Chapter Text
With eyes closed, Lucifer Morningstar blocked out the ominous light shining through his red curtains. His sharp teeth ground together, forming a grimace, despite the permanent rosy apple of his cheeks. He allowed himself to drop back onto his bed, fury cushioning his landing. Free fall.
How dare he?
Not five minutes prior, the King of Hell had been in the lobby of his daughter’s hotel; Charlie had invited him there to ask for his help, and like a good father he’d shown up for her. Only to find that she already had all the help she could need in the form of Alastor the Radio Demon.
It was unclear how long the Radio Demon had been helping Charlie, living under her roof, contaminating her hotel with that cruel static of his. He had his own room, where he no doubt had a wardrobe of exquisite red suit jackets, black pants, and brilliant red dress-shirts—the perfect colour to hide any bloody spillages. He was an imposing figure, 7 feet to lucifer’s 5’10”, but that meant nothing. His hair was red and bobbed, while Lucifer’s blond locks were perfectly shaped. Lucifer could play just as many instruments as Alastor, maybe even more. Alastor was a mere Overlord. Lucifer was King.
And Lucifer’s cane was longer.
Tossing his top hat to the side, where it landed on the head of a large plastic duck, the Pride Demon began to unlace his knee-high boots. It was too late to be up, fuming over insignificant Sinners and their place in his daughter’s life, at his daughter’s side, poisoning her thoughts of him. If Alastor wanted Charlie to call him ‘dad’ he had until morning to enjoy it, because tomorrow he’d be having another visit from The King.
-
Come morning, Lucifer was re-lacing his boots and straightening his neck-tie in the mirror. The view of his room behind him was crowded with rubber ducks of all shapes and sizes.
Fuck, you’re pathetic.
Lucifer kicked out at a nearby duck, launching it across the room with angelic strength. He immediately felt bad for the inanimate object, but brushed the feeling off as he turned away.
He didn’t need to use the door, but Lucifer decided to materialise outside the hotel and let himself in that way rather than turn up in the lobby. Anyone could be around. Any deer-shaped, crackly-voiced, parent-usurping-
There he was. Alastor, with his rigid posture, soft red hair and ears, sharp gaze, and perfectly arched eyebrow. The Radio Demon leaned back into the couch, faking languid relaxation. He crossed one shining shoe over the other and spoke.
“Luci,” Alastor purred, voice crackling through his microphone. “What can we at Hazbin Hotel do for you, so soon after your last visit to our humble establishment?”
Lucifer grit his teeth and stopped a few feet from his rival. “It’s not your hotel,” he ground out. “It’s Charlie’s.”
“Who do you think has been bankrolling this venture, my dear? It hasn’t been Daddy dearest.”
Lucifer could feel his shoulders shoot up towards his hat, stiff with humiliation. Sure, he’d been a little MIA, but… “Well, I’m here now,” he snapped. “She doesn’t need you now she has the King.”
Slowly, Lucifer watched as Alastor uncrossed his legs and rose to his full height. His demon shadow continued to stretch above him until it loomed over them, teeth glinting with cannibalistic glee.
The King tried not to shiver under that powerful gaze.
While Lucifer was the most powerful demon in the afterlife, there was something unstable that quivered just under the surface of Alastor’s cervine skin. It crept through the room on cold radio-waves to envelope anyone with the gall to tell him ‘no.’
“Daddy!”
At the sound of Charlie’s voice, followed by her joyful face rushing towards Lucifer, Alastor’s demon form snapped back under control. The sizzle of uncontrolled power disappeared and the Radio Demon’s expression returned to one of bored pleasantries.
It was disconcerting and left chills running up Lucifer’s spine.
“Not that I’m not happy to see you,” Charlie anxiously began, long limbs enveloping her regal father in a hug, “But why are you back so soon?”
“I…” Lucifer glanced once more in Alastor’s direction.
The demon was tilting his head, fluffy hair brushing his sharp, red shoulders, as if to say ‘Yes, dear, why did you come back? You’re clearly not needed here.’
Alastor was going to drive him to distraction. Furious distraction.
Lucifer plastered a perfect grin on his pale face. “I just couldn’t help wanting to see more of what you do here! I told you, I’m in full support of the whole… venture.”
His teeth clenched at his use of Alastor’s word for the hotel. That demon was getting inside his head.
“That’s great! Thanks, Dad.” Charlie didn’t notice his white lie, thank goodness.
“What a good father you are,” Alastor crackled, quietly.
Lucifer could almost believe the Radio Demon had somehow said it only into his ears and no one else’s. Otherwise how could anyone ignore the sarcastic tone in his metallic voice?
-
Lips and teeth and golden blood. Fluffy red hair under a dark-gloved hand. Two canes discarded and allowed to roll under the couch. One slim form tangled under the longer limbs of another, breath coming fast and hard. Power crackling through the room, not just radio-waves but also angelic power humming in the air around them.
“Luci, dear?”
Exhaling softly, Lucifer pulled the other demon closer-
“Your majesty?”
Lucifer’s eyes snapped open. He wasn’t in a dark, swampy room deep in the hotel. He was on a red velvet couch, surrounded by Charlie’s friends, clutching a large sofa cushion to his body. Thankfully it covered any potential… physical embarrassment brought on by the disturbing dream.
Sitting up, the King glanced around the room. His cheeks glowed with royal humiliation. Had he said anything out loud?
“I guess you’re not sleeping well either?” Charlie suggested. “With the extermination coming way sooner than usual?”
He could have kissed his daughter for giving him an excuse for falling asleep. “That’s right,” Lucifer lied. “I’ve just been so worried. I really want your plan to succeed.”
Alastor was stood by the fireplace, all strong posture and sarcastic grace. “Of course,” he purred, “So concerned for your citizens, Sir.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lucifer snapped before he could stop himself. The Radio Demon was an expert at getting under his skin already.
“Why don’t you go have a lie down in one of the rooms?” Charlie suggested kindly. “You can join one of the activities another time.”
Lucifer found himself nodding, even though he was sure his anger would stop him from sleeping. Maybe he could have a long shower instead.
“I can show him to one of our empty rooms,” Alastor crackled.
The Pride Demon couldn’t help but think of the setting of his dream; Alastor’s own room within the hotel, his bed with bright red sheets, the fabric and their skin smeared with gold.
A cold shower, he decided, almost disgusted with himself.
“Thank you Alastor!” Charlie chirped as the deer-demon led his King away.
-
The King of Hell was already loosening his bow tie as he stepped inside the guest room. His skin prickled with unease; Alastor had been silent as he led Lucifer to the room, but for the quiet static that followed the Radio Demon everywhere. The walk itself had seemed unnecessarily long, which the fallen Angel knew was intentional. He expected Alastor to leave immediately, but the other demon stood in the doorway instead.
Lucifer tossed his bow tie to the side and it landed next to a soft, dark pink armchair. His hat he placed carefully on the seat, and his coat he draped over the back.
“I’m surprised your coat is long enough to brush the floor.” Alastor’s voice travelled through the air like unstable radio waves to settle around Lucifer’s shoulders.
“Don’t talk to me like we’re friends,” the King replied. Every carefully-enunciated word from the other demon made him tense.
“Oh I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Smug bastard.
Lucifer started on the buttons of his waistcoat. “You don’t strike me as the kind of demon to stick around for a strip show,” he pointed out.
While Alastor’s heckling kept his fury close to the surface, Lucifer was struggling to find the energy to maintain their argument. His dream had left him feeling bewildered and a little raw. The deer demon’s continued presence only confused him more. Lucifer turned back to stare down the other demon. His pale fingers quickly finished removing his bright red vest and started on the white shirt beneath.
“I suppose if that’s what you’re really after…” Lucifer began, a cruel smirk forming at the edge of his lips. If his presumption was correct, it would be this suggestion of sex that finally made the Radio demon leave him be. “I could be persuaded to oblige.” He parted the shirt at his throat as he continued.
Alastor’s red gaze flicked over Lucifer’s neck and chest, drawn briefly by the movement, before snapping back to the fallen angel’s face. His expression didn’t waver, but Lucifer could swear he’d struck a nerve.
“No thank you,” Alastor replied curtly. “I merely wanted to ensure you arrived safely.”
As though anyone other than the deer demon himself would consider harming the King of Hell. Especially in Charlie’s hotel.
“Well, you succeeded,” Lucifer snapped. Alastor’s games were grating on his every nerve. He quickly undid his duck-shaped cufflinks before all-but tearing his shirt from his body. He turned his back on the other demon, but Alastor was already fading into the shadows, the door drifting closed as he did.
-
It was the middle of the night when Lucifer woke, sweating despite the thin blanket and boxer briefs he’d chosen to sleep in. It was eerie sleeping in a bed that wasn’t his own, not to mention the quality of the sheets. There was a disconcerting dream lurking at the edge of his mind, full of shadows and static and teeth, and—for fuck sake—he’d woken up with an erection.
Groaning, Lucifer pressed his face into the pillow and inhaled. It wasn’t his intention, but the smell alone was enough to make his arousal subside. When had anyone washed the sheets here?
Instead of dressing properly, the Pride demon snapped his fingers and made a soft pair of pyjamas clothe his body. Plush ducky slippers appeared on his feet; he was unwilling to walk these halls without something to protect him from the grime. He stepped outside into creepily low lamplight.
Lucifer’s wandering took him to the bar. Usually staffed by Husk, it must have been late enough that even the alcoholics were sleeping. Helping himself, Lucifer found a bottle of cheap white wine and unscrewed the cap. He drank from the bottle, thankful no one was there to witness it.
“Lovely slippers, your majesty.”
“Alastor.”
The Radio demon haunted his dreams and his wakeful hours; Lucifer couldn’t seem to get away from him.
“Couldn’t sleep?” the deer demon crackled. He was immaculately dressed, as always, and he tilted his body towards Lucifer’s as though to emphasise the height difference.
In his still-sleepy state, Lucifer kind of wanted to admire him. Alastor never seemed to have a hair out of place. Actually, it was a little obsessive—but imagine being the demon who could ruin that perfect veneer.
The fallen angel washed the thought away with another swig of wine. It was far closer to the sin of lust than pride, not that he wanted to admit it even to himself.
“Isn’t our little hotel good enough for the King of Hell?”
“It’s not your hotel,” Lucifer ground out.
The Radio Demon stepped towards him, until he was close enough to curl one gloved hand around the wine bottle and tease it from Lucifer’s grip. He slipped behind the bar and produced two small glasses, holding each by the stem as he filled them. “It’s not polite to drink from the bottle,” Alastor told him, composure completely unruffled. He seemed to have gotten over his earlier discomfort at Lucifer’s aggressive flirtations.
“It’s a good thing I’m not in polite company.”
“Don’t misunderstand me, your highness,” Alastor purred, “I could become very impolite indeed, if you chose to push me.”
“If I chose to push you?” Lucifer raised his voice. “All you do is try to get a rise out of me!”
The other demon took a sip of his wine before he responded. “Is it working?”
Lucifer wanted to break that glass over Alastor’s pretty face. In fact-
He stood, chair squeaking, and launched himself over the bar. He surprised Alastor momentarily as their bodies collided and soon both demons were on the floor, trying to get their hands around the other’s throat. Glass shattered, their forms turned over one way then the other, and abruptly Lucifer found himself straddling the other demon and holding him down.
Lucifer’s palms stung where he’d cut himself, golden blood seeping onto Alastor’s brilliant red coat where he held his lapels. His knuckles felt bruised and the Radio Demon had a split lip. Lucifer was satisfied to have landed a blow or two. Neither demon had resorted to magic.
“You need to back the hell off,” Lucifer growled. “Stop trying to get under my skin, and stop trying to take my daughter away from me.”
Alastor reached up towards the other demon’s face, making Lucifer flinch, though his hands stayed fisted in the Radio Demon’s jacket. One gloved finger touched the King’s cheek. It was surprisingly tender, until Lucifer realised the intention was to wipe something wet from his face. Alastor popped his finger into his mouth, coating his own tongue with gold.
This was too reminiscent of Lucifer’s dream. The memory of blood and teeth came back to him in a rush, and he was about to move, to get up, to save them both from embarrassment-
A soft moan crackled between them, almost too quiet to be heard.
And was that…?
Lucifer shifted slightly, testing to see if he was imagining it. He wasn’t. The fallen angel stared down at the other demon, trying to catch his gaze. When it finally did, he found lust staring back.
Their lips crashed together; it was entirely Lucifer’s doing, but Alastor didn’t resist as the King expected him to. He didn’t care that it was his blood that had turned Alastor on, instead of his body. He couldn’t deny that the idea of the other demon’s teeth in his flesh had the same effect on him.
Those teeth grazed Lucifer’s lips, eliciting a quiet moan. The tension between the two men had evolved into a horrible kind of foreplay; the thought sent a delicious shiver down Lucifer’s spine and into his groin. He was acutely aware of his lack of layers, especially compared to Alastor.
Transporting them quickly to Lucifer’s guest room seemed like a good use of his demonic powers. They found themselves on his cold bed, rumpled sheets shoved to the side. His ducky slippers remained behind the bar, where they’d fallen during the struggle.
While Lucifer had his mind on their location, Alastor’s had been on the golden blood he’d recently tasted. His hand cupped the back of Lucifer’s head, holding their mouths together, and he used his sharp teeth to pierce the plump flesh of the fallen angel’s lip. Both demons moaned as Alastor’s tongue flicked out to taste the fresh ichor.
Their mouths parted briefly, long enough for Lucifer to attempt to reassure the other demon. “Stop me if it’s too much,” he mumbled against the Radio Demon’s lips, not wanting to stop at all. He had been sure, however, that sex wasn’t Alastor’s thing, and he wanted to make it clear that his consent was important.
Hell, the fact he seemed to want him at all made Lucifer throb in his white pyjama bottoms.
“Don’t worry, your majesty,” was Alastor’s reply—only this time without the usual note of sarcasm. It also lacked the customary static of a radio signal.
Lucifer found it kind of sexy that the other demon had put down his microphone while they’d been kissing. It made Alastor seem a little vulnerable, and willingly so.
The fallen angel brought his mouth down again, at the same time letting his hands rest on Alastor’s coat buttons. He slowly began to undo one, giving the Radio Demon ample time to stop him. As their tongues tangled, he realised his accelerated healing could mean he’d have to be bitten repeatedly to maintain a flow of blood. The thought made him moan into Alastor’s mouth and rock a little on his lap.
The Radio Demon brought his mouth to Lucifer’s ear, breath tickling him as he spoke. “You don’t have to be quite so careful with me, dear,” he purred. “I certainly won’t be with you.”
Lucifer groaned. He was trying not to go too fast, trying to give Alastor the chance to stop him, but the other demon was making that difficult. “Good,” he murmured, thinking once more of his dream. He wanted to feel those teeth again.
As if reading his mind, the taller demon gripped Lucifer’s hips and quickly flipped them over. Alastor settled between the fallen angel’s legs, fingernails digging into his flesh. He pressed hard into the other demon, eliciting another, almost-desperate moan.
Alright, if Alastor didn’t want him to be so gentle.
Lucifer gripped Alastor’s jacket again and pulled; the buttons flew off all at once. The coat fell open to expose a bright red shirt, which Lucifer thrust his hands under to feel the other demon’s broad chest.
Alastor bared his teeth. He seemed to relish this excuse to become rougher.
Lucifer tilted his head, exposing his pale neck. It was a dare, a challenge, and one he knew Alastor would take him up on. He moaned with lust when the Radio Demon sank his pointed teeth into his throat and began to lap at the blood that seeped from the new wound.
More. He wanted more.
While angelic blood sizzled on Alastor’s tongue, Lucifer let his hands roam the deer demon’s body. Their erections throbbed against one another. He trailed his hands over any exposed skin he could get at, not afraid to tear cloth to get at what he wanted. He shoved his hands down the back of Alastor’s smart trousers and pressed their bodies closer.
Both demons moaned at the increased sensation, Lucifer’s into Alastor’s soft, fluffy hair and Alastor’s into Lucifer’s glistening neck. The Radio Demon bit down harder, sending a shock of pain and pleasure through the other demon’s body.
They were hardly touching, yet Lucifer felt like he was on fire.
Suddenly, he was there, brought right to the edge by those sharp teeth and the unexpected sounds of pleasure echoing in his ear. He pressed Alastor into him, moving his hips in a way that made his body feel exquisite. He was going to cum, right there in his pyjamas.
“My King,” Alastor purred, voice full of pleasure, as though he knew exactly the right thing to say in that moment.
It was Lucifer’s undoing and he cried out his euphoria into the dark, shadow-filled room.