Archive of Our Own

Alastor could sense it long before his Husker knocked on his door. It was the little side effect of their contract, though one that Alastor hadn't really experienced with anyone else. A small shudder in one’s spine felt by the other, or the sting of a bullet lodged in a shoulder.

And sometimes, desire.

Alastor rarely felt it on his own, and it seemed like such a frivolous thing anyway. But when he heard the knock, the heat in his stomach tightened like a ball. He even felt impatient, wondering why didn't Husker just throw open the door if he needed this so much.

Ah, he's rubbing off on me. Alastor relaxed his shoulders. The thought of Husker pathetically pawing at the door was also very soothing to him. It made him remember how the best things take time.

He gestured for a shadow to open wide the door, revealing a frazzled Husker who blinked at Alastor several times. His hat was missing and his fur was an unkempt mess. Nothing too unusual.

The heat in Alastor seemed to blossom at the sight of him. He paused for half a second, then moved on as if nothing earth-shattering had just occurred.

“Husker, you caught me just as I was about to retire for the night. What brings you here?” 

There was a flash of gold. Husker’s eyes narrowed. “You know why.”

Of course he knew why. It was just too entertaining to play the cat along.

Still, Husker rubbed his arm, then kicked the door shut, as if worried a passerby would overhear. “It’s not like I’d be here if I could just… take care of this myself. But this, whatever,” a brief wave of his hand at the invisible connection in the air between them, “It doesn’t exactly make it easy.”

No, Alastor had not experienced this with anyone else. At least, not to such an extent. He could tell when a soul under his thumb had expired, then regenerated once more, or even when they strayed too far to another territory, out of his hands.

Yet, with Husker, he could feel too much suddenly. The drunken man's own spirals of depression, his guttural anger, and the weaknesses of his demon form. Alastor had none such weaknesses. At the most, the expected season would only give him a minor headache that a brief nip of absinthe would fix right up.

But Husker, of course, became wholly submissive to it. He could hardly even look at most in the eye, and then the heat of his muddled brain would crawl across the chain and sink its very claws into Alastor.

He had always known that a simple solution would be to do away with the chain. Husker could be a free soul once again, and Alastor would never have to deal with such an unsightly problem invading his peace of mind. Because whatever was taking over Husker made him drawn to Alastor, all because of a little bind between them.

An impatient scuffle of pawed feet against the carpet. Alastor flicked an ear, preoccupied with fixing up his sleeves.

“You said I could come here if I…” Another pause. How cowardly he could be. As if this was their very first time.

Alastor carefully raised an eyebrow at Husker. He did so while he unbuttoned his jacket, his movements steady.

“So, are you asking for help?”

Oh, just how delightful it was to see Husker make such a face! The grumpy kitty turned away, trying to hide his pout, though there was truly no point to do so. The link between them vibrated, and he could feel every sigh, every internal groan of his little thrall.

“It's…just a lot this time.” Husker crossed his arms. His tail flicked behind him, impatient and irritated. “I can't get rid of it.”

We both know you’re not even trying.

If it had been anyone else, Alastor would have torn them to pieces over this. Throughout all his time in Hell—and even before—he’d mostly avoided such ordeals. Even Hell’s own twisted punishment of its sinners with these rutting seasons couldn’t have made him go so low.

His right antler shifted, the creak of bone against velvet. He waited until he calmed. Perhaps it was fortunate Husker was turned away now.

After he folded his jacket, draping it over his armchair, he walked towards Husker. He kept his hands behind his back, his grin always in place. He could see just the smallest of a shiver rush over the other’s shoulders. A quick flick of his ears. The change in his breathing. Alastor placed a finger over a suspender strap.

“What do we say?” he teased, removing the filter from his voice. Easier to whisper this way. To make his Husker unravel just a bit.

And of course, he did. Husker shook, his wings rustling as Alastor slowly slipped off a suspender strap before moving onto the other. A sigh left the kitty’s throat. 

“Boss, please get me off already.”

Alastor felt his eyebrow twitch. Always so blunt. 

Even so, he moved the strap down. “Good enough.”

He didn’t rush. For one thing, it was much more entertaining to draw it out, despite the faint thrumming inside his skull. He could also see how it frustrated Husker to no end. Wings just barely flapped against him, irritated, and a low, short growl from the throat.

He pressed a hand against Husker’s bare stomach, falling into a blanket of fur. Heat radiated off the skin beneath, and that touch was enough to calm the aching, needy soul in his hands.

Though not nearly enough.

“Come on, man,” Husker complained, though his voice was noticeably lower, noticeably out of breath. “I don’t want to do this song and dance again.”

“That’s a shame.” Alastor used his other hand to draw an invisible line down the curve of Husker’s back. He felt the tell-tale shiver. “You just sing so well.”

Then, he dragged that finger up, using his claw to part through fur. Slowly, gently. He waited.

It came then; a low, addictive sound. Husker was always so ashamed of his purring, how it could be felt through his body, how easily it could be induced from just a touch. But only in certain places, and only through Alastor’s hands.

Husker really should be thankful to him. Who else could pet him so well?

“M-mm, damn it,” Husker muttered. “Not fair.”

“I think it is,” Alastor answered, a small lift to his tone. But he’d be kind, already letting his other hand wander between Husker’s thighs. The heat from there was intense. It was a wonder his pet could even last this long.

Husker leaned against Alastor's chest, hissing through his teeth. The tension. The slow winding up of the cat’s spine. Almost exotic in its display.

He slowly dragged a finger against the underside of Husker's cock. His touch bumped across each spine. The resulting shiver made Alastor run a tongue over the sharp points of his teeth. He wouldn’t have bothered if Husker had the usual dull or mundane texture. But he felt the subtle sharpness of the barbs, their shape slightly curved, and how pressing them just so made the other demon give a soft moan.

A hand gripped his wrist, trying to dictate his movements. “Faster.”

“Ah ah, you will take what I offer,” Alastor chided. He tapped his thin fingers against the already hard cock, finding invisible patterns among the spines. “Or we can be done right here.”

“N-No, sorry. I’m sorry, just…” Husker swallowed. He let go of Alastor, though he made up for it by pressing his back even more against him. His wings closed in obediently, rushing against the material of Alastor’s shirt. “Please.”

It was hard for Alastor to resist such an earnest beg.

If there was a quickening of his pulse, or if he felt a sort of heat around his neck, encompassing and humid, Alastor didn’t pay any mind to it. Husker was just so…vocal about what he felt. It could fool another to think they felt the same way. Alastor encircled his fingers around the barbed cock slowly. There was a faint sharpness against his palm, but the spines gave way to the pressure of his grip. A small rhythm, one that built in frequency by each agonizing second. 

Husker let out a strangled gasp. His legs shook. His ears flicked. His voice was like a melody. Small moans and whines that he usually would dare not share in any way. “Fuck, why is it…so good already…?”

It’s because they had practice, of course.

Alastor still remembered the night Husker had bumbled around his home when this had all started. He had thought it just to be another drunken stupor, until he felt the strange warmth and tension around his own neck. He had not been fully wrong, as the ex-Overlord had nearly drunk himself to death to get rid of the oppressive heat. Just a constant litany from Husker, who whined so pitifully about his needs, about his very weakness. “It’s just so hot, it’s like I’m on fire,” he had said to Alastor then.

It only made sense to help him, just so they could move on. Just so Husker would stop moving around his home and breaking anything in sight due to clumsiness. Teleporting him away where he could get killed would just be an unnecessary risk.

He didn’t think about how easily the idea came to him, how he had pushed Husker to the wall, letting his shadows give him relief. Even after Husker came, he made sure to do it again, for good measure. That way, there would be no complaints.

Then, it happened again. And again. He was curious to use his hands. Curious to try kissing Husker during it. Curious to watch him tangle up his bedsheets, to see how long it could last.

Alastor’s migraines had been frequent lately. Just the memory of last time had him stroke Husker’s cock faster, hearing the sharp intake of breath again. He wondered if it would be quick this time, or if he could drag this out even more.

He then saw something in the corner of his eyes.

Husker’s tail waved around beside him, like a little toy begging to be played with. For a gambler, Husker’s tells were so easy to see. The tail rushed up Alastor’s leg, then twined around his waist, trying to touch him as much as it could.

Greedy.

Alastor smiled. He eyed the red flutter of the tail to his left, then quickly grasped it in his other hand.

Husker’s moan ended in a stutter. He half-turned his head. “W-What the hell are you doing with that?”

“It’s distracting me, my friend.” He rubbed a thumb over the fur, carefully moving up it to press against the base of those tail feathers. Always so soft, so pleasing.

There was a soft gasp, one he could barely hear. Oh, but he could feel it. “Fine, I’ll stop. Just, just let go.”

Alastor rubbed it again between thumb and forefinger. “You’re sensitive here.” How lacking of him to not realize this before.

“I’m not! I’m just not used to people touching it, alright?”

Alastor slid his finger up the tail, pressing the tip of his claw to part the fur. “Now, what is the point of lying to me?”

He always knew when his Husker was lying to him. Such as when he had promised he wouldn’t go to Alastor for this, and then breaking it again and again. How could Alastor ever relax when this happened? The only way was to fix it. And the only way to keep it interesting was to try and discover new things.

His lips hid within the fur on Husker’s neck as he continued to touch both tail and cock, his hands deft and practiced. It wasn’t that different from playing piano keys, if one was creative. He saw the flush grow over the white fur of Husker’s face, watching him pant as Alastor continued to touch him in ways no one else could.

So he pulled on Husker’s tail, grasping the end firmly in his palm. He watched the fur stand up along its length, across Husker’s back. A small arch, followed by a gasp.

“Ah!”

Husker so loved a little degradation, didn’t he?

“I meant to discipline, but it seems I’m only rewarding you.” Another soft tug while Husker shivered. The feathers at the end of his tail rustled against Alastor’s fingers. “I’ll keep this in mind.”

Alastor started to feel a bit greedy himself. He pressed a soft kiss over Husker’s neck, feeling the tickle of the fur. It didn’t sate him, not with how much he wanted to sink his fangs into the flesh instead. But for Husker, it was enough to change the rhythm.

“A-Alastor…” he had whispered, shutting his eyes tight. All because of a barely-felt kiss.

That was what made this so peculiar.

“If you want something more, then just say it.” He kept his voice steady, even with the sizzle of static lacing his tone now. “I can’t always read your mind.”

Even though he felt like he had never been on such an exact wavelength with someone until now.

“Mm, fuck, fine, can you, just… kiss me or something? Just…” An embarrassed pause. The shivers along his tail. Husker shook his head. “Fuck, never mind—”

Alastor wouldn’t hear it. With Husker’s tail still in his palm, winding it around his knuckles like a chain, he reached up to grip the other’s chin. Just enough so he could kiss him deeply, to feel Husker’s shaky moans reverberate inside his mouth. Wet and hot, the taste of rye still there on Husker’s tongue. He drank in the sounds as the body he played with became weaker by each moment.

“Next time, don’t make me wait,” Alastor threatened, before he thrusted his tongue deeper into Husker’s mouth. A brief choke, but he felt lips wrap around his tongue, sucking on it desperately, all while hips jutted into his hand.

Any longer and he was sure Husker would collapse from the heat of it all. So he quickly moved him to the bed, laying him on his back. Lips briefly separated before Alastor kissed him again, wrapping his tongue over Husker’s own.

“Ah, f-fuck! It’s…so hot…” And it was hard to tell if Husker meant this literally, with the way his fur was already matted with sweat, and how his face was flushed. But he gazed up at Alastor with half-lidded eyes, reaching for his tongue, trying to taste it as much as he could, like a man dying of thirst.

Oh, so he liked this.

Now as he laid over Husker, he could see more of the way his body reacted with each of his touches. A quick squeeze over his cock made Husker arch his back, reaching up further for Alastor’s mouth. But with the way his cock leaked, coating it in slickness that made it shine, Alastor couldn’t help but want to try something else.

Routine was always so boring, and how he loved trying something new.

He moved away from Husker, who blinked up in confusion. Hands left his body, to instead place themselves on the bed. He could tell that his kitty didn’t like that. How cute.

“The hell? I didn’t finish—”

“You’re so impatient,” Alastor said, then stuck out his tongue. At first as a tease, until it lengthened, like the coils of a snake. Husker’s eyes widened, watching him, wanting him. Husker’s cock was still hard. Throbbing for release.

Alastor extended his tongue to wrap around his cock, pricking against spines, tasting salt. He did it suddenly, so he could watch Husker flinch as if he’d been bitten. The demon’s back stiffened, his head throwing back another gasp. That look of surprise instantly changed.

“Ah! Oh, oh my god, it’s…”

What was on Husker’s very face was ecstasy. The way he clung to the sheets beneath him. How his legs shivered as Alastor’s tongue dragged along his cock. A sharp gasp, a flinch of his wings.

Alastor then slowed his pace, encircling that cock slowly, rushing over every spine. He was already growing somewhat addicted to the taste.

“Fuck, it’s good. It’s good, don’t stop, please…”

How nice of him to remember to beg.

Alastor had played with the idea of leaving Husker a little more wanting, keeping him hard and just so close to the edge of climax. But the sight of him writhing on Alastor’s bed…did something to him. His tongue squeezed tightly over the cock, sliding up again to lick at the slit where Husker continued to pour out pre-cum at every stroke. His pet was out of breath, his claws raking through the bed sheets, ripping through the soft velvet as he continued to moan and gasp.

It was too intoxicating to just stop now. How much more could he push him? And the texture, the taste, made Alastor want to keep going. He only wanted to see.

Husker licked his lips, watching Alastor continue working his tongue over him. Another shudder, his wings flapping slightly. His right foot slid up on the bed, unable to find relief just yet. Not just yet…

He’s so tempting.

It really was such a temptation to just taste more than cum, wanting to swallow the hot blood rushing through Husker’s cock. So, it was with great self-restraint when he took it in his mouth. His tongue still wrapped around it, his teeth barely grazing over it. But it was what made Husker moan so loudly suddenly, how he thrusted into Alastor’s mouth as if he was demanding him to devour him whole.

Again, so very tempting.

“God, fuck, Alastor… Alastor!!”

He noticed the signs before Husker would climax. The way his lips would twitch, how his right ear would flick, and, if he was really so desperate, how he’d salivate as if he lost control of all his senses. Alastor counted each sign before he felt hot cum coat his tongue, moving smoothly into his throat like malt liquor. Something akin to a sob left Husker’s throat. Another lovely melody to Alastor’s ears as he licked up what he could, letting the rest fall against Husker’s thighs.

And. He would’ve been done there, as they always would. Husker would lay exhausted before he would fill up with shame and scuttle away. He would do so, unmindful of what he did. Careless at how his little heat spell was as infectious as anything else.

Then, Husker grasped at his arm, his claws clinging to the shirt sleeve. It made Alastor stop, and as he gazed at Husker, he only then noticed the shadow of his antlers silhouetted on his bed. How it cut through the white and black of Husker’s face. 

Only now did he feel their weight.

“Don’t… go yet,” Husker was saying, still trying to catch his breath. “I…I still feel…”

He was covered in sweat, in his own mess, his wings looking like a tattered cape beneath him. Yet, somehow, it only invited Alastor to look at him more, to want to get closer. 

He wanted to get closer.

Alastor didn’t wait for Husker to continue begging, or plead, or order, or anything. He already found his hands grasp at Husker’s face, bringing him up slightly as he kissed him once more. Rushed. Messy. Just unseemly. Both their teeth clashed, his tongue moving deeper into Husker’s mouth, sharing with him any cum that was left. The moan from beneath vibrated into his mouth, diving into his chest, clutching at it so tightly. 

He felt the grip of claws on his shoulders—Husker bringing him closer, closer, to kiss him more, to grind against his hips, to get his mess all over his clothes. Alastor gripped Husker’s face even tighter, but it only seemed to intensify the passion that had suddenly ignited between them.

Alastor was beginning to lose his breath.

“Please, Al, I need more,” Husker was whispering, groaning against Alastor’s lips. His hips pressed upwards, his tail wrapping around the other’s waist. Oh, he really was such a greedy thing. “It just keeps feeling hotter, I can’t think…”

“You’re pushing it, my friend,” Alastor tried to chide. But, he thought he heard something in his voice. Something that trembled, like a wavering of a violin string. “Is what I give you not enough?”

Yet, even with that, Alastor felt more than just his voice betray him. Husker was grinding so, so much into him. His cock pressed hard, being so needy. It created this shockingly sweet pressure, one that Alastor found himself responding to. His hips moved, matching in rhythm.

Just what was his pet doing to him? And why did he want it so much?

Husker struggled to talk, but laced his fingers together over Alastor’s back. He licked at Alastor’s lips, panting more and more.

“I don’t…know. God, it’s so hard to think. I just- I just need more!” A soft exclamation, one he breathed into Alastor’s mouth, moaning so pitifully. “I…I need to be fucked. I want you to fuck me. It’s so damn hot, I feel like I’m dying.”

Those words traveled down Alastor’s throat, coiling in his chest, then down into the pit of his stomach. He felt a familiar ache in his head, one that pulsed so sharply, making him see stars for a brief second.

Their grinding didn’t stop. It was going to ruin his clothes even more, so he only unbuttoned his pants to avoid that mishap. But he kept going, enough to let his cock slip out, sliding against Husker’s own.

The sensation made his teeth shake inside his skull. His vision was getting hazy. But Husker’s moan at the touch was as clear as ever.

“That’s a mistake,” Alastor hissed. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. The barbs of Husker’s cock scratched against his own and the pain was exquisite. A sound left his throat, but Husker swallowed it all, still begging for more and more, even as they kissed, even as Alastor gave him everything he had at this moment.

“Please fuck me, I can’t take it.” A yearning gasp. “Al…”

How hard it was to even think straight, surrounded by Husker’s pleas, by his heated noises, by the way he kept seeking Alastor’s tongue to suck on. It was practically obscene, and how Husker was trying to sink him down to his very level. This was a mistake, because he knew it wouldn’t be enough. He could already feel Husker coming again, that hot slickness draping over his own cock. 

It wasn’t enough because he wasn’t done.

Alastor reached down to grip at Husker’s right thigh, moving it aside. Thick, white strands stuck to fur, slid to the bedsheets. But he couldn’t even take a moment to appreciate the scene before him, lining up his cock just at the base of Husker’s still frantically waving tail.

“I know what you’ve been trying to do all this time, dear friend.”

Alastor wasn’t a fool. His Husker would have known, after so many years spent in Hell. When his little rutting season would start, and what solutions he could’ve done for it. No ex-Overlord would have been stupid enough to stumble into his house while in heat.

Not unless he wanted it.

Husker blinked up at him, a film of confusion over his eyes that briefly replaced the lust. “W-what?”

“Don’t act so coy now! I don’t appreciate it.” Alastor felt his hold on his magic loosening. The weight of his antlers grew heavier. His lungs burned from the lack of air. “All this time, you’ve been doing all you could to try and use me!”

The nerve of his pet to widen his eyes at the accusation, as if this was something completely new to him!

“But, I didn’t—”

Alastor could not resist, even after years of resistance and disdain. Decades. All of that, just to crumble at the sight of another. He pushed his cock inside his Husker, engulfed by the instant warmth and tightness. A groan, textured by static, left his throat, hanging in the air between them.

Husker nearly shouted at Alastor’s motion, a brief cry of pain before it devolved to his constant moaning. Another thrust, and Husker was all but begging for more as Alastor continued to relentlessly fuck him. “Oh my fucking god, yes, more, more, please.”

“You ask for so much.” The words came out bitter, but his body obliged by thrusting in and out of Husker, already building up a friction he was barely prepared for. “That’s why you lost at our little game, didn’t you? You knew this would happen. All for your own sick little perversion.”

“I… D-Damn it.” Husker was still clinging to Alastor like he was supplicating himself to the demon. But no, Alastor wouldn’t be fooled. “I didn’t… I didn’t know! It’s… never happened…before…”

“Such a liar,” Alastor said softly, a tight grin on his face. All as he continued fucking the mewling soul beneath him, never wanting to stop. “Even now, after I’ve given you everything you’ve asked. You truly are a bastard.”

Husker could barely respond, only giving sighs and moans at every hard thrust. But he didn’t try to move away. No, of course he wouldn’t. He simply let his hips match the rhythm of Alastor’s, letting him reach deeper and deeper into him. For a few minutes, even Alastor could barely say anything, so focused on needing to fuck Husker. He needed to fuck him, or he would die from the unbearable heat of it.

Perhaps he would do it long after Husker begged him to stop.

“Mm, just… losing to you… was the worst day of my life,” Husker finally panted out, still clinging to Alastor’s shoulders. “And if… it’s because of fucking this.” He strained his neck, at the invisible manacle that would always be felt, at the chain that Alastor would always wind around his wrist. “You…could have just…let me go!”

Ungrateful.

Alastor used his hand to grip Husker’s waist, digging his claws into the fur, and pulling him closer. So much so that his cock would hit nerves, pleasure and pain mingling together. He watched how his length disappeared inside in even strokes. Husker threw his head back, but still never let Alastor go.

He was offering.

Alastor took it gladly, bending down to run his tongue over Husker’s neck, tasting fur and skin, magic and metal. It was so hot to the touch, it nearly scalded his tongue. His fangs grazed over skin, drawing blood, and he knew it would make Husker come again.

“You know I could never do that,” Alastor answered, realizing he was near an end to something shattering. “You belong to me now.”

Maybe he wanted Husker to fight one last time, but instead he took in Alastor’s length with another shudder, reaching up to kiss him. Mouths crashed, moans and sighs muffled only to be swallowed away into the dark. Yet his words were still so clear.

“You’re the only liar here.” For a moment, Husker grinned, even as he looked a complete mess. “This goes…both ways. Your thoughts aren’t so fucking secret. I’ve been hearing you wanting me all damn night.”

He couldn’t stem this weakness. It had been living inside him all this time.

Alastor finally spilled all he had inside Husker, his Husker, a stuttered groan leaving his throat. All the while, Husker panted, whispering nonsense all during the climax.

“Fucking hell, there’s a lot…God, it’s so hot.” Husker bit his lip, his chest streaked with white from his own mess. “Alastor…”

Everything was loose. His hands trembled, still refusing to pull out, even as he felt it all drip out. He breathed against Husker’s mouth, a tightness in his voice.

“Don’t think I’m done.” Soft, dark laughter fell over them, binding them close. “As I said before, Husker, this is a mistake.”

And who knew that better than the both of them?