Archive of Our Own

⋆⊱༻*❀❀❀*༺⊰⋆

Lucifer stared daggers into his cleared plate, streaked purple from left over pie filling with sprinkles of crust laid between the streaks, remnants of the rich, perfectly flaky crust. He knew Adam's signature blueberry pie like he knew his own voice. He made it every spring and this year was no different. The fluffy crust, the fresh blueberries and he always made it so sweet. So very sweet that, every year, Lucifer convinced himself to hold out a little longer, that maybe the sweetness of the pie was enough to make up for the lack in Adam's heart. 

But it had never been this tooth-achingly, heart-cloggingly, sugar-rushing sweet. And never had Adam decided to let his own slice go cold on his plate while Lucifer swallowed down every last bite of his own.

The thundering beats of his heart rushed denial through him, dropping his heart deep between the cradle of his ribs as he looked over his shoulder, right to where the dangerous plant laid, freshly ripped from soil that morning with dirt covered roots making a mess all over his counter, only to see that it was gone.

"You didn't." The harsh, spring sun felt too bright beaming from the windows as he whipped his head back around. "Did you?"

The slimy smirk Adam responded with was answer enough. But Lucifer had to actually hear it for his foolish, hope-infected soul to believe it.

A hand came up and rubbed the chin sprinkled with those sparse, prickling hairs of a beard that always scratched horribly at Lucifer. "Do what?" 

"Don't…don't be like that, Adam. I saw the flower on the counter earlier."

"Hmm, I guess the cat's outta the bag. I was betting you wouldn't notice, but it's not like you can do anything about it now." He leaned closer, the chair squeaking something horrible as his stench of breath drifted over the vase of dahlias on the table to invade Lucifer's nostrils. "How'd you like the pie this year?"

Lucifer felt every joint in his body lock in place until gently shaking. "How could you?" His voice was bitterly familiar, high pitched and sharp as a blade as his shaky hands covered his face like he half expected to start falling apart at the seams. 

Through his fingers, he saw Adam's grin grow, dripping with gruesome pleasure. Lucifer didn't know what he expected. Perhaps a bit of concern or remorse, but it was Adam, of course he wouldn't.

"I never thought you'd—" Lucifer bit back the words, still hoping it was all some nightmare he'd happily wake up screaming from. "I can't believe you would actually go through with it." 

"Funny." He said, dropping the word like an anvil. "I thought the same thing after I saw you with him."

The sight of Adam was blurred from budding tears, a softened image of someone who never once acted so. "It's not the same, Adam." 

His fist slammed down on the table, clattering Lucifer's fork and empty plate, almost knocking over the dahlias and making Lucifer jump in his seat. 

"This is what you fucking deserve! You belong to ME, not HIM." Adam's voice boomed through the house, shaking the foundation.

"You've killed me." Lucifer whispered.

"Oh." Adam dismissed, hitching on a chuckle. "Don't play the fucking victim—"

"You've killed me." Lucifer eyed the man, allowing that burgeoning flame deep in chest take control. The table clattered again as Lucifer slammed his fists against it. "I AM THE FUCKING VICTIM"

Adam shot up, rattling every dish in the kitchen as he quickly stomped closer to Lucifer, cursing through clenched teeth as he raised his backhand. Lucifer could already feel it making contact, he was surprised his face didn't have those knuckles and fingers imprinted in his skin after so many years. 

"YOU LITTLE FUCKING—"

"Having a bit of trouble?"Alastor's smooth voice sang from between his thin, smiling lips. He was casually leaned back against the frame of the open side-door. The golden light from the sun beamed in just so, to gleam off his dark curls and offer a sharp shadow of the slender man's silhouette to the floor. 

He continued. "Or have I stumbled upon another little squabble that's 'none of my business'?"

Lucifer's breath shortened, heart beating a mile a minute, knuckles gone white from gripping his chair as he watched Adam slowly straighten and face Alastor.

"Oh, I see." Adam rolled his eyes. "Knight in shining armor here to save the pretty little thing?"

"Let's make this quick." Alastor said, cutting the tense air with a single, razor-sharp look. "You don't deserve anything let alone an excess of my time."

Adam's fists bunched before lunged toward him with a yell, but he was quickly met with a crash to the linoleum when Alastor gripped his wrist and twisted him back, pressing a knee into his spine the moment his chest met the grime of the kitchen.

Lucifer got up, but the moment he stood, he knew there was no going back. His head felt as if it were a buoy floating at sea and his stomach punished him with sharp stabs of pain as if he swallowed a collection of knives. He looked up and thought gravity must be working overtime on his neck, and he may have just crashed to the floor right then and there if his pride hadn't kept him upright, damp-browed and out of breath. 

"Fuck." He whispered, trying his best to focus his straining eyes on watching Alastor finish what he started while he pushed away every effort toward death, hoping for any more time worth bargaining for.

"Get off me!" Adam shouted, thrashing and writhing as he swore to the man above. His limbs helplessly thumped the floor in an uneven tempo. His shoes squeaked bone-chillingly loud with every futile kick.

Alastor leaned in close to his ear, letting his spittle fly as he spoke. "You'll never get to lay another finger upon him." 

"Get off me! You have no right." He growled.

"Oh, and you did?" Alastor drawled.

With a strength only Lucifer was truly familiar with, Alastor flipped Adam over onto his back, straddling him before pulling a dagger from his belt, presenting it to the restrained man below him like he was interested in selling it.

Adam squirmed, hands uselessly scratching and pulling at Alastor's shirt, arms, neck, anything for even a modicum of control, and Lucifer prayed Alastor had a good enough grip. He knew what kind of damage Adam could do if let free, and it was a fate he'd only wish on Adam himself.

"Stop it! Get off!"

Alastor held the knife closer, raised only an inch above his chest.

"I'll let him free! I promise!"

"You say that like it matters." Lucifer said, voice ragged and rough as he subtly used the help of the table to get closer.

"What do we think love?" Alastor cooed, turning toward Lucifer. "I'd say it's about time we took out the trash."

Lucifer didn't respond. All he did was wearily step closer until his ankles were in danger of being victim to Adam's desperate attempts for control. Watching the wretched, thrashing man he once called his soulmate, his one and only, the love of his life grasp and squirm beneath the one who truly deserved the titles brought a bitter relief. 

He had a fleeting idea of telling Alastor to let him free, to make him promise to never do it again. But Lucifer knew Adam like he knew the back of Adam's hand. He knew it would be nothing but empty words used to buy more time. But even after everything he did to him, after every bruise, every black eye, every reminder that he belonged to him. A small, foolish part of himself still loved him, and still hoped he loved him back like he ever really did.

"I'm doing this because I love you." 

Lucifer was tempted to say it now. He had heard it so many times after Adam decided the best punching bag around was the man he married. Lucifer believed it for a while, years in fact. Too love-struck and sheltered to know it wasn't really love. Too naive to see that he was just using him. For money? For recognition? For the image of having someone as beautiful as Lucifer on his arm? 

He didn't know. 

He didn't really think it mattered either. All he knew was he had a permanent crack on his heart from how badly Adam broke it, and that he needed nothing more than to see that beast of a man meet a fatal end by the edge of Alastor's freshly-sharpened blade.

Lucifer dropped down, paying no mind to the shock of pain up his legs as knees met the hard floor.

"You took everything from me." The words sounded as if they were torn up in his mouth before falling out. "Lied to me. Used me…This is the least you could do."

Alastor gathered both of Adam's wrists in one hand, slim fingers able to wrap around to meet himself again. He pushed them down and into Adam's stomach before setting the tip of his dagger between two ribs.

Despite it all, when Adam looked down to see his ultimate fate, he laughed. A hideous, disgusting laugh with his eyes going wide with craze and spittle flying all around, his belly shook with laugh after laugh before he locked his eyes on Lucifer and sighed. "You know." He said between heavy breaths. "A little part of me knew it'd end like this." Adam's chest raised and lowered quickly, sweat dripping from his brow as his slimy smile parted again. "See ya."

"So long." Alastor said with a smile before slipping the hair-sharp edges between two ribs and right into his heart.

They didn't last long, but Lucifer was surprised Adam's screams didn't shatter every window, glass, and vase in the house. He flailed and struggled under Alastor's body, limbs doing anything in their power to garner any control back as the blood steadily leaked out of his wound around the weapon, seeping through clothes, skin, and pooling at the floor. And Lucifer would have felt any flavor of remorse for him if he hadn't sat with a dark pit rooting for deathly control in his stomach. 

Alastor was eerily still as he held the blade deep and waited for the last few desperate twitches from the man to dissolve. It wasn't until his pale head lulled to the side, dripping blood from the blue-lipped mouth and the strange calm from his colorless, motionless eyes that Alastor finally pulled the now-red dagger free.

He grabbed Lucifer's hand, leaving the sallow man to leak blood until the floors were stained with Adam.

"C'mon now." He said, pulling Lucifer up and toward the open door with the perfect picture of vindication lighting his face. "There's a train that can get us out of town, but we have to hurry."

"Alastor, wait." Lucifer pulled him to a breathless stop in the middle of the field, begging the tears to stay back enough to get the words out, hoping death would wait long enough to tell him everything that dark, lovely soul deserved. "I can't."

"What do you mean? He's gone now, you're free. We can—"

Lucifer tried to speak, but his breathing slowed, vision flashing out for a second as he latched on to Alastor's arm. With his mouth dry and body aching, he looked up at Alastor to see his bright smile was gone, replaced with an undeniable beginning to grief.

The bloody knife fell, landing on the grass beside them as Lucifer let Alastor take the bulk of his weight, barely able to keep standing.

"What's happening?"

Lucifer tried to speak again, but all that came up were a series of cracking, wet coughs. It beat his chest like a mallet to a gong. Lucifer thought an entire lung would come up with them.

The coughs eventually settled, and Alastor held his face inches from his own, smoothing his thumb over Lucifer's brow as he stared down like he'd just seen a ghost.

"Adam, he did it." He finally managed to squeak out through the raw throat. Alastor's eyes went wobbly and curious down from where he towered. "I let it happen. I saw the belladonna, I saw it on the counter. But I never thought he'd really do it."

"What? Lu—"

"It's my fault. By the time I saw it was gone, I'd already eaten it. I'm sorry. I should have—" He swallowed down a sob, internally cursing the tears away. "I should have done something."

"No. No Lucifer, this wasn't you." Alastor frantically whispered, a sour flavor to every word as he looked Lucifer up and down. "What do I do? What can I do? There—there has to be something, a cure, an anecdote. There's a doctor in town, I can carry you—."

"You can't do anything. It's done." He said as he stifled another cough, harboring just enough energy to keep his head up. "It's not called 'deadly nightshade' for nothing."

Alastor froze for a moment. Flicking his eyes all over Lucifer's face. Lucifer could see the need to solve this problem working the gears in his head to no use.

A few strands of hair fluttered as Alastor's head shook slightly, words whispering out with a renewed hope. 

"No. No, there must be something, maybe one of these flowers, I can whip up a—"

"Alastor." Lucifer pressed a kiss to his palm before nuzzling back against it as a particularly harsh stab of pain shocked his stomach, but he forced the words out. "There's—there's nothing. It's only a matter of time."

"No." It was a small, breaking voice that pushed splinters into Lucifer's heart, one he had never heard him make before. He continued, desperately. "We need more time, we finally—" He choked on a sob. "This isn't fair."

Alastor's tremors shook them both, his face twisting in sorrow as he wrapped himself tight around Lucifer, silently sobbing into his hair until they both fell to the ground, crashing down to be cradled by wildflowers and tall, yellow-green grass with Lucifer straddling his hips.

Lucifer licked his lips, trying to get any moisture back on his tongue as he settled into the warm circle of Alastor's shaking arms. His head turned to hear Alastor's heart beating and lungs struggle for air between his sobs that soaked into Lucifer's blond locks. 

It was bitter-sweet. It was time meant for vindication, freedom, but utterly ruined.  Lucifer was glad he finally didn't feel alone, yet there was a knot in his stomach, tightening at knowing that this was their only moment of peace, their one moment where they didn't have to worry about Adam catching them, their one moment where they could finally just be. And it was the worst moment of their lives. It seemed even after death, Adam controlled Lucifer's life.

They laid there, desperate, painful messes clutching to each other's shirts, tangled in the carnations, marigolds and overgrown grass of the house Lucifer despised to call home with Adam's dead body returning to the dust of the ground no more than a couple dozen feet away. And yet, Lucifer felt the world gripped in his hands. 

If only that ball of relentless, jagged pain would subside. It's endeavor to infect every fiber of Lucifer's being gaining progress with every second they laid there, a position that had always made Lucifer feel safe, loved. He just wanted to feel good again. Send that coiling, twisting agony off. To exit the world with a blooming pleasure rather than pain. Even if only for a little while.

And if he really wanted it, he'd need to act fast.

With great effort, Lucifer raised his head, pressing the point of his chin into Alastor's chest that hitched with every tear-laced breath that soaked into the humid air between them. And it took a moment before Alastor loosened his hold enough for them to see each other clearly.

"If you could do one thing for me?" He said low, surprised at how hard it was to speak.

"Anything." Alastor whispered, eyes red and worn as they struggled to look through tears. "Anything you want, I'll do it."

"Make me feel good."

Alastor's head tilted, brows furrowing, and damn those curls, catching sun between the locks, reflecting that bright wonder right back into Lucifer's soul like it had when they first met.

"Let me be one with you." Lucifer's hand let go his shirt, the pain of releasing a hold so tight shimmering through his fingers before they gently caressed Alastor's lips. "One last time."

There was a moment where the two of them seemed paused, letting the world and it's chirping birds and wafting breeze continue on like rocks allowing the river to flow around them as Lucifer waited for him to react. It wasn't like he had anything to lose or allowed embarrassment even an inch within him. He wanted him, of course he did, especially knowing it would be the last time.

A warm static set in around them, and Lucifer might have known what Alastor would do next if he dared to take his eyes off those thin, parted lips.

"Lucifer."

Alastor adjusted beneath him, and a small smirk made its way to Lucifer's lips when he felt the hardening cock begin it's eager press against his own.

Without a moment to get bearings, Alastor was sitting upright before pushing Lucifer down on his back. He watched Alastor's body greedily pull his pants down, framed between the blooming red amaranth and white carnations with a stark, blue sky behind. He tore Lucifer's pants away like he'd done so many times before. The breeze felt refreshing as it cooled every sweat-damp span of his skin. Lucifer pushed away the stabbing death in his stomach, hoping every inch of Alastor could burn that pain away.

It wasn't long before Alastor was hurriedly hovering over Lucifer, pausing until the only movement was the wind rustling his whiskey curls and dancing the shadows of stems and petals that lay over him. 

Pulling a long drag over his own cock, Alastor sucked in a breath through his teeth and stared down at Lucifer, red-eyed and ready.

"Anything."

Lucifer smiled up at him, swallowing back against his dry mouth again. He heaved a breath as his arms, heavier than anticipated, raised to latch around his neck. His words simply breathed out of him. "Thank you." 

Alastor sunk down onto him, his tongue searching out Lucifer's. A small whine eased out of him, and Lucifer could see through slit eyes the way his face scrunched in on itself. Those large hands gripped Lucifer's arms tight, bunching the fabric until threatening to cut off flow of blood.

The loss of Alastor's lips as he lifted away was just another pain to count in his chest.

"You taste so sweet."

So fucking sweet.

"Please." Lucifer whispered. Eyes gone blurry either from the stampede of death or the tears. 

Alastor moved, setting himself right at Lucifer's entrance. 

"I still need to prep you."

"Fuck it. Not like it'd matter if I tore anyway."

His smiled turned sour. "Physics works against us here. I'll need to slick myself at least."

A breeze rustled the amaranth around them, catching Lucifer's eye with the red hue of petals. His gaze was pulled down, to something else red, the blade, still dripping with Adam's final seconds.

Moving his arm felt like moving a statue. "This." The blade was heavy in Lucifer's hand, the smooth, wooden handle sliding into his palm with ease.

"Adam's blood?" Alastor asked hesitantly.

"Why not? Make him useful for once."

The corners of Alastor's needle-thin lips turned up. With his hooded eyes locked to Lucifer, he retrieved the knife, swiping the blood off the flat of the blade while Lucifer silently hoped he would be careful to not cut his finger.

When he finally broke his eyes away from Lucifer, a deep breath slid in and out of him, his arm bending and extending with his hand just out of Lucifer's view, but, of course, he knew precisely what he was doing.

He glanced back up to him, leaning over again with a freshly wet hand to caress Lucifer's cheek. Just barely peeking above the edge of eyelids was Alastor's budding tears, daring to be full bloom as Lucifer noted the barely-there red tint below his eyes.

Alastor inched closer, a great effort pushing past the barrier of Lucifer's tight rim with Adam's blood in assist. The head of his cock slipped through, and Lucifer spread his thighs even more for even a modicum of more room. 

His head fell back into the grass, a long-stemmed carnation falling over his cheek, cooling the overly warm skin as he took deep breaths, calming his body to let him in.

Alastor's hand raised to his face again, smoothing his thumb over the apple of his cheek while he cradled his jaw in his palm. The thumb spread blood over his skin again, before his head dropped just beside Lucifer's jaw.

"Lucifer." He whispered his name against his neck like it was a secret held from the flowers. "You're so tight."

"Keep going." His breath labored against the words and every aching pain only felt worse the further in he went, but damn him if he didn't crave it. Pain or not, he wanted Alastor.

With a final push and a groan so deep it dug into the ground beside them, Alastor's hips met Lucifer's, completely sinking his cock into him. Lucifer's hole clenched around him, throbbing against the sudden guest as Lucifer's fists bunched at the back of Alastor's shirt, nails threatening to poke holes through the fabric. 

With every breath, Alastor's chest pressed into Lucifer's. He held there, concealed within him before the flora around them rustled beneath his hands as he raised himself up.

His mouth was set agape, dreary eyes fixated on Lucifer as he breathed deep above him. Lucifer's hands had followed the curve of his shoulders, resting upon them as still as he could despite his quickly draining energy begging to pull them down to earth. 

Alastor's bottom lip turned in, captured between his teeth as he tested a roll of his hips.

Lucifer's head titled back, small blades of grass cutting into his neck as he felt all the air punch out of his lungs. His jaw clenched so hard it sent a strike of pain through his skull, but still, he kept his eyes on Alastor, watching as his face scrunched, whether more from grief or pleasure, Lucifer wasn't sure. 

Lucifer set his head straight at Alastor again, sucking a breath in through his teeth as he felt another slow roll of Alastor's hips push his cock in and out of him.

"Faster." The word punched out of him. "Please."

Alastor's arm slipped under Lucifer, setting right between the small of his back and the crushed carnations and marigolds. His hips sped up, gaining such dimension in movement that Lucifer could feel the contour of his cock sliding along his rim on every pass. 

Alastor's arm pulled his lower back off the ground and into his lap, letting Lucifer's shoulders lay in the flora below them. He sped up again, looking down at where he was rolling in and out. Lucifer followed his gaze, seeing the mess of red that his lap and thighs had become. Such a mess would typically have him worry of the clean-up later, but he didn't care, he was a goner anyway, and if blood-coated skin was what it took for him and Alastor to share a moment that was truly theirs, then he welcomed the sticky, congealed streaks over their skin.

The pain oscillating low in his gut caused him to spasm. Lucifer's arms fell beside him, bending as his back arched. It felt as though every joint in his body locked and seized. It took everything from him just to continue breathing through the painful yelps that made it past his teeth.

Alastor paused above him, gentle curls contrasted against the sharp, concerning lines that scoured his face.

"Don't stop." Lucifer grit out.

"You're in pain." Alastor's hand slipped between them, caressing Lucifer's stomach with a touch softer than Alastor had ever been, softer than Lucifer had ever wanted him.

"Take it away." Lucifer's breath labored through the press of the reaper's heel against his chest. "Replace it. Please." Another cough shoved it's way up and out of his lungs and Lucifer tasted a metallic flavor suddenly cover his tongue.

Alastor sat for a moment. His hand etched lines over Lucifer's stomach, smoothing the bloody fingertips across his skin as if magic would drip from the ends and clear away every ache. That hand pressed firm, sliding around Lucifer's waist until pulling him up from his back, denying gravity any claim on Lucifer's body as he sat him upright in his lap to drape his tired body over his chest. 

Alastor's breath vented beside Lucifer's ear, every small tremble in his voice displayed so hesitantly for Lucifer as he returned to his movements.

Lucifer wrapped as tight as he could around Alastor's shoulders, closing his eyes to simply let the smell of bitter-sweet flowers fade into him and fully experience the feel of taking Alastor into himself until joined in a soul possessing pleasure that waved over him through every jut of Alastor's hips.

For a moment, Alastor's breath was held, only to return with a few whimpers. Lucifer could swear he started crying, but when he leaned back into the grass, taking Lucifer with him, he seemed calm. Content even, to thrust and thrust as Lucifer laid ragged over him. 

A red, sticky hand raised to Lucifer's face again, turning his head to rest against Alastor's ribs. He sifted his stained fingers through Lucifer's hair, catching on every lock and causing red soaked locks of his blond hair to fall over his eyes.

His hips slowed as his head tipped back, but his eyes stayed locked to Lucifer. 

It was exceedingly harder to convince his lungs to breathe, but Lucifer forced the words out. 

"I wanna see you one last time."

"Lu." He thrusted deep, hitting right on Lucifer's sweet spot, but the sensation was lost in the forest of the aching, stabbing pain that was his listless body.

"Come on."

Alastor wrapped his arms tight around Lucifer, hips jutting up once more before Lucifer finally felt him spill over into him. Alastor's hands gripped the back of his shirt, pulling him closer as a deep, soul bending groan punched out of him.

"There you go." Lucifer sighed. "Thank you."

Alastor's back hunched, his face turning into Lucifer's neck, kissing along the sweaty junction of neck and jaw before landing last to his lips. Lucifer tasted the sadness on his tongue. Salt of sweat and tears seeping in as if it knew Lucifer like an old friend.

He lulled his head away from the kiss, resting on Alastor's chest once more. He expect to see Alastor to cry again, grip tight to his shirt or arms like he'd never let go. But he was steady. Calm and still like this was any other day filled with each other. Perhaps his eyes were tricking him. His brain simply showing what would bring him comfort the most in his last few moments.

Alastor's hand raised to Lucifer's face, gently scratching at his cheek with bloody fingertips.

"It will be okay." Alastor said, all energy wrung from his voice.

Lucifer said nothing, just curiously stared with lidded eyes the best he could from where his head laid.

Alastor's other hand reached beside them, pulling up the bloody dagger that took a rotten life moments ago. Lucifer felt a shock when he saw Alastor rest the tip right below his own jaw. 

"No…no…Ala…Alastor." Everything around him was suffocating. Dimmer, and blurry. But he could see see the red glint of sun off the blade. He struggled to raise his hand, a feather's strength trying to pull it away. He knew it wasn't really his arm that paused Alastor in his tracks. He took a deep breath, sighing out. "Don't."

"Lu, this is the only way." Lucifer could hear the smile around his words as he tilted his head. "I'd rather stain the flowers red than walk through the field without you."

Lucifer's hand tried to grip around his wrist, but his muscles were overwhelmed.

"I can't." He sucked in a breath, only getting half the air he expected. "I can't be the reason you—"

"You're the only reason I do anything." He pressed the tip harder into his skin. "Without you, I have—"

"Nothing."

His temple felt the hard press of Alastor's ribs on every breath. His eyes angled as far toward Alastor as he could manage, just able to see his face beyond the arch of his arm.

Lucifer's hand wearily pulled back from Alastor's arm, dropping to his shoulder with a thud. 

Whether from a last hurrah or his eyes finally decided to focus, Alastor's face went clear, every sharp angle clear as he'd ever seen them as the world beyond stayed a blur. His eyes softened, looking down at Lucifer like he was the reason the earth's ground brought the spring flowers. The corner of his mouth raised in a smirk.

"I'll see you on the other side."

Lucifer swallowed down a breath. "Promise?"

The two of them rocked once with Alastor's chuckle. "Promise."

Lucifer breathed in deep, adjusting his legs with herculean effort, feeling the slippery stillness of the cock still burrowed within him and covered in a mix of blood and cum. 

Alastor's eyes slipped shut, head tilting back as he held the knife closer to his throat. Lucifer rode the waves of his breathing, ear listening to the beat of his heart rise in tempo. Then, that already bloody dagger sliced through skin and muscle like a knife through raw salmon.

The sound was abhorrent. Choking, breathless sounds all while Alastor twitched and bled. The blood rivered out of the wound, soaking his shirt and the grass and flowers below. His legs kicked in and up against Lucifer while his hand dropped the knife, letting it lose itself to the grass before he was gripping on to his own shirt collar, pulling for any semblance of relief.

The heart below Lucifer's ear was weak. Barely able to beat, much slower than Lucifer expected it to be with how much Alastor was moving. And then it went still, a beat started but never ended, the rolling waves of breath ceased, leaving his head to press in a bitter comfort to the middle of his chest. The turn of Alastor's head followed, looking as if just sleeping, but his hands falling to the grass beside them put a period to the sentence Lucifer never wanted to read.

It could have been seconds, minutes, hours, Lucifer didn't know. All he knew was the look of Alastor's dark skin streaked in blood of his own and Adam's, cleanly sliced through exposing muscles that were never meant to see the light of day was mesmerizing in a way only a dead soul could possibly appreciate.

The pain in his stomach decided to subside right around when his eyelids were growing heavy. He forced them open, fighting back the call of sleep to get a few more glances at the lifeless love of his.

It went dark, but he resisted harder, trying to lift his arm up to Alastor's face to smooth his thumb over that cheek just one more time. But nothing was responding. His body had denied him the right to movement. No turning his head, no lifting his arm, not even a single twitch from his finger.

His eyes locked to Alastor's blood splattered cheek. The wind blew an amaranth bloom to bend over his face, deep, purple petals wiping blood off the dark skin with every pass. It sent Lucifer into a trance before all he could see was that flower dropping and raising from his cheek. Everything else turned blurry then black, all but that flower sucked into a black hole until it succumbed as well.

⋆⊱༻*❀❀❀*༺⊰⋆

There was, quite literally, no point for the two of them to keep track of time in hell.

It wasn't like hell had seasons to look forward to. The only ones they had were Hot, Hotter, and Hottest. It would only make sense to track the days to build years if you had some arrangement or job. But when you have the power Lucifer and Alastor had, it wasn't needed.

Hungry? Pop some food into existence.

Sleepy? Well that was one of the things they used the bedroom for.

Need money? No one can tell it's counterfeit if you're careful with how you summon it.

Bored? Need I mention the bedroom again?

But there was one, unstoppable thing that kept track of time for them. An annual event that scared the spirits right out of them the first time it happened, but had since turned routine with every passing year.

It always started with Lucifer. A bad taste lingering in his mouth like he'd eaten rotten berries. It tended to pop up an hour after he woke up because, of course even in hell, he loved his little routines. Making breakfast for them both before Alastor's heavy head raised from the pillow so Lucifer could happily sit in his chair in front of their floor to ceiling window that overlooked their cliff side view of Hell. Just to get a few minutes of time to himself and the red morning sun.

But that day, he'd slept in. 

He awoke, feeling groggy and like he hadn't even slept a wink—welcome to Hell—making a quick glance to the man drooling into his pillow mere inches away. But before he even had a chance to pet the sweaty locks of hair back against Alastor's brow, the sweet, familiar taste of nightshade was already dipped in the corners of his mouth. 

Lucifer slipped a finger in, searching between lips and teeth, sometimes he caught them against his gums.

A rustling came from where Alastor laid, and his eyes were squeezed tight like he was concerned. Lucifer looked down at him curiously, pulling his finger out of his mouth with nothing found.

Alastor looked up at him before sitting upright against the bed frame. The concern changed to curiosity as he seemed to smell the air.

"It can't have been a year already." Alastor asked, eyes flicking down to Lucifer.

"What? Like it ever forgets?" Lucifer teased before doubling over with a cough that he thought would bring up a lung.

Alastor rubbed his back, leaning closer to his face. Lucifer coughed into his hand, unsurprised to see a small white petal resting in the middle. He looked up to Alastor, presenting the small thing to him.

"You should really get that checked out." He responded.

"Oh shut up." 

Lucifer rolled his eyes before pulling Alastor closer, pressing his lips against his and letting his tongue do some exploring of it's own until a petal of Alastor's own traveled its way into Lucifer's mouth. They pulled apart, Lucifer presenting the reddish purple petal like it was a gift upon his tongue before huffing and taking the petal out of his mouth.

"How come you never have to cough for them to come up?"

"You're the only one who coughed that day."

"Okay, yeah, whatever." He chuckled, resisting the magnetic pull of their bed to clamber himself into the living room.

"Oh what?" Alastor asked as he scooted off the bus, running to catch up and wrap his arms around Lucifer from behind. "Don't want to ruin the bed this time around?"

"Yeah, no thanks. Dealing with that mess for days on end one time was enough." Alastor tsked as Lucifer continued. "Plus, we have this view, why not use it?"

He grabbed Alastor's hand, twirling out and pulling him backward toward the window, catching his gaze with hooded eyes and a sly smirk.

They collided inches from the glass. Lucifer putting his weight on Alastor, melting into the safe capture of his arms, already anticipating the heaviness he would soon feel. 

Alastor held him tight, fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck before dipping him down suddenly.

Lucifer barked a laugh, allowing the move to flow with an ease of trust he'd had for him since before their final breaths.

Alastor held him upright, holding him close to his chest. Another flower petal traveled up Lucifer's throat with another cough. One from a sharp-edged, deep red flower, and Lucifer's smile quickly faded as the memory of Adam came rushing back.

"Thinking about him?" Alastor asked.

Lucifer sighed, still staring at the petal. "I swear you can read minds."

"Only yours. But only because your face is like subtitles to me, and I know precisely what plant that petal comes from." Alastor tipped Lucifer's chin up with a finger, pulling his attention away from the petal. "Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry. It's been years, I should be over it by now."

"Oh stop that." He held him tighter. "There's nothing to apologize for."

The smell of flowers started emerging around them. Deep scents of carnations and dahlias filling every crevice and corner of their living room.

"I hate that I loved him. I hate that there's a small part of me that still does. That thinks of him as the confident bachelor he was when I met him, that still believes the lies he told me to get me to fall harder, to use me." His hand gripped Alastor's shirt tight, letting the petal be squeezed between his hand and the fabric. "I feel like an idiot."

"You're not." Alastor pressed Lucifer's head to his chest, swaying them together like a buoy on gentle waves. "No one in that kind of situation is."

Lucifer rested more of his weight against him, nuzzled into his chest as he let Alastor's words seep into him, hoping they'd take root and he'd find himself truly believing them this year.

A particularly harsh cough dredged its way up Lucifer's throat. Doubling him over until landing all fours to the floor. He hacked up everything from stems, petals, thorns. He was shocked an entire flower didn't land in front of him, spit-covered and bloody. His stomach was worse for wear, feeling like every flower he coughed up was ripped straight from roots planted in his stomach lining. His throat felt as though thorns gashed and sliced while on their way up, and his mouth tasted metallic. 

Alastor knelt beside him, gently maneuvering his body until he laid flat on the ground. Lucifer heaved a few breaths, looking up to see Alastor looking curiously down at Lucifer's chest. 

Lucifer, coughed up a few more times, trying to keep his mouth shut, but failing by bits. "What?" He managed to finally say.

"Your chest. Could you…do that trick?"

Lucifer tried to remember what trick he was referring to. Then it came to him. And without another word, Lucifer raised his hands to join in the middle, just an inch above his chest. His signature, golden magic threaded out, pulled taught and wide over him and unmoving until he was able to slip his fingers in and pull it apart to show a current image of his chest cavity. A neat trick he learned not too long ago. Something Alastor noted to try once their involuntary ritual came around again.

The view was astonishing, but revealing more than anything. The first thing Lucifer took notice of was just how much foliage there really was. Yellow carnations, just like the ones he grew in his and Adam's garden. Magnolias, the same flower Lucifer's mom cherished and spent too much on decorations of throughout his childhood home. And that striking, red dahlia right where his heart should have been. The same flower Adam gave him on their first date, and the same flower set on their kitchen table on that fateful day.

"There's no bella." Alastor whispered.

Lucifer looked up, seeing just how amazed Alastor was as he stared, transfixed on the cornucopia of flora emerging from Lucifer's chest.

"Bella?"

"Belladonna, nightshade, what he used to kill you—shouldn't it be here?"

Lucifer shook his head, taken aback. "It should, shouldn't it?" He looked harder around his chest, angling strangely to try and peek behind an intestine or a rib. "Isn't that why this happens to begin with?"

Alastor shrugged. "Perhaps we're wrong."

Lucifer looked to the side, brow furrowed with confusion as he closed the golden portal. 

"Well." Alastor switched his demeanor to casual peppiness so fast Lucifer almost got whiplash. "I suppose there's no use in prolonging my own."

He properly sat back on his haunches beside Lucifer, preparing himself for his own round against the flowers, and all Lucifer could do was prop himself up on his elbows and appreciate how easily Alastor could calm his nerves in such tense moments, for even in a gruesome, hell-invented recreation of his death, he still did everything with such elegance.

His hands raised, fingertips resting against his neck as he gave a cheeky wink to Lucifer among the coughed up stems and petals like this was an average day for him.

It didn't matter how many times Lucifer had seen it, his eyes never drifted from watching the way Alastor stepped into the role Hell forced him to play as easily as air flows in wind. And before Lucifer could even count the petals waiting in his mouth, Alastor's hands dug into his skin, slipping beneath the flesh until pulling it apart like a loose seam on a doll to let row upon row of deep, purple amaranths and white carnations flow from his neck.

His head fell back, still full of life as he let a few of his own red petals slip out of his mouth. Dahlias bloomed from the fresh gash, pushing through other flowers and growing in size, but Alastor watched none of it. His eyes set right on Lucifer, and never faltered for even a second. 

He winked, tipping his head further back. "See you on the other side."

Lucifer chuckled, heaving a breath before speaking. "Promise?"

Alastor's smile grew, eyes slipping closed before he crashed backwards onto the floor, a few purple petals flying up, taken by the air.

Lucifer's eyes grew heavy, and every passing second proved it was getting harder and harder to hold himself up. 

He laid himself down, setting himself right up against Alastor's side, resting his head on his shoulder for a prime view and eerily beautiful smell.

He watched as the flowers that poured out of Alastor's neck started to slow, flooding the floor around them in purples and reds, watching the white flowers float along like ducks in a pond until they eventually seemed to have no more left in the bouquet. 

Alastor's body twitched, arms jolting a few times before one fell to the flower-infested floor and the other sat limp and sandwiched between his body and Lucifer's.

The coughs subsided. They always did. Lucifer always accosted himself for having a favorite part of this debauchery. He hated every second of it the first time it happened, and it wasn't like it didn't hurt any less any year after. But he couldn't deny the fulfilling rush he had as he watched the roots and stems of every flower within him shimmy their way out between the wrinkles of his hands and coil around Alastor's. They interlocked into his, connecting and joining until Lucifer lost track of where Alastor ended and Lucifer began. It grounded him, waving calm over him despite the fact the worst moment of his life had been replayed like a damn VHS right in front of him for the umpteenth time and he didn't know when they'd be back.

But he didn't care. His life was Alastor. His love was Alastor. And so long as they were one, he might as well be in heaven.

⋆⊱༻*❀❀❀*༺⊰⋆