude of the night enveloping them as Lucifer finished his cigarette.
"Care for a drink?" Lucifer finally offered, extinguishing his cigarette in an ashtray resting on the balcony. Alastor nodded in agreement, and with a snap of his fingers, Lucifer summoned two whisky glasses onto the small round table in the suite's mini-salon. Alongside the glasses materialized a bottle of Macallan 1940, its rich amber hue catching the ambient light.
As the glasses and bottle appeared before them, Lucifer poured a generous measure for each of them, the aroma of aged whisky filling the air with its warmth and complexity.
"I must say, his Majesty certainly knows his liquors," remarked Alastor, settling onto the low couch next to the table, alongside Lucifer.
The mini-salon exuded an aura of timeless elegance, reminiscent of a bygone era. Rich, dark wood furnishings adorned the space, their polished surfaces gleaming softly in the ambient light. Plush velvet upholstery graced the low couch where Alastor and Lucifer sat, offering both comfort and sophistication.
Antique accents dotted the room, adding to its old-school charm. A vintage globe stood proudly in one corner, while ornate candelabras adorned the walls, casting a warm, flickering glow that danced across the room. Bookshelves lined with leather-bound tomes added a touch of intellectual refinement to the space.
"So, what brings you to my chambers?" inquired Lucifer, settling onto the couch and handing Alastor his glass of whiskey. Alastor accepted the glass graciously, offering a nod of thanks as he reclined elegantly on the plush cushions, his legs crossed in a manner befitting his refined demeanor.
With a casual air, Lucifer lounged beside him, his posture relaxed and unbothered as he rested his arm against the armrest. He waited patiently for Alastor's response, his gaze steady and unwavering.
"Well, it seems we both share the concern for Charlie's well-being in Heaven," Alastor began, raising his glass in a silent toast before taking a sip of his drink. "And as they say, it's always better to spend time with those who understand your worries."
As Alastor raised his glass to Lucifer, waiting for the toast, Lucifer met his gaze steadily, their glasses clinking together in a silent affirmation. They both savored the rich flavor of the whisky as it danced on their tongues, the warmth of the liquor spreading through their bodies.
"Yeah, well, in this aspect, I suppose we do have some similarities," Lucifer remarked, finishing his glass in one swift motion before pouring himself another generous serving. Alastor observed him with a hint of concern, his gaze lingering on the bottle resting on Lucifer's thigh.
"Should I interpret that as a sign you intend to drown your worries in alcohol?" Alastor inquired gently, his tone laced with genuine concern.
"Disappointed?" Lucifer quipped, the bottle resting on his thighs beside his already half-empty glass.
"I wouldn't dare say so," Alastor replied, his expression steady as he reached for the bottle, gently removing it from Lucifer's grasp.
Lucifer rolled his eyes at the response. "Because I'm your king?" he prodded, a hint of skepticism in his voice.
Alastor shook his head slowly, placing the bottle back on the table with a measured movement. "The whiskey will go warm if you hold it like this," he remarked calmly, his gaze steady as he met Lucifer's eyes. "Not because you're my king, no," Alastor continued, his tone unwavering, "but because it takes more than a worried father to disappoint me."
Lucifer held Alastor's gaze for a moment before averting his eyes, a hint of embarrassment coloring his expression. "Whatever," he muttered, taking a sip of his whiskey as he looked away.
They stayed seated in silence, Lucifer peered at Alastor from behind his glass, studying the elegant figure before him. Alastor was dressed in a striking red suit, tailored to perfection and accentuated by a tasteful bowtie. His demeanor exuded an aura of refinement and sophistication, every movement deliberate and graceful. As he took another sip of his whiskey, his posture remained poised, a picture of timeless elegance amidst the dimly lit ambiance of the room.
Lucifer's gaze lingered on the demon's impeccable attire, a hint of annoyance flickering in his eyes. "Why are you always so... perfect?" he muttered, his tone tinged with frustration. "Isn't it uncomfortable?" he added, taking a sip of his drink, his irritation palpable.
Alastor raised an amused eyebrow at Lucifer's comment, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Hmm... I suppose it isn't," he conceded with a nonchalant shrug.
Lucifer made an annoyed noise with his tongue, reaching for the bottle of whiskey to pour himself a third drink. But before he could, Alastor intercepted the bottle, a subtle reminder of moderation. "Let's not abuse good things, Your Majesty," he advised, his tone calm yet firm.
"I'm not even drunk yet, you ass. Let me drink in peace or go away," Lucifer snapped, his frustration bubbling to the surface.
At that, Alastor sighed and poured the king another glass, "As you wish," he said, undeterred by Lucifer's irritation. "But I do think talking about your issues, might help more than drowning yourself in whiskey," he suggested, placing the bottle back on the table.
"Three glasses won't do much, don't worry," Lucifer retorted, his tone defensive.
Alastor regarded him with a cool, unimpressed gaze. "Seeing as you're three inches tall and look like you weigh not much more than a feather, I doubt that," he remarked dryly.
Lucifer's frown deepened, his patience wearing thin under the influence of alcohol and the weight of his worries for Charlie. "Fuck, can't you just stop being an ass for a second?" he said, his pent-up frustration boiling over. "Did you come here to have a pleasant drink and conversation, or just to fucking insult me? I thought you were worried about Charlie too and came here to find some compagny." Lucifer's facade of composure wavering.
Alastor remained silent for a moment, his expression unreadable as he processed the king's words. "Yes, I am worried for Charlie. I only merely noted that someone of your stature shouldn't be drinking that much, I do understand you are worried, but I also do know drinking won't do much about fixing the situation," he finally replied, his tone calm and measured.
Lucifer emptied his glass, his resentment still simmering beneath the surface. "Could've just done that without the insults, you jerk. And you do not, in fact, understand shit," he retorted bitterly.
With a thoughtful expression, Lucifer spun the empty glass in his hands, his gaze fixed on its bottom as if seeking answers in its transparent depths. "You don't know Heaven. You don't understand how much of a shit-hole it is. It's unsafe, especially for her or anyone from Hell. They could use her to hurt me, and I—" He faltered, his voice trailing off as his throat tightened with emotion.
"What am I going to do if she gets hurt? I can't lose her, I—" Lucifer's voice cracked, his resolve faltering as tears threatened to spill over. "They hate me, Alastor, it's dangerous for her," he confessed, his vulnerability laid bare for the demon before him.
Alastor carefully measured Lucifer's words before placing his glass back on the table. "I do know Heaven is a shit-hole," he replied, as he bristled at Lucifer's tone and all-knowing demeanor. Yet, he swiftly regained his composure. "Now, if anything happens, she has the pearl you gave her. So do not worry about nothing. You are putting way too much thought into something you have no control over."
"But—" started Lucifer, only to have Alastor place a finger on his lips, silencing him with a shake of his head. "No," Alastor insisted, his expression firm yet teasing.
Surprised by Alastor's action, Lucifer couldn't help but feel a blush creep onto his cheeks. Alastor, noticing the faint hint of red, smiled amusedly. "You are easily flustered for the King of Hell," he remarked, his tone teasing.
Lucifer looked at him, offended by the implication. "I beg your pardon? It's the alcohol, I'm not flustered," he protested, trying to maintain his composure.
Alastor chuckled elegantly, thoroughly entertained by Lucifer's reaction. "Oh, so now it's the alcohol? How convenient. No need to feel ashamed, Your Majesty. I know I'm irresistible," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Lucifer's embarrassment only grew, and he couldn't help but curse under his breath. "Oh, fuck you," he muttered, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Alastor looked at him, unimpressed, raising an eyebrow in amusement. Lucifer let out a frustrated groan. "Oh, shut up. I didn't mean it like that," he grumbled, his irritation fading into reluctant amusement. "I wouldn't have minded if you did." Alastor's answered with a knowing amused smile. The situation was undeniably amusing, and they both found themselves enjoying the lighthearted moment, fueled by the effects of the alcohol.
Lucifer found himself slowly smiling at the radio-demon. "You know, you kinda are," he admitted.
Alastor's curiosity piqued as he looked at Lucifer, his expression unreadable. "Irresistible, I mean. Or at least, attractive," Lucifer clarified, his words hanging in the air.
For a brief moment, Alastor's brain seemed to stutter, caught off guard by the unexpected compliment. He studied Lucifer, who was now reclining on the couch armrest, his head resting casually on his hand, an alluring smile gracing his lips. His striking features were accentuated by the subtle flush on his cheeks from the alcohol, adding a hint of allure to his already captivating appearance.
Alastor couldn't help but marvel at Lucifer's presence, realizing that he truly embodied temptation itself. In that moment, he found himself empathizing with Eve's predicament in the Garden of Eden—tempted to take a bite of the forbidden fruit, drawn in by the allure of Lucifer's irresistible charm and undeniable attractiveness.
"And aren't you going to do anything about it, Your Majesty?" Alastor inquired, his gaze unwavering as he held Lucifer's gaze.
Lucifer scoffed. "I'm the King; I shouldn't be the one doing anything," he replied, the tension between them palpable.
Alastor's eyebrow arched in amusement. "Oh, and I should? May I ask what I should be doing then?" he countered, his tone playful.
With a satisfied grin, Lucifer seized the moment, his hands gripping Alastor's collar. In a swift, calculated motion, he shifted his weight, straddling Alastor, a leg on either side of his tights. "Me," he declared, his voice low and filled with intent, a playful smile on his lips. Alastor looked at him, time stopping for a short second, before pressing his lips firmly against Lucifer's.
As their lips met, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the electric current of desire coursing between them. Lucifer's grip on Alastor's suit remained firm, anchoring them in the intensity of the moment. Lucifer surrendered to the kiss, his breath mingling with Alastor's as he eagerly responded, his hand finding its way into Lucifer's hair, fingers tangling in the golden locks with a sense of urgency. His other hand rested on Lucifer's hips, pulling him closer, their bodies moving in perfect synchrony as they lost themselves in the intoxicating embrace.
Lost in the intensity of their kiss, they only paused briefly to catch their breath before Alastor, with a swift and calculated motion, reversed their positions. With effortless strength, he lifted Lucifer and laid him back onto the couch, never breaking their passionate kiss. As they continued to exchange fervent kisses, Alastor raised one of Lucifer's legs to rest against his thigh, while his other hand found its place on the side of Lucifer's hip. With gentle insistence, his hand slid under the fabric of Lucifer's shirt, seeking the warmth of bare skin beneath, as their embrace grew even more fervent.
Lucifer's body quivered as they continued their intimate exchange, their passion escalating with each passing moment. Breaking the kiss, he let out a soft sigh, his gaze locking with Alastor's in a silent plea. "Your gloves..." he whispered, his voice filled with eagerness and longing.
Alastor nodded in understanding, his lips trailing from Lucifer's jaw to his neck as he slowly removed his glove, revealing his bare hand. With a gentle touch, he returned his hand to rest against Lucifer's exposed skin, the warmth of their contact sending shivers down the King's spine.
Lucifer's breath grew shallower with each caress, his senses overwhelmed by the intensity of their connection. As Alastor's touch ignited a fire within him, he couldn't help but lose himself in the electrifying embrace.
With a swift movement, Alastor discarded his own bow-tie, his fingers then deftly unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt with one hand. Maintaining unwavering eye contact with Lucifer, he conveyed his intent without the need for words. Though their lips had barely touched, Lucifer's desire was already evident.
Lucifer reclined on the couch, his legs spread open invitingly, his arms stretched above his head. His eyes held a pleading expression, silently urging Alastor closer. His lips were parted in anticipation, a soft sigh escaping as he felt the heat building between them.
The fabric of Lucifer's shirt was now rumpled and pushed up slightly, exposing the smooth contours of his stomach and pale hips. His pants appeared strained, too tight to contain the growing desire within him. As the tension between them intensified, the air crackled with anticipation, each moment drawing them closer.
"Fuck, what a sight," Alastor remarked as he gazed upon the King of Hell, his desire evident. Lucifer couldn't help but snort at the comment, as pulled Alastor by the collar for another heated kiss. "Language," Lucifer chided playfully, though the heat between them only intensified.
Alastor rolled his eyes in amusement before claiming Lucifer's lips once more, their bodies pressing together as their hips began to move in slow, tantalizing friction. Sensing Lucifer's tension, Alastor buried his face in the King's neck, grazing his skin with gentle bites that left behind marks of their passion.
"Just fucking touch me.." Lucifer's voice trembled with desire, his hands finding their way to Alastor's back as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensation. Alastor smiled against Lucifer's skin at the sound of his shaking voice. "Language," he teased, his hand gradually sliding under Lucifer's pants and boxer, seeking out his aching arousal.
"Shit-" Lucifer's voice wavered as Alastor's touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through him. Gripping onto Alastor's shirt, he arched his back, pleading for more. "Move..." he begged, his desire evident in every trembling breath.
Alastor's free hand teased Lucifer's sensitive tips, eliciting a whimper of pleasure from the King as he continued to kiss him, their lips moving in sync with the rhythm of their desire. "Ask nicely, Your Majesty," Alastor whispered between kisses, his touch sending shivers down Lucifer's spine.
"F-fuck.. I love when you call me that," Lucifer confessed, his hips moving in desperate search of release. Alastor smiled, amused by Lucifer's admission, and grabbed his face, making him look into his eyes.
"And do you like it when I touch you, Your Majesty?" Alastor's voice was laced with desire as he continued to stroke Lucifer with a slow, deliberate pace, teasing the tip of his member to make him whimper.
"Yes.. ha.. Yes.." Lucifer's response was breathless, his gaze locked with Alastor's as he surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure. Alastor gradually increased the speed of his strokes, his touch driving Lucifer to the brink of ecstasy.
As Lucifer felt himself on the brink of release, he was suddenly denied by Alastor's firm grip on his erection, stopping him from reaching orgasm. Trembling and desperate for release, Lucifer looked up at Alastor, his body shaking with need, his hips moving frantically in search of release. "W-why? Let me come..." he pleaded, his voice desperate and pleading. "P-please..." he begged, his eyes pleading with Alastor for mercy.
Alastor felt like his mind was on the verge of melting from the overwhelming desire that Lucifer ignited within him. The King of Hell was intoxicating, and Alastor couldn't resist the allure of his pleading gaze. With a momentary pause to take in the sight once more, Alastor swiftly removed Lucifer's pants and boxers in one smooth motion.
Descending slowly, Alastor pressed delicate kisses along Lucifer's trembling body, his eyes meeting Lucifer's, after licking his fingers, Alastor slid them into Lucifer's mouth, his other hand still stroking him in slow, deliberate motions. Lucifer eagerly sucked on Alastor's fingers, his eyes locked into the other's.
Alastor then, slowly slid his hand to Lucifer's entrance. With no warning, he eased two fingers inside Lucifer, eliciting a whimper of pleasure and pain from the smaller man. "G-gosh," Lucifer arched his back, his legs trembling as pleasure surged through his body. The radio-demon continuing to move his fingers inside him, opening him up with each thrust. Lucifer tried reaching, for his shaft, but Alastor swiftly stopped him with a tap.
"No. Only on my fingers," Alastor commanded, his voice firm yet filled with desire. Lucifer protested with a whimper, but Alastor silenced him with a passionate kiss, his hand working diligently to open him, the other one gripped to his thigh, holding him in place.
"Sh-shit!" Lucifer moaned, his back arching as he surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure. Gripping the pillow behind his head, he opened his legs wider, offering himself completely to Alastor's touch. "T-there!" he gasped, guiding Alastor to the spot that drove him wild with pleasure.
Alastor nodded in understanding and intensified his movements, pushing Lucifer to his limits until finally, with a long, profound moan of pleasure, Lucifer reached his climax. His eyes closed, rolling back, as his entire body shook with the intensity of his release, leaving him breathless.
Alastor watched in awe as Lucifer reached his climax, the sight before him nothing short of mesmerizing. As Lucifer's body convulsed with pleasure, his breaths coming in ragged gasps, Alastor couldn't tear his gaze away.
After the intensity of his orgasm subsided, Lucifer lay there, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. His body trembled slightly, still tingling from the aftershocks of pleasure. Legs spread open, his skin glistening with sweat and coated with cum and spit. Lucifer's eyes gazed unfocused into the void, lost in post-orgasm bliss.
Alastor, could help but to let out a satisfied smile. He then swiftly started unbuttoning Lucifer's now ruined shirt, to get him cleaned off. Gently, he cradled the exhausted King in his arms, allowing him to rest against his chest as he removed the soiled garment, using it to wipe away any remnants of their passionate encounter. With Lucifer now completely naked, Alastor took a moment to admire his flawless skin, acknowledging the perfection that seemed almost otherworldly, perhaps befitting of an angel.
Summoning a set of luxurious red silk chamber robes with a snap of his fingers, Alastor dressed the King before carefully carrying him to bed, where sleep was already beckoning. "Stay..." whispered Lucifer as Alastor laid him down.
"Of course, your Majesty," Alastor replied softly, changing into matching silk robes before joining the slumbering Lucifer in bed.
As Lucifer drifted in and out of consciousness, he murmured Alastor's name. With a gentle smile, Alastor responded, "Yes, sleep now."
Lucifer, half asleep, acknowledged Alastor's presence with a simple statement, "You aren't that bad."
Alastor snorted softly. "Yes, you already mentioned I was 'decent,' if I recall correctly," he said, in an amused and calm tone.
Lucifer's tired voice held a note of gratitude as he expressed his thanks to Alastor for staying with him. "You're welcome... Now sleep," Alastor whispered, his lips finding Lucifer's in a tender kiss, imbued with a deeper intimacy than any they had shared before.
"Goodnight, Alastor," Lucifer murmured, tired as sleep claimed him.
"Goodnight, your Majesty," Alastor replied softly, holding him close as they drifted into a peaceful slumber together.