Eternal Rot

Ambrosia

Sitting was terribly uncomfortable, body full of a dull ache that simply refused to go away. He still spoke with utmost confidence, but the burning in his lower stomach made him keep thinking back to the previous night, and how rough his master had been. His fingers kept going up to trace his bite mark, the bandages doing little to cushion his own harsh prodding. If the devil kept playing with him like that, then surely he would become undone. 

His co-host seemed to have noticed the gleam in his eye, so he tried to sit still, and tried to look professional, but he failed pretty quickly once he scooted himself forward, as the friction of the chair made him bite his lip hard, splitting it in between talking points. Vince’s eyes widened, and he quickly made an excuse to cut to music, and once their voices were turned off, he rolled himself over to the man, looking him up and down, “Fuck, you’re a mess today, what’s been eating you?”

“Lu has.” Alastor chuckled under his breath, smile crooked, “He certainly wanted to take a few chunks outta me after our little squabble. I’ve been meaning to thank you for that.”

“Shit- I mean…” Vince gently began to wipe the man’s lip with his handkerchief, becoming a bit of a mess himself over his co-worker’s wellbeing, “I didn’t peg him as someone who would hurt you. I am going to bump him off if I see him again.”

“Mmm…” Al purred at the possibility of them meeting again, having to press his legs together thanks to the possibilities, “I happen to enjoy a little bit of roughing up. It makes things have a sort of agency.”

Vince stopped his fussing, his eyes going wide as he looked into his co-host’s features, scanning for sarcasm when none had been present. After a moment, gears in his mind turning, he smiled wide, gaze sparking with intrigue, “Woah- I didn’t… You’re into that sort of stuff? Man, I am one fucking lucky bitch.”

“You are certainly a bitch.” Al agreed playfully, sitting back so that their faces weren’t too close, “I can only imagine how tortured my… friend… is at home. Probably worried you’ve got me under the desk doing some not so safe for work sort of things… Although that would be my fault, as I did start that line of thought.”

Vincent sat up entirely, pressing the bloodied cloth to his lips as he licked the fabric boldly. The display made Al’s stomach flip, as he had to avert his eyes in order not to accidentally give too much away about his sudden interest. He would not play his cards all at once. He craved the chaos between the two other men, as it made an ember he had never ignited blaze with renewed passion. He would have his apple and eat it too, even if it was to the detriment of the fucking devil himself, or the death of his favorite talk show host. 

How he enjoyed stirring the pot, especially after the meal it provided the night before. 

The weather had turned, the beginnings of fall becoming evident around Al’s walk home. Something about the season always brought him great peace, even with the latest events taking most of his attention. He breathed in the scent of fallen leaves, the cold air making a mess of his hair as he strode home. He felt like a much younger man in this type of weather, as his muscle aches did release a little.

He knew he wasn’t alone, the familiarity of Lucifer’s gaze made him only walk slower, as to make him frustrated with the wait. He loved toying with his master, loved tilting the deal in his favor even more. Little did he know that his soul would be staring right at the devil, watching him with big eyes, and an even bigger grin. Two faced, one calmly enjoying autumn, the other enjoying the meal of Lucifer’s anguish. 

Al finally made it home, and smiling over at Nif, who was raking some of the fallen leaves already, he stopped walking, postponing entering his abode, “Hello, dear, is your husband not home again?”