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Lucifer hummed happily, palms pressed against the glass. Inside the tank, a school of pinfish moved across the water, light catching on their white scales, making their yellow markings seem to glow. No matter how quickly they moved—darting out of the way of a bigger fish, spooked by the movements of the visitors peering through the tank—they never collided, never faltered, as if this was a dance they’d practiced.
The pinfish weren’t rare or particularly exciting, but the way they moved reminded him of the murmuration of starlings—now that had been a fun discovery! Totally unforeseen and yet so right—and the birds had just known…
A shadow glided towards them, a sudden flicker of white and the pinfish scattered, the shadow slowly taking on the light brown skin of a tiger shark, accompanied by a retinue of pilotfish and remora. As the shark neared, Lucifer became aware of a vaguely familiar voice, one that had evidently been speaking for some time.
“And that’s not even half of it! You know, there was this one tiger shark that travelled a distance equivalent to the world’s circumference—and she did that in only three years! Scientists are starting to think this behaviour isn’t uncommon—”
Lucifer swivelled his head to one side. The sinner beside him was wearing a baseball cap with ‘Captain Jaw-some’ embroidered upon it, a t-shirt with the words ‘Ask me about my favourite shark’ on it, shorts that clashed with his eye-waveringly bright Hawaiian shirt and loafers.
Lucifer was pretty sure he would remember such crimes against fashion, but nothing came to mind—until the sinner stepped back to get a better shot with his phone camera, and Lucifer took in the rectangular flatscreen that acted as his head. The guy who’d been bad-mouthing Charlie and trapped him in a box! What was his name again? Box? No—
“I wish you would travel the circumference of the globe—give the rest of us some peace,” said a voice in a stage-whisper on Lucifer’s other side.
Lucifer grit his teeth. Now, this voice was immediately and annoyingly familiar. A glance to his right revealed the aggravating red guy, wearing his usual suit and looking at the tank with the air of one who had hit the limits of boredom and was only minutes away from rending something limb from limb.
From the way that the bellhop was looking at Box, Lucifer had a pretty good idea who that victim would be—and as he was currently standing between them, he carefully sidled away, working his way to the next viewing location.
This spot gave a vantage point over a hole in the rock that, according to the plaque, contained a moray eel. Lucifer pressed himself up against the glass expectantly.
“You know why they’re called tiger sharks? The juveniles are born with dots that become stripes over time—though by the time they’re adults, most tiger sharks have lost their stripes completely.”
Ugh. Was the moray eel hearing this? No wonder he was staying in his hole—
“If that’s your idea of a fun fact, Vox, then it’s no surprise your TV career tanked.” An elbow dug into Lucifer’s side.
Lucifer turned around to glare at the pair of them. “What the hell?” he demanded. “Are you following me?”
Box and the bellhop blinked at him, a brief ‘signal not found’ flicking over Box’s screen while the bellhop’s smile stayed unnervingly still.
“Uh,” Box said eventually. “We’re on a date.”
Now it was Lucifer’s turn to blink. “Wait. What?”
“A date!” The bellhop interjected in that smarmy tone that he thought made him sound charming. “An outstandingly tedious courtship ritual that anyone with half a brain would recognise as the waste of time and energy it is—”
Lucifer flapped a hand at him for silence. “That’s nice for you,” and unexpected, but wouldn’t Charlie be pleased to know that her therapy sessions had some effect after all? “but I have an eel to watch.” He pointedly turned back to the tank.
Box and the bellhop continued to look at him.
“Um,” Box said after a moment. “We’re on the date. You and me, I mean.”
Lucifer’s jaw dropped—much like that of a moray eel attempting to intimidate. “Wait. When did that happen?”
“The charity auction? You know, the donate-a-thon?” Box looked at him hopefully. “The hotel was fundraising for orphans or some shit like that?”
Lucifer pursed his mouth. “Charlie did say something about charitable endeavours being good for lost souls…” And there had been a dinner with a lot of boring speeches and he’d zoned out—
“And you called yourself a news anchor? You cannot even get the simplest of facts straight. She was fundraising to pay for the repairs to Pentagram City after some fiendish brute destroyed an entire block in a fit of rage.”
“Some fiendish brute? Al, everyone knows that was you—”
Augh. Did they ever stop arguing? Lucifer rubbed his head. He was going to have a migraine before they even got to see the jellyfish—
A memory surfaced. Alastor and Box and they were not, for once, arguing, if only because their mouths were otherwise occupied—
“Anyway! The highlight of the night was the bachelor auction, especially when it was announced that your majesty was the top prize—” Box paused to leer at him and yup, it was hard to forget a tongue that blue, “and well, not to brag or anything, but no one else even came anywhere near to outbidding me.”
The bellhop scoffed. “No one else was so desperate, you mean!”
Box shot him a quick glare, but quickly turned back to Lucifer. “Anyway! Uh, I won the auction and here we are.” His screen displayed a frown. “Did you really not know?”
“Of course I knew,” Lucifer lied—and why was he lying to a sinner? What did he care what they thought of him? “I was more wondering about why the bellhop’s here.” Amazing save! Lucifer, you’ve still got it—
“A very good question.” Box narrowed his eyes. “One that I’m still wondering about myself.”
From the grin that settled over the bellhop’s face, he knew damn well that Lucifer had not known. “Why, I’m here as his majesty’s handler, of course! We can’t let him out in public unsupervised, you know, not with all those nasty sinners around!” His grin grew more pointed. “Especially not sinners with a track record of kidnapping said king and siphoning his power—”
Box rolled his eyes. “I only did that once—”
Box and the bellhop seemed to be distracted again. Lucifer turned back to the tank, only to see a a ripple in the sand as the eel vanished into the murky shadows at the other end of the tank.
Tank—
“Ha! Tanked!” He snickered. “That actually wasn’t bad.”
Red guy paused his argument with Box to gaze at him witheringly. “Unlike that reaction time. How long ago did I make that quip?”
Box sighed and placed an arm around Lucifer’s shoulders, steering him back towards the tiger sharks. “Appreciate the concern, but his majesty’s in safe hands—no need for you to hang around.”
“Trust us with your monarch? I think not!” The bellhop sang his rejoinder but his grin was savage: the sharks were not the only creatures out for blood. “No, I am not taking my eyes off Lucifer for one moment.”
“So voyeurism’s your kink then? Look, Al—”
Lucifer regarded the tank glumly, willing the pinfish to return. He was not sure how much of this he could endure, even if it was for Charlie—
A crackle of static heralded an intercom announcement. “Bros and hoes, an announcement: FYI the penguin feeding is about to take place at the penguin enclosure—”
“THEY HAVE PENGUINS?” Lucifer spotted a sign in the distance—Penguins—and sprinted towards it.
They had penguins. Seals too, but the penguins were where it was at. Lucifer pressed himself against the glass, watching as the birds within alternately groomed and preened.
A hand fell on his shoulder, making him jump. “Found you.”
Lucifer looked up to see the red guy looking down at him, and expression on his face of—well, it almost looked like amused tolerance, but both of those were far too positive emotions to appear on his countenance. “Huh?”
But the bellhop was already turning away. “Over here!”
Box was panting as he approached. “Take it easy, your majesty! Those penguins aren’t going anywhere.”
“Out of shape, already?” The bellhop shook his head. “You only just got that body, too!”
“That’s the problem, you smart arse! It’s brand new—matter of fact, I’m still getting it configured right.” Box cleared his throat. “I was kind of hoping your majesty might help me with some…fine tuning.”
Lucifer blinked. Had he told Box he was curious about just what exactly was under his screen? Normally mortals—or those that had been mortal once—had a lot of hang ups about being taken apart—
“And that is precisely why you cannot be trusted to be alone with his Majesty! Really, Vox—and in public too!”
“No one’s paying any attention to us,” Box shot back. “With both of us dressed down, we blend right in—not like you in that tacky suit.” He gave a theatrical wince before turning back to Lucifer. “So your majesty, how about we ditch the antique over here, and proceed with the x-rated portion of this date—”
Lucifer was still struggling to parse the abrupt shift the conversation had taken, when a movement within the tank caught his attention. “AAAAHHH! DID YOU SEE THAT?”
Box scrambled back. “Who died?”
Lucifer made a sound of unimaginable glee, flapping his hand at the penguin. “He gave her a pebble! A PEBBLE!”
“We’re not in danger?”
The red guy exhaled loudly. “A Morningstar trait. They appear to be incapable of moderating their excitement—”
They didn’t get it. Lucifer grabbed Box and red guy by their arms, pulling them up to the glass. “Penguins give pebbles to show they care and want to build a nest together. That’s practically a proposal.”
“What, seriously?” Box squinted at the birds beyond the glass. “A pebble?”
Lucifer gazed fondly at the birds, his expression misty. “You know, these little blue penguins were some of the last birds created? There was supposed to be a distinct separation—birds in the air, fish in the sea—they weren’t supposed to interact. But I couldn’t help but wonder, what if?”
“Wait.” Box’s tone was now slightly strangled. “When you say ‘created’—you’re talking actual Creation?”
“The senior angels were all against it, of course. I got told to stick to nebulas and galaxies—‘But Lucifer, you’re so good at galaxies!’—Ugh—but I kept working on Gabriel, and after flying fish, well, they really didn’t have a reason to object. Not that I was allowed any part of their creation at all—but I like to think I gave them the idea.”
Static popped beside him. “Naturally. Because creating galaxies—”
A little further down the tank, a penguin shuffled out of her burrow, blinked sleepily, and waddled purposefully towards the water. About to swim? Lucifer dashed to the underwater section of the enclosure so he could see her swim. “Look look look!”
Some hours later, they sat in the cafe attached to the aquarium, Box grumbling as he joined Alastor and Lucifer at their table. “Forty bucks for three coffees? These prices are a sin.”
“—but you can’t just put a bird in the water and expect it to thrive—I mean, obviously! Even so, it took us a while to land on feathers. I mean, skin was working out fine for bats so—”
“Naturally! What did you expect when suggesting this place for a date? These places prey on desperate individuals like yourself.”
Box glared at red guy. “You are aware that I just paid for your coffee?”
The bell hop’s lip curled. “Like I said: desperate.”
“—but when you divide that by infinity, it comes out as roughly equal to the amount of feathers on a sparrow, so we knew we were on the right track. Of course, there was still the rigorous health and safety testing to go through—so many cool features died! Penguins were going to have spikes, to give them more of an edge against leopard seals but—”
A waitress who looked very much like she’d just left the set of the Living Dead lurched towards them bearing a tray. “Espresso?” The bellhop raised his hand. “Single-origin double-shot latte with almond milk?”
“That’s me.” Box leaned back so that she could place the drink in front of him.
“Caramel Frappuccino, extra whipped cream.” The drink placed in front of Lucifer was practically an ice-cream sundae in coffee form. Lucifer happily began stirring the whipped cream into the coffee, only to become aware that he was on the receiving end of two very judgemental looks. “What?”
The bellhop simply shook his head, nursing his espresso with an air of distinct superiority.
Box cleared his throat. “So, your majesty… I was thinking that we could swing by the sharks again on our way out and then wrap up the day with dinner.” His voice took on a purring note. “I got us reservations at this excellent sushi place, really exclusive—”
“Sushi?” The bellhop raised an eyebrow. “After admiring the fish, you’re going to eat them?” He scoffed. “Which one of your assistants came up with that great idea?”
Box flushed. “Like you’ve got any grounds to comment! At least it’s fresh—not like the roadkill you consume—”
“Aged venison is a delicacy—and sinner sashimi a real treat! If you weren’t stuck in the culinary conservatism, you might—”
Lucifer had already stopped listening to them. He slurped his Frappuccino, wondering how best to suggest that they return to the penguins…
His eyes fell on a gaudy sign, and he brightened. “I’m just gonna look at the gift shop a moment.”
Red guy and Box gave him a nod and a wave respectively, not pausing their argument.
“Sushi’s cultural—something you know nothing about—”
“Ha! And when have you cared about culture? Admit it—you’re only into raw fish because it allows you to pretend you’re one of those sharks you so admire—”
The gift shop was supremely disappointing. No ducks—not a single one—and the penguin merchandise was severely lacking. Still, Lucifer found a cute snow globe with two penguins standing together that reminded him of Charlie and Vagonika, and even gifts for Box and red guy.
Box was right—these prices were sinful. Lucifer put his wallet away with a wince—should he be proud or disgusted? “I’m kind of surprised you don’t have any shark plushies,” he commented to the shop assistant. “Seems like a wasted opportunity.”
The harried teen sighed. “We usually do. But this girl came in this morning and paid us to take them all of the shelf. She was muttering something about ‘already a big enough hashtag embarrassment’ and ‘wanting to preserve what little public image he still fucking has.’”
“Huh.” Lucifer frowned, but could think of no possible explanation for the sinner’s behaviour—but then, when had sinners’ use of their free will ever made any sense at all? “Weird.”
“You said it. So, you want these gift wrapped?”
“Please.”
Lucifer left the gift shop feeling very pleased with himself. He’d circumvented the fact he wasn’t entirely sure what his companions names were by getting the shark tooth wrapped in blue—for Box’s tongue—and the alligator tooth in red—for the bellhop’s annoying everything. He approached their table, mentally composing a letter of complaint about the incredible dearth of ducks, both in the aquarium and in the gift shop.
“I would be balls deep in Lucifer right now if you did not keep fucking interrupting,” Box growled.
Lucifer came to a complete halt, clutching his purchases to his chest. He must have misheard—
The bellhop sneered. “In your wet dreams! Read the room, you inveterate creep—I’ve got more of a chance of seducing him than you do.”
“Ha! What do you know about seduction?”
“I know desperation is a major turn-off—”
Lucifer was rooted to the spot, his cheeks a flaming shade of yellow. How dare they discuss him—and in public too—as if his love-life was a joke—
Which it kind of was, to be fair. Lucifer gulped, darting a look around the cafeteria, but the other guests seemed more interested in placating their screaming kids than on anything else.
“Who’s desperate?” Box continued. “I’m not serially single—unlike some I could mention.”
“Quality over quantity—though I understand that might be too complex a concept for you to grasp!”
Lucifer spun around, intending to march right back to the gift shop and demand a refund. He only took a step before reeling off-balance. He flung out an arm, regaining his footing.
Why was he so upset? He despised sinners, these two especially.
Didn’t he?
“You might have had a chance when I was reduced to a tablet, but now I got the whole package back—face it, Al, you do not have a chance!”
A memory surfaced—a memory deliberately thrust aside, buried, of him curled against the bellhop, arms wrapped around Box’s screen, the mechanical hum of Box’s surveillance network forming a comforting barrier of white noise between him and the world, the satisfaction of release mingling with the sheer relief of not being alone—
“No matter how many times you upgrade, you’ll still be you—and that is all the chance I need.”
“He kissed me first—”
“Out of pity—”
The therapy sessions. Lucifer stifled a groan. It didn’t seem credible he’d forgotten—had he forgotten? Or had he just shoved any thoughts of that weird…whatever it was they’d had…so deeply down inside they were as good as buried? That last session… Charlie had been so worried and they’d neither of them said anything afterwards… He hadn’t even protested when Charlie declared an end to unlicensed therapy sessions, too hurt by their silence to risk putting himself out there again.
But it seemed Box had also missed their sessions? Or at the very least, missed him?
“There is an easy way to settle this.”
Lucifer was dragged out of his thoughts. When the bellhop purred like that, it was an indication of danger.
Box recognised this too, his expression apprehensive. “Oh?”
The bellhop’s smile was all teeth. “Suppose we make a—”
“I’m not fucking making another deal with you.”
A note of scorn entered the bellhop’s voice. “—a wager. First to seduce his majesty has the claim on his time and attention. The loser will abandon any attempt to distract him with trivial nonsense.”
“What’s the catch?” Box wondered out loud. “You can’t really believe that you’ve got a chance at this.”
Lucifer was wondering the same thing. He swallowed, aware that his heart was beating way too fast, and his throat was dry.
“His Majesty is a man of—albeit occasional—taste and class,” the bellhop sipped his espresso calmly. “I know how to appeal to him—and your style of vulgar display is not going to cut it.”
“It worked so far, didn’t it?” Box countered. “Besides, what do you consider a seduction? We’re not talking about flashing ankles or holding hands or anything here.”
The red guy shuddered. “Neither are we using ‘balls-deep’ as any measure of success.”
“Whichever of us his majesty goes home with at the end of the night,” Box decided.
“Using ducks or any form of bird to distract him is off the table entirely,” the red guy interjected.
Lucifer pouted. At this rate, no one would be having any fun—
Fun?
Lucifer swallowed. He turned away from the table, spotted a small tank in the corner of the cafe and made his way to it. He placed his palms flat against the cold glass. The guppies within stared at him.
Wondering what the hell was wrong with him. Lucifer took a deep breath. I could ask myself the same thing. Did ask himself, on a regular basis, in fact.
He was the sin of Pride—the literal devil. And instead of being outraged that two sinners had the audacity to make a game out of his affections he was—Lucifer paused to try and sort through the many emotions jostling for dominance within—intrigued. Hurt, yes, and angry, but a part of him was exalted—they’d not forgotten!
Besides, he could use this ‘seduction’ to his advantage. Lucifer smirked, coming to a conclusion. Box and the bellhop had no idea what they were in for.
“Come to think of it, where is—”
Lucifer slid back into his seat, setting his shopping bag down beside him. “I’m back!” He announced.
The bellhop raised an eyebrow. “No oversized penguin plushie? I am impressed by your self-restraint.”
Lucifer pouted. “They were all out. I’m going to write a letter of complaint.”
“Of course you are.” The bellhop smirked, patting his arm.
Had the seduction started already? Lucifer fought a blush and applied himself to his Frappuccino. “Yeah. Um—”
“You got something on your face.” Box swiped a finger over Lucifer’s cheek, coming away with a smudge of whipped cream. He locked eyes with Lucifer, tongue curling around his finger as he swiped up the cream. “Delicious.”
“What a crude display—”
Lucifer’s mouth twitched. That tongue had distinct potential… This was going to be fun after all.
***
What followed was one of the most enjoyable afternoons Lucifer had spent in a long time. It turned out that the water feature outside the aquarium attracted a large population of hell-ducks. Lucifer had immediately insisted on feeding them. When Box had tried to lead him away, he’d simply squeezed his thigh and that had been enough persuasion for Box to order an assistant to procure a loaf of bread (changed to oats at Lucifer’s insistence).
The bellhop had been scornful about this constituting cheating, until Lucifer had taken his hand to point out a seldom seen black crested Greed-duck, at which point he’d also stopped trying to make Lucifer leave.
Sadly, he did not allow Lucifer to wade into the pond. “Your majesty can admire the ducks from here.” He took firm hold of Lucifer’s arm. “Your feathers are not water-proof, are they?”
“No,” Lucifer conceded mournfully.
“You say that again!” A furious shout caught their attention. Box was rolling up the sleeves of his garish shirt, snarling at a bewildered looking eel-sinner. “Go on, I dare you!”
“But sharks are smooth—”
The bellboy hissed. “Am I the only one with any sense of decorum?” Still holding Lucifer’s arm, he snatched Box’s sleeve. Shadows engulfed them, and then a moment later the three of them stood on the street in front of a sushi restaurant, whose tinted windows hinted at VIP patrons.
“What did you do that for?” Box spun around to confront the bellhop. “I was in the middle of a debate!”
The bellhop’s glare was acid. “His Majesty is getting hungry.”
As if on cue, Lucifer’s stomach rumbled. “I could go for something to eat…”
“And I have chosen the perfect place!” Box motioned to the restaurant behind them. “So sorry, Al, but this reservation is for two…”
The bellhop smiled blandly. “Oh, I am sure they’ll manage to squeeze me in.”
Weirdly enough, the stammering maître d’ did not have any difficulty finding a seat for the radio demon, even apologising that one had not already been set out. Box fumed, but the red guy settled into his chair with every appearance of enjoyment. “What are the odds that sinner is on the menu, do you think?”
“This isn’t Cannibal Town, geez.” Box wriggled his chair closer to Lucifer’s. “Can I make a recommendation, your majesty? The sashimi platter is top-notch, and there’s a rumour they import their sake from earth.”
That sounded promising, but before Lucifer could enquire, the bellhop hissed. “Interesting that you are so dismissive of cannibalism while in a sushi restaurant—or do you not want to think too hard about the fact you have gills?”
“All I’m saying is that this is a sophisticated place—not like that old-timey rubbish that people mistake for quaintness—”
They were off again. Lucifer tuned them out, perusing the menu and making his order. The sake was not the only thing that was imported from earth—the rice had a sweetness that did not come from hell, and Lucifer hummed happily.
How long had it been since he’d last snuck a trip to earth? Not since that business with the kid in Georgia. Lilith had put her foot down hard, after that—and she’d had a good point. With Charlie still figuring out her place in the world, anything that smacked of increased demonic activity was liable to give rise to more anti-christ rumours—ridiculous! Charlie? She was the furthest thing from a cosmic threat in existence! Now, however, that heaven had recognised Charlie’s efforts at redemption for the genuine endeavour they were, the scrutiny must surely be off. No one would notice him stepping out for a day or two—
Box slid his arm around Lucifer. “What do you think, your Majesty?” he said, voice low and with an electronic hum. “Did I choose well?”
Lucifer beamed and patted his cheek. “You certainly did!”
Across the table, the red guy bared his teeth. “Taking credit for the restaurant’s success? I shouldn’t be surprised, not when your entire career has been built on the efforts of other people—”
Did he never tire of sniping at Box? Lucifer reached out a hand beneath the table, resting it on the bellhop’s knee. It worked: bellhop’s eyes widened and his smile flickered with a burst of static.
Lucifer batted his eyes at him. “Have you tried the tuna? It’s really good.”
That set the tone for the rest of the evening. Any time red guy got too vicious, Lucifer snuggled up to Box. When Box got too obnoxious or boring, Lucifer would take the bellhop’s hand. Deliberately applying his attention, Lucifer persuaded them to accompany him first to a bar, then to karaoke.
Alas, all good things must come to an end, and while Lucifer was reluctant to describe this as good—‘not intolerable’ was about as far as he was willing to go—eventually even the karaoke joint closed.
“Where to now, chums?” red guy wondered. His voice had lost its sharp edge and he was somewhat unsteady as he wheeled down the street beside Lucifer.
“Dunno about you,” Box replied immediately, “but me and his majesty have some fine-tuning to do.” He dropped the hand around Lucifer’s shoulders to his waist.
Lucifer hummed. He might have been offended at the directness or the assumption, but not after the amount of sake he’d consumed—or the completely ridiculous over-sized sundae Box had ordered him at the karaoke joint. No, he was content enough that he was willing to indulge his companions—at least to an extent.
He pulled a part of his mind out of the pleasantly buzzed state of the rest of him, and looked with new clarity at the options before him. The palace was the best bet, especially if he created a fresh room—and with neither of these two having visited the palace before, they’d be none the wiser. “How about we take this somewhere a little more…cozy?”
“I’m down for that—woah!” Box staggered back, just avoiding walking into the door Lucifer manifested. “What the—”
“It’s a door,” the red guy said politely—and even that was pointed. “You open it, like so.” He bowed. “After you.”
Lucifer had created the palace back in the Middle Ages, when he’d been in his gothic-era—the same era responsible for screaming rain and gargoyles. The room that he’d manifested had the high ceilings and sharp angles of the rest of the palace, but the door was purely ornamental (he did not put it past the bellhop to snoop through the palace—or curious Goetia to investigate this new addition to the palace). There was a sitting area, with a sofa and loveseat arranged around a coffee table, a cocktail cabinet created out of a refurbished iron maiden, and, on a slightly raised platform, a generously sized four poster bed.
There was a pause as Box and the bellhop digested their surroundings.
Box swivelled his head, but the door they’d walked through had already vanished. “Uh... This doesn’t look like the hotel.”
“The palace.” Lucifer set his shopping bag down on the coffee table and wriggled out of his over-sized duck hoodie. He was feeling pleasantly warm, thanks to the sake. “I figured it was better not to risk another interruption.”
The bellhop was looking at the bed, his teeth bared. “Your majesty has plans for the rest of the evening?”
What was that tone? Lucifer squinted at him. He couldn’t be angry, could he? He’d been the one to suggest the seduction?
Ugh. He could not even begin to understand the red guy. Lucifer flopped onto the sofa. “I don’t know that I’d call them plans per se… But I figured we could see where things go from here. You know. Play it by ear.”
Box immediately planted himself on the sofa beside him. “Say, any chance of some more of that Wrath bourbon?”
Lucifer smirked, waving towards the cocktail cabinet. “Help yourself.” He leaned backwards on the sofa, angling to catch the bellhop’s eyes. “Hey—” Uh. “Al.” The bellhop quirked an eyebrow—success! “How about some music?”
The bellhop sneered. “Oh? Is that all I am to you—the entertainment?”
Lucifer snorted, manifesting a record player. “Well, if you’d prefer I chose the music—”
“Don’t you dare.” The bellhop immediately dug into the record selection. Eventually, he found a disc that seemed to please him. “This wouldn’t be my first choice, but it will do.”
The music was mellow, perfectly suited to the late night/early morning haze. Lucifer hummed, patting the sofa. “A good choice.”
Alastor ignored Lucifer’s gesture and took the spot on the sofa Box had occupied. “That is quite the eclectic collection you have there. Bach rubbing shoulders with The Grateful Dead, jazz legends and Carmen?”
Lucifer shrugged. “I like what I like.”
“But yodelling?”
“No one’s forcing you to listen to it.” Lucifer settled against the bellhop, resting his weight comfortably against him.
The bellhop tensed and then relaxed, settling his arm around Lucifer’s shoulders. “I’d like to look at your collection properly some day.”
Box returned with two drinks. He paused as he sized up the bellhop’s location. “What’s stopping you from doing it now? I can amuse his Majesty just fine.” Despite his words, he gave the first glass—without ice—to the bellhop handing the second—on the rocks—to Lucifer.
He retrieved a third glass from the cabinet, bumping his glass against Lucifer’s. “Cheers.” He immediately choked on his drink. “Wow—this stuff kicks even harder when you have a throat.”
The bellhop snickered. “Or maybe you’re just that much of a lightweight.” The bite in his words was immediately undercut as he too coughed.
“If it doesn’t burn, it ain’t wrath.” Lucifer took a sip then placed his glass on the coffee table. He was comfortably buzzed, the critical voice that occupied his mind (the one that sounded uncomfortably like Sera) silent. He was ready to do something stupid. “So…” He placed a hand on Box’s bicep. “Did you regenerate this or…?”
Box preened. “Voxtech custom order. Should have been ready weeks ago, but we were waiting for some custom parts from Sloth, and, well, you know what their mail is like.”
“So this is by way of an upgrade?” Interesting. If only Lucifer had a better idea of what Box had been like before for actual comparison…
The bellhop snorted. “Not much of an upgrade, is it? I can’t see any difference—unless it is how easily you get winded chasing after our wayward monarch.”
Box rolled his eyes. “Most of the difference is internal. I’ve reconfigured my central nervous system for more efficiency, and less energy consumption, while increasing overall durability and performance.” He leered. “Would you like me to give you a demonstration?”
Finally! Lucifer snagged Box by his collar, pulling him down. “I was hoping you would.”
Box’s body made it a bit harder to kiss him while staying pressed against the bellhop—harder, but not impossible. Also it was nice, having his shoulders to hold on to as his tongue tangled with Box’s, the sinner’s static tickle pulsing through him. Lucifer hummed happily, luxuriating in the electrical pop and crackle. Why hadn’t they just done this from the start?
“Wow.” Box broke the kiss with a breathless laugh, sagging back against the sofa. “That’s even better with nerve endings and shit.”
“What was it like—” Lucifer paused, suddenly registering that a large part of the static he felt emanated from behind him. He twisted to see that the bellhop was smiling wide and fixed, antlers extended, and his shadow looming above them all.
Jealous? Lucifer reached for him. “I hadn’t forgotten—mmph!”
The bellhop’s eyes resembled nothing so much as radio dials, turned as high as they could go, while green sparks shot through the air around him. He took Lucifer by his shoulders, holding him still as he pressed their mouths together.
It was not exactly comfortable—Lucifer was not one hundred percent sure that the bellhop was not trying to consume him—but he got points for enthusiasm. And the bellhop was very, very keen that Lucifer not go anywhere any time soon.
So many people treated him with such exaggerated care that there was an appeal in this, the sharp edges of teeth, the tight grip of clawed hands, the pursuit of something Lucifer himself was only incidental too… He should not have liked it as much as he did. “Al—”
Box whimpered, his hands skating over Lucifer’s sides as he pressed against his other side. “You’ve had your fun. My turn, Al.”
Like toddlers. Lucifer pulled back with a gasp. “Do we need to set a timer?”
No response. Box was already tangled in the bellhop, the pair attacking each other’s mouths as though they’d discovered a need more urgent than breathing.
Maybe they had. There was something between them, something that kept them coming back to each other despite the constant sniping and the clear pain they caused each other. They were toxic, bad for each other—look even now, Alastor had drawn blood—but the lows served only to make the highs devastatingly sweet—
That rapture never led to anything good. Lucifer’s stomach twisted, and he shut his eyes. If he didn’t see it, it couldn’t hurt him—
A sudden revelation hit—why was it he only ever saw it in retrospect? It wasn’t hurt at their silence that had kept him away. It was the knowledge that this had already gone too deep—
Lucifer sucked in a sharp breath. He’d seriously fucked up.
“Hmm?” The bellhop pulled back to look at him. “Everything all right down there?”
Funnily enough the red guy looked more drunk now than he had after the sake. “Oh, fuck you.”
Alastor’s smile grew even wider, but before he could make a smart-arse comment, Box gave a breathless wheeze. “Holy shit. If I didn’t need to breathe, I could do that all day.”
Now that was an interesting thought! Had Box needed to breathe when he was simply a screen, or was the need produced by his organic body? What portion of his body was organic?
Box cleared his throat. “Something on your mind, your Majesty?”
Static crackled. “If he is thinking of ducks, so help me—”
Lucifer ignored that clearly uncalled for remark, and trailed one claw down Box’s chest. “You remember the time you hosted the therapy session at your place? Your…tower?”
“Do I!” The blue tongue made a reappearance, swiping over Box’s screen.
“The question is, how much do you remember?“
With his free hand, Lucifer gave Alastor’s thigh a warning squeeze. “You said we owed you an orgasm. I think it’s only fair we deliver—” There was a crackled, followed by a ‘pop.’ The screen went black. “Uh.” Lucifer blinked. “Are you all right?”
“Whack him on the side of his screen,” Alastor instructed. “That sometimes fixes it.”
Lucifer thumped the television on the side but, aside from a momentary burst of a black and white image, nothing happened. “Does he have a reset button?”
“Decapitation seems to be quite effective.”
Lucifer elbowed him. “Now you’re just being mean.”
“Only now?”
The bellhop delighted in provoking, didn’t he? “Let’s at least get him lying down.” Not that he minded being sandwiched between Box and the bellhop—quite enjoyed it, actually, and would not object to this happening again, but he had plans for Box.
The bellhop did not seem at all inclined to be at all helpful, but somehow Lucifer managed to get Box propped against the side of the sofa. “You’re sure he doesn’t have a power button?”
“If he did, that button would be taped down.” The bellhop had returned to his whiskey—as if he only cared to kiss Lucifer when Box was present. Rude. Lucifer pursed his lips. He was going to make the bellhop rethink that choice—
“I’m awake!” Box suddenly jerked upright. “What’d I miss?”
“Everything!” The bellhop smirked. “Fun’s over, time to go home—”
“Nothing.” Lucifer gave Alastor a pointed look, then placed a hand on Box’s thigh. “As I was saying—”
“Did you seriously shut down?” Alastor cackled. “How pathetic!”
“Like I said, I still got a few kinks to work out. Val downloaded the wrong schematics and—”
Lucifer cleared his throat. “You’re all right? Really, all right?” He waited until Box nodded.
“Systems one hundred percent operational. You just overloaded my circuits. I wasn’t expecting you to just—” He coughed. “Out and say it.”
After what Box had said in the cafeteria? Lucifer stared but there was no awareness of the irony on Box’s face. “Well, that’s too bad, because I was going to ask if I could suck you off.”
Box’s screen flickered, but he did not lose consciousness this time. “Yes. Yes!”
“Are your circuits up to the challenge?” drawled Alastor—he was enjoying this far too much. “Wouldn’t want you to overheat and permanently damage your hard drive.”
“Fuck you, Al! You’ve got no idea of how long I’ve been wanting—”
This argument seemed like it could go on a while, so Lucifer decided to cut to the chase, sliding his hand over the bulge in Box’s shorts. “Can I undress you—”
The sound of tearing fabric was a surprise, but a flattering one, as both halves of the eye-watering shirt hit the floor. Box struggled to get his t-shirt over his flatscreen.
Lucifer chuckled, feeling a rush of power. “Someone’s eager.”
“Desperately so.” At least the bell boy sounded more amused than disparaging, though Lucifer knew better than to think that would last.
“You’ve got no idea what torture it was to be here with you, and not be able to do anything about it.” Box continued to struggle with his t-shirt. “It was agony. But the best agony—suffering but still wanting more—”
It wasn’t as if the t-shirt was in Lucifer’s way. He undid Box’s belt, sliding the shorts down, and freeing his erection. “There.”
Box’s cock was the same grey as the rest of his skin, threaded with blue veins. Lucifer took it gently in hand, admiring the way it fit so neatly in his grasp.
Box’s body shuddered as his breath caught. “I—uh—was planning to upgrade that too, but uh—that was in the schematics Val didn’t download—”
What on earth was he going on about? His cock? “Looks fine to me.” And it looked as though it would taste even better. Lucifer dragged the forked edge of his tongue along Box’s cock.
“HOLY SHIT FUCK.” Box’s hips rocked, and he gripped the edge of the sofa. “Lucifer—”
Lucifer brought his head up to grin at him, flicking his tongue at him. “You like that?”
In response, Box pushed his head back down with a wordless whimper.
Still got it. Lucifer wrapped his tongue around Box’s cock, drawing it into his mouth. It had been far, far too long since he’d driven anyone over the edge like this—
A low chuckle preceded the hand on his back. “You’ve kept that up your sleeve.” Alastor sounded approving. “And that’s not the last of your tricks, is it?”
Mouth full, Lucifer could only hum in agreement—and Box moaned. “Fuck. I’m already so hard—”
And you’ll be harder yet. Lucifer swirled his tongue up and down Box’s length, alternating intensity.
Box’s hips jerked seemingly of their own accord, his entire body humming. Electricity crackled between his antennas. “Oh fuck. I can’t—please. Don’t stop—”
Box’s cock slipped from his mouth. Lucifer took it firmly by the base, wrapping his mouth around it once more. He wriggled backwards, planting himself on Alastor’s lap in an endeavour to get a more secure angle—
“Please.” Box’s hands were locked on his shoulders. “God, please—”
Lucifer hummed warningly. No god but a seraphim—
A hiss behind him, and Alastor’s hands gripped his rear. “Keep wriggling like that, and I will not be responsible for the consequences.”
What did he— A warm firmness pressed against his own length. Lucifer swallowed. Had he thought Alastor was distracted? That firmness proved otherwise.
He removed Box’s cock from his mouth to reply. “The fun kind of consequences or the regret kind of consequences?”
Box made a wordless, desperate sound and bucked up at him.
Alastor chuckled. “You’ve chosen to fuck around and find out then?”
“Oh my fucking god, please! I’m dying here—”
Lucifer showed his teeth. “Always.”
He was expecting Alastor to kiss him—not for the sinner to gently cup his cheek, then firmly direct him back onto Box’s cock. “I fear that if we do not indulge Vox, his circuits may overload.”
“Oh—fuck you and your fucking superiority complex—” Box’s breathlessness completely undermined his words. He tasted of copper, storm and urgency.
Not long now. Box’s need was intoxicating. Lucifer’s shorts felt constricting. With one hand, he attempted to pull them down.
“Allow me.” Alastor freed him from his pants before doing the same for himself. He ran his palms over the bare skin of Lucifer’s butt before taking firm hold of his hips, holding him still as Alastor rocked against him.
The friction was pretty near perfect. Lucifer moaned around Box, before gently easing off. He wanted to enjoy the feeling of another length against his, even as he sucked Box off. From starvation to surfeited, there was no in-between…
“Please—” Box panted roughly. “Al, Lucifer, please.” His voice cracked.
That seemed to have an effect on Alastor. He surged forward, driving Box deeper into Lucifer’s mouth, even as he grabbed the other sinner by his flatscreen, and—as far as Lucifer could judge—bit his antenna.
Box moaned, jerked furiously and came.
Lucifer surfaced, licking his lips. “Did we pay our debt?”
Alastor snickered. “You’ll be waiting some time for a reply, I fear.” He nodded to Box.
The sinner had not lost his screen this time, but instead of displaying the sinner’s expression, the display was black except for a small pop up.
“Error: Unsupported format. Please ensure that you are running the latest version of Vox.exe…” Lucifer trailed off. “What the fuck?”
An arm wrapped around his chest, while a hand travelled between his legs. Alastor pressed his mouth to Lucifer’s neck. “I suggest that we don’t wait for him to reboot.” His teeth grazed Lucifer’s skin.
Lucifer shuddered. He was embarrassingly hard and there was no way that Alastor had failed to notice. “What—” He was just as breathless as Box. Lucifer sucked in a deep breath, desperately aiming at ‘unbothered’ and falling short by several rings. “What do you have in mind?”
“That’s for me to know,” Alastor said with a sweetness that would have fooled absolutely nobody. “And you to find out.”
He dragged his tongue down Lucifer’s neck, softer and smoother than Lucifer had expected—and shouldn’t he have known? Why was it so hard to keep anything in his head? His hand continued its explorations, skimming across Lucifer’s thighs, drawing a gasp as it fondled his balls, but infuriatingly bypassing his cock altogether.
Lucifer whined, trying to angle his hips so that Alastor’s hands went where he so wanted them. “Bellhop—”
A claw dug painfully into his flesh. “Not my name.”
Lucifer hissed, even as need pulsed in his veins. “I’m not your toy.”
The bellhop laughed. “Yet you’re playing so nicely into my hands.” His fingers stroked over Lucifer’s rear, cupping his cheeks, before one made its way up, thumb rubbing the bump of skin where Lucifer’s tail emerged.
Lucifer gasped. The base of his tail was particularly sensitive, and the pressure of Alastor’s fingers against it was delicious. He pushed back, angling for more.
“There’s a good doll.” He did not need to look at the bellhop to know he was smiling. His free hand stroked Lucifer’s tail, looping it around his arm. “Now, are we going to play nice?”
“Don’t fucking patronise me, you—” Lucifer froze. His tail—oh fuck. His tail was out. He made to scramble off the sofa, one hand stretched to his head. Were his horns also on full display?
“Hmm—no.” The hand tangled in Lucifer’s tail suddenly jerked back. Lucifer was pulled up painfully short, gasping as he lost his balance and sprawled on the sofa.
The bellhop pulled Lucifer’s tail tight as a whip. His other hand returned to caressing the tail base. “You know, I’ve been wondering about your majesty’s extra appendages.” A sudden twist. Lucifer whimpered. “Wondering to what extent they are for display, to what extent they are part of you.”
Lucifer grit his teeth. The bellboy wanted a reaction. He was not going to give him one…
Too late, he realised he was trembling.
Alastor was back to stroking the base of Lucifer’s tail, his touch deceptively gentle. “It appears they are not just for show!”
“Let go of my tail, and I’ll show you just how real they can be.” Lucifer did his best to sound threatening, but was only too aware of how breathless he sounded. He could not make fun of Box’s desperation after this.
“Is the bull threatening his horns?”
Horns? He patted his head but thankfully, the bellhop was just teasing. “I’m warning you. Let go—”
Alastor ran the pad of his thumb over the spikes that protruded from the tail.
Lucifer hummed. He caught himself a moment later, but it was too late—the bellboy didn’t miss a thing.
Alastor’s grin was reflected in Box’s screen. “You’re sure you want me to let go?”
“Yes.” Wait. “No.” What was the option that would get that delicious pressure back where he wanted it? “You’re doing this on purpose!”
“What, seducing you?” Alastor’s grin was pure unrepentance. “I certainly am!”
What was wrong with him that he was not simply amused, but fond? Lucifer licked his lips. Time to take back control.
He flicked his tail, letting the heart-shaped tip brush the bellhop’s cheek, even as he twisted, deliberately catching Alastor’s eye. “Why should you do all the work? Let me—” He pushed back, rubbing against Alastor’s cock, “—help.”
Alastor cocked an eyebrow. “Oh? And how do you propose doing that?”
Lucifer was able to wriggle around so that he was facing the bellhop. He licked his lips, putting his tongue on full display. “I sucked Box off. Only fair you get a turn too.”
He’d been expecting the bellhop to leap at the chance. Lucifer was very, very good with his mouth—and he’d just seen the proof of that. Instead, there was a crackle of static and the bellhop’s eyes flickered into dials momentarily. “You’d like that wouldn’t you.”
“You’d like it too.” Why was he always so difficult? Unless—
A memory suddenly surfaced.
’Would you please let me sit on your cock?’ Anger pulsed through him, like the need burning him from the inside out, but even through his rage he’d seen the startled expression on Alastor’s face, that moment of panic before that maddening smile was back in place…
But before he’d taken him, Box had interrupted. He didn’t remember much of the argument that had followed, incensed by the fact that the red guy would rather trade insults with Box than orgasms with him, but one thing Box had said stood out because of how viciously red guy had reacted to it. What was it? ’Because you are lacking experience! Now if you’d just let me hit it all those years ago—‘
Lucifer sucked in a breath. He’d written that off at the time as more of the pair’s infernal sniping (why would they stop during sex?), more worried about just what Charlie had heard before Vagronkia had carried her from the room and how badly this would affect his daughter’s opinion of him, but could the television screen be right, and the bellhop actually be new to this?
Again, that should not have been the turn on that it was. Lucifer put his hand on Alastor’s arm. “You can tell me if it’s too much.”
Again the static crackle and the dials, Alastor’s teeth extending beyond his mouth. “Don’t patronise me, my doll.” He gave Lucifer’s tail a sharp tug to remind him that he was in charge.
Lucifer’s gasp was half pained, half need. Fuck. Lilith delighted in toying with his tail, working him up to such an extent that she could make him come just by breathing on him. If the bellhop worked that out, he would never be able to show his face in the hotel again—think!
A flash of inspiration hit. The bellhop wanted to be in charge? “How about this?” He looped his tail around his neck, the bellhop releasing it as he realised what Lucifer was doing. He presented the end to Alastor. “My mouth on you—but you’re in charge.”
That burst of static was loud enough that Lucifer felt it. The bellhop stared at him, clearly wondering where the catch was.
Lucifer licked his lips, squirming a little on Box’s lap. He allowed a whimper to escape him.
Alastor’s eyes narrowed—too much?—but he tugged Lucifer’s tail, making him gasp as his tail tightened around him. “Fine. But remember, I’m in charge.”
Lucifer hummed, eagerly scooting back to get a good position to go to work on the bellhop’s cock. It was a slightly darker shade of brown than the rest of him, a few drops of precome already dribbling from the tip. Lucifer swiped those up with his tongue.
The bellhop shuddered, the hand not clamped around Lucifer’s tail coming to rest on his head. “Wouldn’t this be easier on your knees?”
“A king doesn’t kneel.” Lucifer, intent on lathing the sides of Alastor’s cock with his tongue, just in case he’d missed anything, felt the hum of static—fuck, had he given the bellhop ideas? Before the sinner could get any thoughts above his station, Lucifer took him into his mouth completely.
“Luci—FER!” Static crackled, the air around them dancing like just before a storm. Interesting—he’d thought that was all Box, but it seemed that the radio demon’s powers had a similar effect. He sucked hard, fastening his lips around Alastor’s base—
Only for his tail to be pulled sharp around his neck. “Not so fast.” The bell hop’s voice had a needy rasp. “I’m in charge.” Using the hand on Lucifer’s head to keep him still, the bellhop began to thrust into Lucifer’s mouth.
Lucifer moaned. A king did not put up with such treatment—but fuck, if there wasn’t something about being used this way that went straight to his dick. He whimpered, giving a breathless little gasp—probably better if the bellhop thought he needed to breathe—and was rewarded with a renewed attack on his mouth.
“Holy shit.” A pair of clawed hands settled on Lucifer’s hips, steadying him. “This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Box had rebooted! Lucifer made to pull away to greet him, but Alastor tugged, and his tail pulled tight.
“Nice of you to finally j-join us.” That slight wobble was an admission of need. Lucifer redoubled his efforts, applying his tongue lavishly. “You’ve missed a lot—”
The static crackle was extremely satisfying, as was the way that Alastor completely gave up on words, digging his fingers into Lucifer’s hair and thrusting into his mouth with a vicious snarl. Was he fighting Lucifer—or himself? Either way, the result was the same—the heat of Alastor’s release in his throat, the bellhop collapsing bonelessly onto him.
“Fucking hell.” Box was a lot more helpful than the bellhop had ever been, taking hold of his shoulders, allowing Lucifer to scoot out from underneath. “When you let go, you really—”
“Another word,” the bellhop threatened, his voice for once free of the tinny, radio quality, “And I shall disembowel you right here all over his majesty’s nice sofa.”
Displaying a complete lack of concern for his life and Lucifer’s upholstery, Box simply snickered, placing a gentle hand on his head, stroking his hair. “Of course you will.”
Why would that unexpected sweetness make his chest twinge? For a moment, Lucifer had a sudden urge to port them away, back to their separate homes—
Box’s eye fell on him and he leered. “You’re still unsatisfied, your majesty. Want me to do something about that?” He waggled his eyebrows.
That’s right: Lucifer had a lesson to teach. “Oh, you will.” He patted Box’s cheek—or what was currently his cheek. With the changing display, it could have been a mouth four seconds ago. “But first, let’s get Alastor comfortable.”
Alastor had recovered enough to push Box’s hands aside and settle himself in a sitting position on the sofa. “It seems your majesty has something in mind?”
“I do.” A firm push to the middle of Box’s chest, and he was only too eager to seat himself next to Alastor. Lucifer trailed a claw down Box’s chest, amused by the way his body arched into his touch. “May I—”
“Yes.”
Alastor crowed. “You don’t even know what you’re agreeing to! Honestly, Vox, you’ve learned nothing—”
“Shut up, you vintage arsehole! If you ruin this—”
Taking advantage of Box’s agreement and his companions’ distraction, Lucifer applied his tongue to the bare skin of Box’s abdomen. The result was a very satisfying gasp, followed by a moan.
“So little self-control! Honestly—”
The commentary did not seem to have an ill effect on Box’s arousal. Lucifer gave his cock a token once-over, before approaching his real target. He let his fingers rest over Box’s entrance. “Can I?” See, Alastor? This was how a gentleman fucked.
Box hesitated a moment, eyes sliding from Alastor to Lucifer, and then he shuddered. “Fuck me.”
Alastor cackled. “I believe that is the point.”
Box growled, squeezing Alastor’s arm before meeting Lucifer’s eyes. That distractingly blue tongue swiped the edge of his screen. “Yes...”
Lucifer grinned. “Good boy.”
From the way Box’s eyes widened, he might have let more of his teeth show than he usually did. Oh well. Lucifer nuzzled his stomach, planting a gentle kiss to it, even as he manifested a bottle of lube. “I hope you are taking notes, bellhop.”
“Oh, I’m watching very closely—believe me.” That statement was all teeth.
Box shuddered. “Shit—” His body put up only a token resistance as Lucifer pressed one finger inside. “Holy fuck—”
“Exactly.” Pleased, Lucifer planted another kiss on his stomach before settling between his legs. “Al, if you could take his legs, give me better access?”
He did not need to be asked twice. “Like this?” Alastor hooked his arms around Box’s legs, holding them apart.
He should have known that Alastor would have no issues restraining Box. “Exactly.” Lucifer’s fingers continued to probe. He watched Box’s face carefully as he added a second finger, than a third.
“Shit. Come on, Lu, I’m ready.” Box twisted in Alastor’s grasp, but he seemed to be trying to rut against Lucifer’s fingers, not escape them. “Please.” His cock seemed to indicate that this was no idle boast: it was just as swollen as it had been when they’d started their games.
“Are you?” Lucifer’s tone was deceptively sweet, even as he removed his fingers entirely. He took a moment to squeeze more lube into one hand, applying it to his cock, making sure that Box saw exactly what he was doing. “You’re sure?”
Box’s seemed to have a lot of trouble refocusing his attention of Lucifer’s words. “I—please. Please, Lu—”
Alastor tightened his grip on Box’s legs. “Desperation is highly unbecoming.”
Lucifer gave him a warning glare—the bellhop was not going to ruin the mood now—but if anything, his words only served to make Box squirm even more vigorously.
“Please, Lu. Whatever you want, just don’t leave me like this...” His swollen cock swayed, neglected but proud…
Not for long. Lucifer hummed happily, snapping his tail behind him. He took Box from Alastor, lining up his entrance carefully. “Comfortable?”
Box’s screen flickered. “Uh—”
“Good.” Lucifer pressed in.
Despite his care, Box was tight—deliciously so. He whimpered, arching up into Lucifer, collapsing back against Alastor.
Was this the first time his new body had been used in this way? What difference—if any—did that make? Lucifer hummed, looking down at the sinner spread before him. He would ask later. For now…
“So, Box,” he said with deceptive politeness. “How does it feel knowing the King of Hell is balls deep in you?”
The screen abruptly shifted back into focus. Box’s expression registered alarm, even as Alastor’s head jerked up and the pair of them went very, very still.
Lucifer’s mouth curved, his tail flicking. “That’s what I thought.”
Gentleness over, Lucifer thrust into Box—balls deep indeed—delighting in the sinner’s gasp. The moan that followed was entirely too intoxicating, as was Alastor’s sharp hiss. More than that, in the thrill of letting go, Lucifer chased his own pleasure—and there was nothing sweeter than when self-denial was finally rewarded. Lucifer bit down on Box’s bicep—he would have preferred his neck, but could not quite reach—and felt the sinner buck beneath him, before Lucifer finally reached his climax.
For once, Box and Alastor did not have anything to say.
Lucifer lay on Box’s chest, listening to the man’s breathing. Something hot and sticky ran down his chest—the sinner had come? Again, Alastor should take notes.
Alastor? Lucifer raised his head slightly. He was still there, curled around Box, green sparks popping in the air around him. His eyes were half-lidded and his breathing was hard.
Don’t tell me he came too?
Amused—and feeling rightfully superior—Lucifer summoned his power. A second later the three of them poofed onto the bed, clean and now clad in fresh sets of pyjamas: the bellboy’s in red pinstripes, Box in blue sharks, and Lucifer in his preferred over-sized t-shirt and shorts.
Lucifer slipped underneath the blankets and snuggled up to Box. “Night-night.”
Alastor jerked into an upright sitting position. “Did you use your magic to teleport us, what—three metres?”
Lucifer pouted. “You would have made this way more difficult that it needed to be.” He gave Box a tug, hoping he would at least take the hint.
Box didn’t move. “Uh. Before—so that was, um, incredible, and I didn’t even think I could come that hard, but uh—what you said before that…”
“I heard you in the cafe.” Was no one going to cuddle him? Lucifer sat up, pulling one of the pillows into his lap. Weird to think that he could miss Box as a tablet, but he’d been so portable…
Box and Alastor exchanged a look. “So if you heard that,” Alastor started carefully…
“I heard the rest of the wager too.” Lucifer smirked at them. “Which I won, by the way—I brought both of you home.”
“Fuck me.” Box dragged a hand down his face.
“I just did,” Lucifer reminded him. “Or are you already keen for a repeat?”
Alastor began to laugh—his unhinged laugh rather than his amused one.
Box shot him a glare and finally—finally!—climbed beneath the covers. “I, uh. Wouldn’t he opposed,” he admitted quietly. “But not right now.”
Lucifer purred, abandoning the pillow in favour of snuggling up to Box. As much he liked sex, he almost liked this bit better, the companionship, basking in the glow of completion, while cuddled up with another…
He’d hoped but not expected that Alastor would join them, so it was a nice surprise when the bed dipped, and a throat cleared on Box’s other side. “Is he—actually sleeping?”
“Seems to be.” Box’s fingers brushed his hair and it was so nice that Lucifer didn’t bother correcting him.
“What the hell just happened?”
“You tell me! I wasn’t there for all of it.”
“Surely even your inferior circuits must have some clue?”
Lucifer gave a warning growl. “Sleep now.”
All went quiet.
Lucifer hummed happily, letting himself drift, and trying very hard not to think about how much he liked this.