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Lucifer would be the first to admit he wasn’t sure if his fantasy of eating dinner with Alastor would pan out. Copious amounts of sex interspersed with drama didn’t mean the more mundane moments would be a good time and as much as he’d hoped and dreamed it would go well, it was still a relief to be proven right.
First, it was good to see Alastor’s table manners from family dinner night were in full force as he scooped up mouthfuls of rice and mystery meat, patting at his mouth with a napkin between bites. At least he was a tidier eater than when he was scarfing down loan sharks and only talked between bites rather than around mouthfuls as Angel was wont to do and seriously, Charlie’s cooking was dubious enough without a visual of it mostly chewed.
What Lucifer wasn’t expecting was how genuinely funny Alastor could be. More than once, Lucifer found himself laughing around a mouthful of noodles while Alastor recounted stories from his life as a radio host, particularly the one where he was discussing the current state governor’s reelection campaign and the man kept breaking explosive wind while they were on-air.
“Honestly, I was running out of excuses for how many cars could be backfiring outside of our studio,” Alastor said. He wielded his chopsticks with impressive skill as both an eating device and a conversational gesture. “Every mechanic in the city must have been anticipating a rush of customers with carburetor issues. Unfortunately, the only broken carburetor was in an enclosed room with me and I don't mind saying it was one of the most difficult shows I've ever done. Even a professional such as myself can have difficulty maintaining their composure while trying not to suffocate.”
Whatever comment Lucifer was going to add to that -something about politicians always being full of hot air, har har— fizzled out of his mind when Alastor turned to lean towards the table, exchanging the carton in his hand for a different one.
That in itself wasn’t notable but that it put his beribboned tail on display was more than simply a distraction.
Lucifer had to grudgingly admit, it was fairly impressive how many silent excuses Alastor could come up with to lean over the table. Napkins, extra chopsticks when he dropped one of his to the floor, as if he hadn’t just been twirling them between his fingers the same way he did his microphone, and once, for no reason at all, he just needed to stretch across the table and rearrange the packets of soy sauce and hot mustard, right, that was imperative, now wasn’t it.
What he was going to end up with was a set of teeth in his ass.
Here he was again, practically shoving his tail into Lucifer's face, yeah, okay, there needed to be a lesson taught here. Teasing had consequences and Lucifer could not be held responsible when his restraint broke.
With a single gesture, all the cartons of food relocated to line up neatly at the edge of the table, including the one pulled directly from Alastor's hands.
He made a protesting sound, already reaching for the container again, "I beg your pardon, I was still eating tha—hey!"
Lucifer caught him by the hips and dragged Alastor into his lap and if he thought the difference in their height made it ridiculous, he didn’t say so. Only squirmed and fussed until Lucifer was forced to tighten his grip just to keep him still, good god, how was he supposed to keep even a shred of control with this brat’s ass rubbing against his crotch.
Alastor still could have gotten loose, he could have yanked himself out of Lucifer’s hold, he could have melted into a shadow and vanished, he could have even cut Lucifer down with a well-aimed icy insult. That he didn’t was thrilling, as arousing as having his tail right within reach and Lucifer didn’t touch it, not yet, waited until Alastor gave in and stilled, his head twisting within normal constraints to ask over his shoulder, “Did you need something?”
"Oh, please, do excuse my manners,” Lucifer said lightly. “I assumed you wanted my attention." His eyes were busy greedily taking in the sight of Alastor right in his lap, the way his pajama top rode up, just a little, baring an inch of tantalizing skin right above his waistband that begged for a mouth to investigate.
"Whatever gave you that idea?" Laughter curled around every word and Alastor tried to wriggle again, thwarted by Lucifer’s hands tightening with bruising force on his hips.
Lucifer groaned out, "Maybe you shaking your ass in my face?"
"I was doing no such thing. I do wonder what goes on in your mind, it's always sex, sex, se--ah!"
A brief blurt of feedback squealed through the air as Lucifer dragged his fingers through the silky fur of Alastor’s tail, sinking them into that thick softness. He asked, sweetly, "What was that?"
"Nnng!" Alastor’s fingers flexed, digging holes into the cushion under them that already showed signs of abuse from earlier events, god, what Lucifer wouldn’t give to see his face right now. Almost as good was the way his legs kicked out gracelessly when Lucifer did it again, narrowly missing knocking over a carton of Lo Mein. Alastor fell back against him, either reflexively or in a desperate attempt to make him stop. Either way, it failed, Lucifer deliberately rubbed his thumb right at the base of his tail and static clipped through the room like morse code.
Lucifer shifted enough to murmur against the softness of Alastor’s cheek, "If you need me to stop, say so."
"I can…take…whatever you give,” Alastor gritted out, even as he choked on a cry when Lucifer gave that silky puff a squeeze, crumpling ribbon and fur in his grip.
Yeah, Lucifer wasn’t so sure about that, but it would do for now. For as tall as Alastor was, his weight was no barrier to angelic strength and it was entirely too easy to lift him despite his startled protests, pushing him down to the floor, sprawled face down over the table. Gorgeous on his knees, his ass high in the air, presenting that pretty tail and the view might not have lasted long if Lucifer didn’t snap his fingers again. The stack of paper napkins swirled into the air, weaving themselves into an impromptu rope that wound itself around Alastor’s wrists. Not really binding him, only the illusion of it, symbolic bondage and he could have torn himself free in seconds.
Could have and didn’t, he didn’t, only sighed out, long-sufferingly, “You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re gorgeous,” Lucifer said, hoarsely, and, holy shit, the way Alastor’s tail shot up, bright crimson still tied with the crumpled bow, oh, hell yes, such a narcissist.
“Gorgeous,” Lucifer repeated. He pushed Alastor’s legs further apart and fell to his own knees between them, palming the scant curves of his ass through the thin silk of his pajamas, “Gorgeous, so gorgeous like this.”
“Then do something about it!” Alastor snarled and yeah, Lucifer could do that. He hooked two fingers into the waistband of his pants and pulled, dragging them down until they fell to puddle at Alastor’s knees. He wore nothing underneath, nothing but bare skin and invitation and Lucifer didn’t hesitate to take it. He cupped Alastor’s ass in both hands, parted the cheeks to expose the tight pucker of his hole and leaned in to press the tip of his tongue against it.
“Oh!” Garbled static clouded the air, “What are you…don’t…” Don’t collapsed into whining feedback and hey, could be don’t stop, Lucifer wasn’t going to guess.
He only pushed his tongue in deeper, breaching that furled hole and forcing his tongue in, his own groans muffled into what curves of flesh there were. So tight and Lucifer rubbed his tongue there, licking into him, generously wetting that little hole while Alastor squirmed and whined under him. When he finally pulled back and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, Lucifer was satisfied to see the shine of saliva left behind on that pink pucker, all but begging him to take more. More, yeah, that sounded like an excellent idea.
Lucifer fumbled open his own pants, shuffling forward to press the head of his cock against that damp hole, already pushing in and Alastor let out a squeal, his own voice and static both. It almost stopped him, concern fighting through the haze of his arousal but there were no words of protest, only the hitch of Alastor’s hips towards him and fuck, fuck, yes. Lucifer pushed in deep, strangling out an embarrassing sound of his own, eyes shut tight and tasting his own sweat dampening his lips at the vice grip of Alastor’s ass around his cock.
Waiting was an impossibility, Lucifer was already drawing out and shoving back into that tight heat, driving into Alastor relentlessly and listening to every gorgeous sound he made. The volume only increased when Lucifer managed to drag a hand up to his tail, clutching that silky fur, the ribbon tangling around his fingers and radio static screaming around him as he thrust again and again, fucking into him, lost in the rhythm of it.
The table legs slid on the rug, cartons falling and scattering rice and noodles across the floor and Lucifer did not care. There was nothing but the tight heat surrounding his cock and Alastor beneath him whimpering and writhing in a beautifully desperate display, his hips rocking up towards Lucifer’s, and the loud slap of their flesh meeting as Lucifer slammed into him.
It was all too much far too soon. Lucifer's eyes closed without his permission, orgasm threatening, hot and thick low in his belly and all he could do was ride it out, biting down on the cry that caught in his throat, escaping as a hiss through his teeth, glottal and thick. He pulled out right as the force of it dragged him to ecstasy, coming across Alastor’s ass and tail, pulses of come landing on silky fur and smearing into the mangled bow.
Lucifer sagged back, bracing his elbows on the sofa and admired his handiwork with blurry satisfaction. So fucking pretty like this, little quivers running through Alastor, who stayed sprawled across the table, a perfectly beautiful ruin. Pajamas hanging half off him, alternately puddled at his knees and pushed up to his shoulders, tail and back spattered with gold-tinged come. His cheek was pressed to the tabletop, ears drooping, his hands dangling limply off the edge and wrists still wrapped in the torn remnants of his napkin bonds, huh, when did that happen—
Oh, um, there was probably some aftercare that should be happening here instead of Lucifer just appreciating the view, and manners dictated that the one who fucked the other across a table amongst the Chinese food be the caretaker.
"You okay?" Lucifer asked, almost guiltily. He leaned forward and set his hand on the small of Alastor’s back in what he hoped was a grounding way and would not lead to ‘don’t fucking touch me’.
Alastor started to say something, his voice clicking and soundless, cleared his throat and tried again.
"I," Alastor said, raspy low, "believe I need to purchase a spare set of pajamas."
A sad trombone noise followed and Lucifer laughed, relieved. He flicked the remnants of the bow where it hung from the muss of his tail, lank and dripping, "Probably could use some new accessories, too.”
Alastor only hummed a confirmation and didn’t protest when Lucifer gently pulled him to sit up, dragging him back into his lap again. This time there were no teasing wriggles, only exhausted capitulation and Lucifer held him close, rubbing his back soothingly. He’d clean them and the room up soon enough. For now, they could sit here and if this was what a private dinner with Alastor was going to be like, Lucifer couldn’t wait until they tried kebabs.
-finis-