𝐇𝐇 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 - Hazbin Hotel

Pt 10

DISCLAIMER: This chapter begins smackdab in the middle of some light smut. This chapter also lightly touches on trauma and physical abuse themes. Just a heads up!

Something as pretty as this shouldn't exist in Hell.

In a moment such as this - the king, eyes lowered in submission, on his knees, not a stitch of clothing shielding him - it made Alastor consider who was truly in control of the scene. He liked to think that he was, as the dominant partner, but he wasn't wholly convinced. Lucifer held so much power over him like this; it drew Alastor in, like a moth to a flame. Perhaps Alastor just wasn't used to this yet. Maybe, someday, Lucifer's beauty wouldn't have him in such a chokehold.

Wishful thinking.

He stepped behind Lucifer, and he watched the little king fight the urge to follow him with his eyes. His hands were resting on his thighs, which were splayed outward, keeping him deliciously exposed. His head was bowed, but Alastor watched him steal glances at him when he thought the demon wasn't looking. But Alastor was always looking. The idea that he might miss something, anything , that Lucifer might do when he wasn't watching was too much to bear. He was damn near obsessed. He wanted to be a part of every moment, the subject of the man's every thought, and he needed to be the only one who ever saw the king as vulnerable as he was in this very moment.

He wrapped his hand around Lucifer's throat, applying enough pressure to get his attention, but not to choke him. He slid his hand up, settling underneath his chin and jaw, and lifted his head so that he met the demon's eyes. The smaller man's body tensed at the sudden contact before settling again as he melted into Alastor's touch. The Radio Demon couldn't help but admire the way Lucifer carried himself, every movement deliberate and controlled, yet tinged with a subtle sense of anticipation. But it was not just Lucifer's physical beauty that captivated Alastor—it was the depth of emotion reflected in his eyes, the vulnerability laid bare for him to see.

Lucifer trusted him.

Lucifer, whom he had only become close to in the last two months, trusted him implicitly.

He felt a darkness creep into his mind, before batting it away immediately. This was not the time for that.

"Luci," Alastor said, his voice low, "You've been a pest all morning. What am I going to do with you?"

There was a mischievous gleam in the king's eyes. "Not a goddamn thing, from the looks of it."

The air turned cold. Lucifer shivered, his eyes never leaving Alastor's. The latter man leaned down, tutting at him, before answering with, "I will make you regret that, little one."

The hand at his throat disappeared, and suddenly Lucifer was being pulled up from the ground by his hair. He gasped, reaching up to grab at Alastor's offending hand. Before he had a chance to put up much of a fight, he was being flipped around and thrown onto the bed, Alastor quickly crawling on top of him to keep him in place. Lucifer tried to push him off, enjoying the struggle, loving how Alastor could anticipate every move and keep him in place.

His two small wrists were suddenly pinned up above his head by just one of Alastor's. Lucifer's eyes grew wide and he ceased his squirming.

Alastor smirked at him. "You love being small, don't you?"

The angel flushed, a golden hue painting his cheeks. "It has its benefits."

Alastor used his free hand to rub the pad of his thumb over Lucifer's lips. A thought struck him.

"Lucifer," he said, some of his confidence subsiding, "I...don't believe we've ever kissed."

The smaller man pinned beneath him couldn't help but laugh. This is not where he'd thought this scene was heading. "You're right, yeah, I think I'd remember it if we had!"