LOVE OR SEX || Radioapple

Chapter 16

As they watched the orgy scene in the pornography movie, the air between them thick with tension, Lucifer's eyes shifted from the screen to Alastor. The sensuality of the film seemed to spark something in Lucifer, as he leaned in closer to Alastor, his lips dangerously close to his side.

"I want to suck your dick," Lucifer whispered, his voice low, laced with a familiar seductive edge.

But for once, Alastor pulled back slightly, his hand resting on Lucifer's arm. "Not this time," he said, his tone firmer than usual. His eyes, though calm, held a seriousness that caught Lucifer off guard.

Lucifer frowned, a flash of frustration crossing his face. He stood up, breaking the fragile stillness between them. Alastor's hand shot out instinctively, catching Lucifer's wrist. "Stay," Alastor urged, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "Don't... don't go."

Lucifer smirked, but there was something different in his eyes this time. He gently pulled his hand free. "I'm just going over there," he said, his tone teasing. He pointed to a man sitting alone a few rows ahead. "I'll suck his big cock instead. Maybe he'll appreciate it more."

Alastor's heart sank a little at the words, but he didn't say anything. He could feel the usual playfulness of Lucifer's teasing, but this time it stung differently. As Lucifer started walking away, Alastor's chest tightened. He had always been good at keeping his feelings hidden, but watching Lucifer walk off like that... it hurt in a way he hadn't expected.

But Lucifer wasn't heading toward anyone else. Instead, he made his way to the concession stand, a plan already forming in his head. He asked for two sodas, glancing back at Alastor from a distance, who sat watching, still caught up in his own thoughts.

For the first time, Lucifer wasn't thinking solely about sex or games. He was thinking about Alastor. About how different things felt with him. How Alastor didn't immediately cave to his desires, and how, despite their constant power struggle, there was something genuine there. Something deeper.

As he returned to their seats with the drinks in hand, Lucifer caught the flicker of surprise on Alastor's face. He didn't say anything, just handed one of the sodas to Alastor and sat back down beside him. No jokes, no innuendo. Just a quiet gesture.

Lucifer took a sip of his soda, his gaze fixed on the screen, but his mind was far from the film. He had always prided himself on being untouchable, emotionally distant, and impossible to truly love. But something about Alastor had changed that. For the first time, Lucifer found himself contemplating his feelings—wondering if, maybe, he wasn't as incapable of love as he had always believed. 

And as the film played on, both of them sat in a rare moment of silence, each lost in thoughts they couldn't quite voice.

Alastor rushed back into the theater, but Lucifer's mind was still reeling from their evening together. He could still feel the lingering touch of Lucifer's attempt at tenderness, something strange for him. Lucifer wandered through the rain, his mind somewhere between the evening's porn film and the fleeting warmth of Alastor's presence.

His attention snapped back when he noticed the figure stepping out from the shadows near the car. Lucifer slowed, recognizing the trembling man—an old acquaintance from the mob, the same one who Angel had dealt with on Lucifer's orders. The man's face was gaunt, his eyes wide with fear, and in his shaking hand, he clutched a gun.

Lucifer's eyes flicked to the weapon and then back to the man's pale face. His lips curled into a mocking grin.

"Look who's still kicking," Lucifer sneered, the sound of his voice barely audible over the pounding rain. "What, did you come to settle a score?"