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On silent feet, Alastor traipsed through the forest, the trees parting for him as he walked, the very boughs quivering in his wake.
For he was king of this fabricated wood, and all its creation bowed before him.
But as he followed the creek that would lead him to his favorite resting spot, he paused, his ears twitching to attention.
Though still a-ways away, he heard something…out of place. Among the chirping of the birds high in the trees and the soft sway of branches in the breeze, there was a sudden splash of fresh water and the faint tune of a hummed lullaby as it flitted amongst the canopy, bouncing its way to him through the leaves.
It seemed that…he was not alone.
Odd, given that most manner of creatures knew to stay away.
The buck chuffed in annoyance, a puff of white fog forming at his lips in the cool morning air, and began skulking towards the unwelcome noise, curious as to who dared trespass in his home, and so early to boot.
Surely, he thought, his mouth watering as his ever-present smile deepened, pulling taut, straining against the green sutures that held his face together. Surely, he should teach them a lesson for stepping foot into his domain.
But as he crept closer to the sound, commanding the shadows to keep him hidden from view for the time being, he came across the clearing—a crystal clear pool at the base of a tall, pretty waterfall—and halted, the breath quickly leaving his body.
Because there, washing under the frothy, white waters…was a doe, beautiful beyond imagination, with pale golden fur that glistened in the light of the sun.
His eyes narrowed, darkened, a tinge of heat licking at his core.
Well…instead of ripping the intruder to shreds piece by piece, perhaps he could…have some fun instead.
So, he watched. He waited.
And for long minutes, Alastor bided his time, eyes focused intently on his prey as he scrubbed every inch of his body, long slender fingers gliding through the wet tufts, making sure every strand of sleek fur was untangled and pristine.
The beat of the buck’s heart began to pick up as the doe bent towards him, showing off the gleaming, soft fluff that covered his chest as he dragged his hands down the breathtaking curves of his torso and over the perfect swell of his supple backside, thoroughly but ever-so-slowly checking for missed areas.
As if…as if he knew he had an audience.
Still bathed in shadow, the demon’s cock twitched at the thought, his mouth again filling with saliva, a low, hungry growl rumbling out of his chest.
He wanted him, oh he wanted him.
And soon, soon he would have him.
But for now, Alastor continued to observe as his doe’s ears twitched, a nigh-imperceptible smile gracing his lips as he turned his back towards the sinner, focusing now on washing his arms in the waterfall, flaunting the slim, lithe length of his flawless body—his long, elegant back dotted with pretty, white spots, his impossibly thin waist, so small that the buck could feasibly easily close one hand around it. His plush but solid thighs, likely built from seasons of spiriting himself away from other prospective mates.
Waiting for the right one to come along. Waiting for the buck who would be worthy of such a being.
The heat that was now pooling in the deer’s core pulsed, and he exhaled a wavering breath.
Because he would be the one to finally catch him. To bed him, to claim him.
Unable to help himself, he lifted one hand to his groin, palming his hard, throbbing length. Slowly, he began stroking himself, attempting to alleviate some of the ache, the desire he felt.
But it was difficult, when mere yards away, the other deer relentlessly teased him—whether he knew it or not—and the Radio Demon was so, so very hungry.
However, instead of revealing himself, the sinner waited still.
The time wasn’t right—soon, yes, but not yet.
He wasn’t ready yet.
Alastor let the doe continue, until he thought himself clean enough that he stepped out from under the waterfall, his perky ears flicking off water as he waded waist-deep through the clear pool towards the formations of rocks that lined its banks.
Pushing himself up onto one of the largest flat-faced boulders—and one that conveniently mostly faced the buck—, he shook his entire body, droplets flying every which way, before settling down on top of the stone with a content sigh, sprawling himself out to let the hellish sun, now high in the sky, dry him, giving the buck the most astonishing view of his body.
His little mate was simply a vision under the vermillion light—utterly flawless.
Drawing him in, tempting him. Driving him wild.
But, as badly as the demon wanted to reveal himself…still, he waited, his fingers loosely wrapped around his cock, languidly, gently pumping himself, drawing every sensation out as his gaze dragged up the other man’s body.
He would gladly stand there until the end of time, just as he was, if it meant laying eyes on something so pretty, so exquisite.
But after several minutes of bathing in the warm light, the other deer began to sit up, deft fingers gliding down the line of his body before dipping between his thighs and…
Spreading them.
Guiding them easily, slowly, until they laid wide open.
Alastor’s heart stuttered in his chest, his knees going weak at the very sight of that pink, swollen cunt. His free hand shot out, grabbing hold of the closest tree, steadying himself as he exhaled a raspy, wavering breath.
Still in one now-trembling hand, his cock throbbed painfully, a glob of searing precome leaking out of his head and dribbling down his fingers as he continued to stroke himself.
Fuck.
His doe was already so ripe for him, so ready.
And oh, how ready the buck was to be buried deep within. So hot and wet and tight—he could almost taste it.
Cautiously, his would-be mate took a long glance down the treeline, looking for other predators in the area but—even hidden deep within the shadows of the forest, his lust-hooded eyes paused when they landed on the demon, their gazes locking, holding, as he slid one hand between his legs, and began touching himself.
In return, the demon’s own hand tightened around his shaft as it twitched and pulsed, his breathing turning shallow, wanting—needing—to be inside.
This doe was making him feral—and he was allowing it. To make the impending chase all the sweeter, he let it drag out.
He would have to earn his place, afterall.
In the clearing, the other man broke eye contact, his eyes rolling back into his head as it fell back, breathing a quiet, relieved sigh as his fingers circled his clit, his speed leisurely, unhurried.
And fuck, was he beautiful amidst the throes of this easy, relaxed pleasure.
Beautiful, stunning, glorious, perfect.
Soon, soon, he would be all Alastor’s.
And Alastor couldn’t wait to see what breathtaking faces his mate would make as he was fucked into the ground with reckless abandon.
For long minutes—a small eternity, really—the Radio Demon watched carefully, his hand following the same slow but measured pace, a stroke for a stroke, neither of them aiming to climax, but instead to build themselves up for what they knew was coming next.
But when the sinner noticed the dark spot forming on the rock, right underneath his partner’s backside, his eyes fixated on it intently and suddenly, it was all he could think of.
How badly he wanted a taste of that, how badly he wished for his nose, his tongue to be buried within, to feast on the doe until he was crying, screaming, begging for release…
Without thinking, the buck took a step forward and—
Snap.
Alastor froze, his heart faltering in his chest as the breath left his body entirely.
With wide eyes, he glanced down to where a branch lay, split it two, under his hoof.
Quickly, he looked back up at the other deer, who now sat stock-straight on his rock, his furry ears upright, piqued in alert as he stared the demon down, still hidden by the darkness.
There was a single moment of still, anticipating quiet as every ounce of control Alastor had been exercising until then shattered.
Drool dripping uncontrollably out of his mouth now, the buck shoved the shadows and trees alike aside and bounded out of the forest, straight into the pool, heading directly for the doe.
He needed him, and he needed him now.
But the moment the sinner cleared the treeline, the other man scrambled to his feet without hesitation, leaping off the rock just as Alastor reached out to snatch him, tufts of his fur just barely slipping through the sinner’s claws.
The Radio Demon slid to a stop, water violently flying everywhere, his eyes frantically scanning the trees for the doe—who had paused, just outside of the forest, watching him.
—And with a dark, smug grin, he flitted in between the trees, disappearing into the protective dark of the canopy.
Nostrils flaring indignantly at the challenge, the deer flung himself up onto the rock his mate had just vacated, the scent of his arousal still clinging to the surface.
Inhaling deeply, Alastor committed the smell to memory, his own smile widening.
If this was the game his pretty little doe wanted to play—well, he would certainly rise to the occasion.
Following the same trail, the sinner stalked into the forest on light feet, slipping quietly between the shadows and the trunks of the trees, listening closely for any hint of where he might have stolen away to.
But quiet fell upon him. No rustling of leaves, no tapping of light, quick feet in the dirt.
Nothing but the chirping song of the crickets hiding in the crooks of the branches and the hollows of the old, dead, collapsed trunks.
The buck slowed his steps, his breathing, as he took careful strides through the grass, the blades moving with no more than a whisper under his hooves.
Come out, come out, wherever you are…, he sing-songed in his head, his ever-present grin growing all the more deeper as his eyes slowly scanned every inch of the thicket around him, watching intently for a single leaf to move out of place.
Waiting for his perfect little mate to make a misstep.
For long minutes, Alastor carefully, silently crept through the underbrush, his velvet ears twitching to attention with every little sound—though none of them were his doe.
But he could feel them on him, the other deer’s eyes, watching each of the Radio Demon’s measured steps from wherever it was he was hiding.
You’ll be mine soon my darling, he promised, his mouth watering anew as he thought of that petite body, sprawled out under him begging for more, begging to be bred.
All mine. From that soft, golden fur, to that plump, pink—
A rustle in the bushes cut the buck’s reverie short, his gaze refocusing on his surroundings.
And there—yards to his left, a leafy bush trembled in the aftermath of quick, sudden movement.
But still, his mate was nowhere to be seen.
Alastor’s eyes narrowed, peering across the woods in search of a hint—the tip of an ear, the tuft of a tail, the bottom of a hoof.
Nothing.
The forest stilled again, not even a breeze dared sway the branches this deep into the trees, the sun barely peeking through the gaps in the canopies, as if frightened of his temper, not wanting to test his patience, his graciousness.
But then—
A flash of gold to his right, visible for only a moment before disappearing again amongst the dense vegetation.
Alastor tore through the bushes and the vines in pursuit—to no avail.
His mate was simply gone again, his deft body quick and slight, easy to tuck away and hide in the smallest of cracks and crevices.
But a moment later, his tall ears lurched, quickly swiveling around just in time to catch the clomp of cleft feet in the dirt, rushing to move to his next hideaway.
Behind him, he felt a whoosh of warm air, the heat of his partner’s body mere inches away forcing a thrilling shiver up his spine.
Fast as light, the deer spun, throwing out one arm, ready to catch the other man before he could flee again.
“Got you—,” he lauded to himself, voice triumphant and proud, heart pounding with victory as he closed his hand around—
Air.
Nothing before him now but…air.
The woods went quiet again, the swishing of disturbed bushes fading into nothing.
Staring at his outstretched arm, his fisted hand, the points of his claws poking into his palm, the sinner chuckled, low and deep and dark.
I see, the buck understood with amusement.
His hunt…was toying with him.
Oh, what a clever little doe he was.
Drawing out the chase, drawing out the fun.
Drawing out the hunger, the desire, the madness, until Alastor’s already fraying control was hanging by a single, straining thread, ready to snap and unravel him completely.
To make the catch all the sweeter.
To turn him into a feral, famished beast.
Good.
And for a while longer, Alastor allowed his dear mate to taunt him, to purposefully torment him with his closeness before pulling away again, out of reach, leaving him cold, alone, and empty.
To rile him up until he was burning hot, rearing to go, aching to fuck the man into the ground until he couldn’t remember his own name.
Saliva dripped freely from his mouth as his heart beat wildly in his chest, his breathing shallow and uneven as he chased the deer about the wood, bounding through the underbrush like an untamed animal desperately hunting for its next meal.
Until he couldn’t stand it anymore, his limbs shaking, muscles pulled taut with agitation, his groin pulsing painfully with that venomous, bottomless craving.
He needed his doe. Now.
And in the middle of the forest, he paused.
Willing himself to calm, the Radio Demon closed his eyes, slowed his breath. Focusing, focusing.
The other deer was smart, yes. And agile. But Alastor knew these woods, knew the shadows that stalked in every crevice of every tree, every leaf, every blade of grass. The shadows that sang hymns in his veins.
And the scent, he thought darkly.
The trail that his would-be mate left behind, still rich, potent on those slender fingers, lingered on every surface that he had touched, leading the buck to his exact whereabouts—
—There.
With a grin, the demon ran off to his right—baiting the other man into thinking he had given up—before silently slipping into the shadows, making his way back. Hiding behind the trunk of a large tree nearby, he cloaked himself in the darkness of the forest that surrounded them, hiding himself completely from view.
Waiting, waiting for his prey to believe himself alone, to draw closer and closer to his trap, his downfall.
And finally, finally the sinner heard it.
The crush of grass beneath cautious hooves. The snag of delicate bramble twigs on that beautiful, silky fur. The steady, quiet, careful breaths as he stepped ever closer.
Almost…
Almost…
Now.
Alastor braced himself before suddenly leaping out of the shadows, tackling the doe to the ground.
The other deer yelped in surprise as they went tumbling together along the forest floor.
And when they had finally slowed to a stop, the buck rolled on top, straddling his mate’s body. Using his weight to press his front firmly down into the dirt, the demon ran his nose up the column of the other man’s neck, deeply inhaling that…alluring, enthralling scent.
A scent he could never tire of.
“Found you,” he growled softly into the doe’s ear, his long tongue snaking out to have a taste of his flesh, salty and sweat-slicked.
And fuck, had it been worth it.
A shiver tore through the man beneath him, a pitiful moan rising out of him and Alastor’s cock throbbed again as he slowly rubbed himself through his mate’s folds, his shaft gliding easily through the pulsing, inviting heat, dripping wet with his own need.
His eyes closed as he groaned, low and rumbly, muffled by soft, damp tufts of fur as he pressed his face into the crook of the man’s shoulder.
A fine, exhilarating chase he had been led on, yes. But now, it was time.
Finally, it was time.
As if reading his thoughts, his mate whined desperately, pressing back against him, grinding his soaked cunt against Alastor’s length, struggling for some kind of further friction, all but begging to be entered.
So needy, his poor doe was. So…pent-up.
Almost as bad as he was.
And oh, how he was going to give his partner exactly what he wanted.
But…well, it wouldn’t be too awfully wicked of him to…play with his food a little first…right? The same way his food played with him?
Forcefully reigning his tattered control back into place, the Radio Demon hummed darkly, stilling his hips.
“Please,” the other deer said, a single, breathless, gasped plea, wriggling his hips, searching—aching—for relief.
Dragging his lips back down the line of man’s neck, trailing sweet kisses along his skin, he chuckled.
“Now, now, darling,” the buck purred, lips pressed to pelt as he made his way down the length of his partner’s pretty spine, one hand wrapped around the back of his neck to keep him pinned face-first in the grass. “You had your fun, didn’t you? And I just know that you…wouldn’t deny me mine now, would you?”
A quiet whimper rose out of the doe as his fingers dug into the earth under him, his whole body tensing as a fresh wave of the inebriating scent of his arousal filled the air.
“Oh my,” Alastor teased softly, releasing his mate’s neck as he crawled back up to whisper once more in the other man’s ear, his nose caressing the thin, velvety shell, reveling in the gentle tremble that had overtaken him. The demon reached down then, his hand brushing over the perfect swell of the doe’s backside before slipping it between his legs, swirling his fingers in the saturated warmth he found there. “Did you like that?”
His mouth watering anew at the prospect of a taste, the sinner pulled away completely, sitting up and resting back on his legs.
“Be a good boy for me,” he started, coaxing the deer to turn onto his back. “And let me savor my breakfast.”
Pliantly, the pretty thing did as he was told, and Alastor’s eyes greedily raked up his front, formerly pristine fur a wild tangle of half-dried curls, stained with dirt, broken blades of grass and dry, crushed leaves stuck between the tufts. His face was flushed a beautiful scarlet as his chest heaved with quick, uneven breaths, his hooded eyes gazing back up at the buck, begging him, imploring him. And his legs…
His legs were screwed shut, poorly attempting to hide the matted, sticky mess he’d made of himself.
Alastor clicked his tongue in faux admonishment.
“Look at you,” he rumbled, unable to stop the steady trail of saliva from leaking out of the corner of his mouth. “Already so wet for me, so ready to be mine.”
The color in his mate’s cheeks deepened, and the Radio Demon refused to waste anymore time.
“Quite the hunt you’ve led me on, my star,” he went on, a chuckle in his voice as he gently but forcefully pried his partner’s thighs open again, that heady scent of flowing water and ripe fruit wafting into his face. With a low, staticky growl, he bowed between them, guiding the doe’s legs up, over his shoulders.
“But now that I have you…I will reap my reward.” He raised his eyes, their gazes locking. “In full.”
Without warning, he pressed his nose flat against the man’s cunt, inhaling deeply—straight from the source and into his lungs, letting it fill him, take him, and bring him to his metaphorical knees.
Because dear God, did he smell like Heaven.
A fire lit in his core, his groin pulsing anew. With a muffled groan, he felt more precome trickle out of his cock, pooling on the ground beneath him.
And finally, finally, Alastor allowed his tongue to snake out for a single taste of sweet ambrosia, slowly dragging it up from entrance to apex—and it was everything he’d been anticipating, everything he’d ever dreamed it would be.
So good, so intoxicating was that single taste that a pleasured chuff slipped out of the sinner, and his doe’s back arched high into the air, his fingers digging deeper into the ground. A strangled cry slipped from him, his whole body tensing.
The buck’s smile turned feline at his reaction, deepening, tugging at the green stitching at the corners of his mouth.
With a hum, he withdrew his tongue, planting languid, sweet kisses along his mate’s soaked lips, wetting his own with that perfect, dewy nectar, softening up the skin in preparation for his feast.
“Al,” his partner rasped, his voice rough and desperate, impatiently wiggling his hips against Alastor’s mouth.
“Patience is a virtue, my darling,” the deer teased without lifting his head, his words muffled, vibrating between his doe’s legs, making him clench his jaw with a quiet whine before blowing out a tight, breathy laugh.
“And since when have I been known for upholding many virtues?”
A chuckle rumbled out of the demon’s throat and he pulled back for a moment.
“Fair point,” he conceded and, with a wicked grin down at the other man, he buried his face back into that silky, inviting cunt.
“F—uck!” His little mate choked, his back bowing off the ground again, his thighs squeezing Alastor’s head tightly.
The sinner let his eyes fall shut as he lapped at the doe’s juices like a starving stray, dipping his tongue deep into that tight, wet heat, each luxurious swipe trickling more and more of that sweet honey down his throat, quenching his thirst but not quite sating his ravenous hunger.
Urged on by his partner’s pretty moans and angelic bleats, the buck’s cock pulsed with searing warmth. His head swam, his legs felt weak. Though never stopping his assault on the other man’s entrance, he pitched forward a bit, shooting out one hand to catch and steady himself.
Shaky, desperate fingers entwined themselves between the locks of his hair and tugged, forcing his tongue in as deep as it could go and—ever obliging—, he swirled it around inside of his mate, whose body began to buckle, curling in on itself as he begged Alastor for release.
He was close, the Radio Demon realized, feeling the deer’s walls quiver and contract around him.
He was close, so close.
And then, the sinner would make him his.
And the mere thought of being inside of him, of filling him, of claiming him, had Alastor’s hips rutting into the ground as he continued to devour his doe, chasing some form of relief.
Soon, soon, he promised himself.
So very soon now.
A deep, muffled moan slipped from him as the soft, cool earth rubbed against his aching length, the vibration of his lips forcing a shiver to tear through the other man—and a mere moment later, he heard the cry as his partner was thrown over the edge, his climax rushing through him suddenly and quickly, bathing the buck’s tongue in sweet libation.
Drowning him, marking him.
Baptising him in sin.
Around the demon, his partner’s thighs loosened, his body going limp as he slumped back onto the ground, his chest heaving with whimpering moans as he tried to catch his breath.
“Fuck,” he whispered, staring up at the canopy of leaves above them as Alastor removed the deer’s legs from his shoulders, resting them on his hips as he straightened once more.
Gazing down at his doe with soft, hooded eyes, the sinner palmed his cock, stroking it idling as he lined his leaking tip up with his partner’s swollen, abused entrance.
There was no time for reprieve—he’d waited long enough for this.
He was hungry—starving.
Besides, there was no rest for the wicked, he thought darkly, the shadows around them growing, steeping them both in the cold, endless darkness.
And his little mate was the most wicked of all.
With one, swift, unforgiving thrust, Alastor pushed inside of that warm, inviting cunt, stretching and filling his partner to the brim in a single moment.
Underneath him, the man cried out, his muscles tensing again, his pillowy walls eagerly welcoming the demon, pulling him in and squeezing him tightly, still shuddering around him in the wake of his previous release.
Heat encompassed the buck, hot and searing as it spread from his groin and to his core, crawling up his chest and permeating his head, his mind.
And just like that—the control that he had so desperately clung to snapped.
Instinct took over his body, the beast roiling beneath his skin as his hips began moving of their own accord, the pace they set from the start brutal, punishing.
“Fuck!” his partner exclaimed in surprise as he scrambled to find purchase, both legs tightening around Alastor’s waist to avoid being repelled back into the dirt.
But he didn’t let up—he couldn’t.
He needed this—and he needed it now.
Relentlessly, he had been teased. Had been pushed to the brink.
And regardless of the fact that the demon had let it happen, well…
Now the doe needed to pay.
“Fuck,” his mate cursed again as the demon continued to mercilessly ram into him, though this time the word was shrill, laced with pleasure. “Al—Oh, fuck, I—I’m—”
Without any other warning, the other deer’s body convulsed, his walls clenching around his cock as he was suddenly forced over the edge early—much too early.
Alastor guided his doe through his climax—not unkindly, but certainly not any slower—, until the man was sprawled beneath him, his limbs trembling and his cunt twitching in overstimulation.
—And only then, did the buck pause.
“So soon,” he purred, gazing down at his beautiful little star, simply glowing in his premature aftermath.
But he wasn’t done yet—oh, no. Not even close.
Gripping his partner by one arm, the Radio Demon roughly tossed him back over onto his front, the sinner’s malicious, greedy grin only deepening as he watched as the man struggled to raise himself up on shaky arms.
Brusquely, Alastor grabbed his mate’s backside, forcing it up into the air, his entrance red with use, and dripping with their combined fluids, the golden fur around it slick, sticky and matted.
And the mere sight of it, of that pretty, perfect hole, tempting the sinner, entreating him…
A shiver coursed through him, down to the tips of his fingers, the head of his cock.
Digging his claws into the doe’s hips, he slammed himself back in, his fervor, his need renewed. Under him, his exhausted partner mewled feebly as the vicious pace continued—but this time, the buck meant to continue until he was finished.
Thrusts quick and precise, barely pulling out before pushing back in, the sinner’s mind was hazy with ecstasy. Being so deep within his mate, his cunt hugging the deer so tightly, so perfectly…it was hard to keep his thoughts straight.
And, similarly, it seemed the other man felt the same.
It wasn’t long before his star’s arms had given out completely and his torso had sunk down to the ground, the demon’s hands grasping his hips the only thing keeping his legs up. His forehead was pressed into the cool grass, his eyes staring, unseeing, into the dirt beneath him. His mouth hung open, saliva dribbling freely from one corner, and the only sounds coming from those pretty lips were faint moans.
Amused, Alastor grinned sharply.
“Do you like being fucked like this, my darling?” He asked, low and deep and dark, his claws curling into the doe’s fur, poking at his skin as his tempo increased further. “On your knees for me, soaked in your own slick, barely able to speak?”
“Al…,” he managed, a pitiful little whimper, just as another wave of that intoxicating scent drifted into the air, and the buck could feel an increased warmth against his groin, dripping down his leg.
A pleased growl rumbled out of his throat at the new sound of the squelch upon every re-entry.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckled, though immediately, his cock throbbed, the slide of his partner’s entrance against his length so smooth, so silky.
How yielding his mate was.
“Fuck,” the Radio Demon rasped. “That feels good.”
So good.
He let his eyes fall shut, his brow furrowing tightly as he focused solely on that wetness, on each and every push.
He could feel it building within him—his release. It was close, so close—right on the precipice.
And just then—he could feel it.
Around the base of his cock, it began to grow.
He should stop, Alastor knew. Before it was too late.
But he couldn't, the monster crawling under his skin refused.
More, it said.
More, more, more.
His pace was inhuman now, bloodthirsty, striking the doe with precision over and over and over again, until his moans turned to pleas, to sobs, to cries of rapture as they neared their ends together.
The buck’s cock was pulsing now—pulsing with a desperate need to claim his mate, the searing heat in his core threatening to overheat his entire body if he didn’t.
And when he felt the other man begin to tighten around him again, he knew.
He knew it was time.
“That’s it,” the sinner urged through clenched teeth, fucking into the deer with brutal, reckless abandon. “That’s it—”
“Al—,” his star begged, his voice high and shrill.
“That’s right,” Alastor ground out, his fingers digging into the doe’s flesh, trying to hold him steady as his own thrusts grew wild and unmeasured. “Be—fuck—Be a good boy—”
“Al—,” the other man sobbed again, hands pulled into shaking fists, his eyes squeezed shut, his face tight.
“Come on,” the demon all but snarled.
Close, close, close—
“Come for me.”
And with those words, his partner threw his head back with an echoing cry, his cunt clamping down hard around Alastor, walls trembling frantically against his shaft.
Eyes rolling back into his head, the buck continued driving into his mate as his release took hold of his body, his own climax rising, rising, rising—
Take him, claim him.
With one, final thrust, he slammed his cock into the deer, pressing in until the knot secured itself inside of his entrance, affixing them together and, with a low, gravelly groan, the buck spilled himself inside.
And finally, finally—relief washed over the sinner, cold and refreshing.
Chest heaving and arms trembling, Alastor gazed down at his pretty little doe, beautiful on all fours with his face flushed bright, his forehead glistening with a sheen of sweat, his eyes streaming lovely, crystal tears.
Lucifer—his precious, exquisite, perfect mate—lifted his head after a moment, grinning back at him, his glassy gaze sparkling with light, and love, and pure, undiluted bliss.
Like a star in the dark, dispelling the haze—the lust-filled frenzy the deer’s mind had been prisoner to.
“Do you…,” his partner started between deep, gulping breaths, lifting one dirt-covered hand to wipe away the saliva that ran down his chin. “Feel better?”
The Radio Demon allowed his eyes to close, a muted smile on his lips as he leaned forward, resting his forehead between the King’s soft, furry shoulderblades.
“Very much,” he replied, sighing against the angel’s back.
“Good,” Lucifer said before dipping down, stretching out his arms and torso like a cat, a satisfied groan rising out of him. When he raised himself up again, he reached back, gently ruffling Alastor’s hair before trying to wriggle out from under him. “Okay, let me up.”
“Darling—,” Alastor tried quickly, but the angel continued babbling on.
“I definitely need another shower—with soap this time—and then maybe some…”
The Radio Demon bit back a cringe as his partner’s words began to trail off, his confused gaze looking back to where they were still joined. Realization lit across his face, his eyes widening in alarm as he peered back up at the sinner.
“Did you—”
This time, Alastor couldn’t stop the wince, his usual smile twisting, his lips pulling back.
“I couldn’t help it,” he offered by way of explanation—even if the excuse was pathetic—, though he hoped his tone conveyed an apology. “You felt…” He sighed, hanging his head. “Far too good and I…couldn’t stop myself.”
And thankfully, thankfully, the King huffed out a laugh, an exasperated but teasing smile brightening up his face again as he rolled his eyes.
“Well,” he started, the amusement thick in his voice. “I guess it’s a good thing we don’t have anything important to do today, isn’t it? Come on.”
He began lowering himself back onto the ground, and the buck didn’t have much of a choice but to follow him down, mirroring his position.
“Better make ourselves comfortable. I think we’ll be here a while.”
With a light chuckle of his own, Alastor slid his arms under his doe, bundling him up in a safe, warm embrace as they made themselves comfortable in the grass, gently cradling his small body close. With a content hum, Lucifer rested his arms atop the other deer’s, pushing himself back until he was flush against his partner, as close as they could possibly be.
For a long while, they laid in the brush, the King’s hands lovingly, soothingly, rubbing across the sinner’s forearms as they calmed, happily but softly humming along with the birdsong high above them in the trees.
Irrevocably content, a low, staticky rumble began vibrating out of the Radio Demon’s throat as they rested under the canopy, and he pressed his face into the crook of his mate’s shoulder, trailing slow, soft kisses of gratitude into the tufts of fur up his neck.
But eventually, the doe’s hum began to fade and the hands on the demon’s arms slowed. Alastor’s own soft purring paused as a yawn rose out of him and the deer had to admit, keeping his own eyes open was proving to be a struggle.
His arms tightened protectively around his partner, nuzzling his face in Lucifer’s soft hair.
“Rest, my darling,” he murmured, his voice gentle and sleepy. His angel sighed deeply, and the buck could feel the other man relax against him, into him.
“You too,” the King said dreamily, and the sinner’s lips tugged upwards, pressing a tender kiss to the back of his doe’s head as he breathed in deep—inhaling the scent of water and earth that had seeped into his hair—before exhaling slowly, also allowing his muscles to ease and settle.
All around them, the chirping of the birds hushed to quiet lullaby, a warm breeze rustling the leaves and the grass, lulling them to sleep. The shadows surrounded them, guarding them from any unwelcome visitors to the wood.
And mere minutes later, the both of them were sound asleep.