☆Yuki the DiaLuci Guy☆

The turning.

It's when a human is bitten and turned into a vampire.

The process itself is much more tedious and difficult than most people believe. It's not an act to be willy-nilly done. Diavolo's coven is big; in fact, it's the largest and most ancient this kingdom has to offer. Most of the vampires of his coven were once human. It's still the most convenient way after all. Vampire births are few and far in-between due to their long lifespan.

And yet, the number of humans Diavolo has turned can be counted on one hand.

He prefers it that way.

"Good evening, Sire."

"I hope you rested well, Sire."

He has his hands quite full as it is with the huge coven, still, he makes time to check up on most of the people he passes. Not with words, but with the connection he shares with them. All of the vampires under him have tasted his blood once, which means they can share emotions through the unseen string connecting them.

He politely nods his head at those who greet him. He continues to do so with everyone he passes, he feels variations of joy-love-happiness-nervous-excited-reverence. He makes sure to spend a little extra time to calm-reassure-joy-hope any of his distressed people.

And when Diavolo feels that some of the vampires keep their mental barriers up high, he makes a bit of small talk. It's his duty as the head vampire to look after everyone, even if they shield their emotions from him. He wants all his coven members to be well-fed, content, and not causing any serious trouble.

He is on his way to an unruly vampire who had taken joy in feeding too much from unsuspecting humans after he had charmed them.

He sighs. Just thinking of the situation makes Diavolo's mind instinctively reach out for his true bond. But it remained silent from the other side. He sighs again, just a bit more exaggerated.

The reason his coven was able to grow this big and this old is solely because of the peace treaty he managed to strike with the humans. They have more than enough blood on their hands to feed the coven daily, and extras if they want more or even as a snack throughout the day.

If a vampire preferred fresh blood, they had more than enough donors to drink from. Carefully rotated so they had enough rest to heal and replenish, so none developed anaemia or an addiction to the vampire venom.

So when a vampire of his coven goes out of his way to harm humans who had not consented to feedings. It will only cause him more trouble and his assistants a bigger headache.

He opened the door of the vampire perhaps a bit harsher than he ought to. And even though the door creaked loudly under the pressure of his power, the vampire inside didn't even do as much as flinch.

"Asmodeus."

The man in question continued to file his nails for a few seconds more until he huffed out an annoyed breath and faced the older vampire. Asmodeus' face is the picture of perfect eternal beauty. Even now, as he frowns in annoyance, the rimple of his brow is more of a suggestion. "Hello, Sire."

Diavolo casually strides further in the room. He doesn't speak yet, instead, he prefers to reach out to their connected thread. As he suspected, he's met with a (fairly weak) mental block. The feeling of childish pettiness that leaked through is easy to feel. Diavolo leaves his mind open, to show the vampire he's not angry, just disappointed.

Me makes himself cosy on the hanging lounge chair hanging from Amso's ceiling. Meanwhile, Asmodeus continues to fuss and puff on his bed as he fights to keep Diavolo out of his mind. Diavolo doesn't even have to pry, he just needs to wait out the others' patience.

Which is even sooner than expected. "If you want to lock me up for misbehaving, it's not going to work. I'll break out and run away!" The young vampire hisses out at him. His anger-fury-embarrassment-fear spilling out only megaphone-ing his words.

In response, Diavolo crosses his arms and leans back further in the chair, which worryingly sways under his weight. "What gave you the impression I will do that?"

"You're clearly upset with me going out! "

Diavolo briefly pinches his bicep, calm-reassurance, don't let your annoyance be read. "No, Asmodeus. I am not upset with you going out. I am only concerned that your reckless behaviour with the humans-"

"See! You don't want me going out. You- you want me to be stuck inside all day, around all these old grumpy vampires! All they want is to read equally old and stuffy books, sip from a wine glass al day and sleep! Are you really going to punish me for having a life? For wanting to go out to the club and meet new people instead, whom I can indulge in the delicious high of lust! Maybe you should try that out— "

"What I am upset about, is you harming and drinking from innocent humans. Who were not aware you are a vampire. And not only that, you leave these weakened humans alone. As easy prey for other humans or vampires. That is what I am upset about. This will all tie back to our coven, our home."

He stands up to approach Asmodeus, who is now tightly gripping the bed sheets in worry-fear-anger-shame, strong enough it must be reaching— Worry-question-affection-reassurance-affection

It washes over Diavolo before he can even send anything to the brother himself. The message is not meant for him, he knows he only felt it by proximity alone. It must be hitting Asmodeus like a brick. The way he sinks into the mattress.

He decides to cut it short after all… "In any case, I will not be the person to carry out your punishment. Your sire will be the one to decide your fate, and I'm sure he will give quite the lecture anyway. I am only here to ask why you do not drink and… indulge with the donors we have at hand? Don't you have a favourite? Solomon was his name, right?" Still upset, despite the continued secondhand affection-calm-reassurance making Diavolo near dizzy with the intensity of it, Asmodeus crossed his arms and rolled over onto his side. Showing the older vampire his back. If it weren't for Diavolo's enchanted hearing, he would have missed the muffled words as the vampire started to rant.

Good humorously Diavolo shakes his head as the vampire continues to vent his frustrations. When the territory starts to fall into something more explicit, he decides to leave the man to his own devices.

"We'll speak more about this later. Until then, stay in your room until your sire, or I say otherwise."

He only opened the door when Asmodeus sat up and looked straight at him.

"Are you going to see Lucifer?"

The tone was so earnest it made him pause in front of the door. But he made sure to turn back, a sly smile on his face as he answered.

"Yes."

Perhaps he was walking through the coven's home much too eagerly. Many vampires greeted him. But he let their feelings brush past him. His own mental shield was strong in its place; they could not read these emotions.

He held on strong to the unintended link he felt earlier. Perhaps he should feel a shred of guilt for soaking in feelings not meant for him, but he cannot be bothered. He felt Lucifer's steady affection-affection for Asmodeus all the way until he took 10 steps outside of the room. He felt the question-suspicion sharply hit his brain until he felt Lucifer's barrier clamp shut. He must have felt Asmo's sudden switch of mood go into giddiness and then felt around, only to notice Diavolo had also been prodding around in their 'conversation'.

Unfortunately for him, Diavolo had already put his foot between the barrier and continued to follow his thread of emotions through the building. And oh, of course, Diavolo couldn't find him before. Lucifer had been in his own room for once. The older vampire had almost assumed the man didn't even know he still had one. With how often Lucifer is busy in his study at least.

No one trespasses on this hallway, hence why he allows his guards to lower and Lucifer to feel. The man most definitely knew Diavolo was coming already, and with the thrum of his affection so close nearby. He assumes it must almost be overwhelming for Lucifer. Hence the baffled-annoyance-fondness— before his barrier slammed down trice as hard, blocking him out.

Regardless, Diavolo easily opened Lucifer's bedroom door. And despite knowing there would be no interruptions, he twisted the door lock behind him.

"Hello, Lucifer."

The dark-haired man sat seated near his desk, an unruly stack of documents sprawled over the hardwood and nearly overflowing from his hands. Diavolo recognised the logo of a law firm on one of the papers, and he could only assume Lucifer was already cleaning the mess of his younger brother. And seeing the sheer amount of paper everywhere, perhaps of the other brothers too.

Unlike Asmodeus, Lucifer immediately turns to him, makes eye contact and nods in acknowledgement during his greeting, "Hello, Sire," before continuing to sort the papers held in his hands.

Diavolo barks out a rough-sounding laugh, one he doesn't try to hide. "Please refrain from calling anything that formal when it's just us two. You know I dislike my title being used by you."

Now in Lucifer's hand is a perfectly ordered stack of papers. He taps it on the table, once, twice, before sighing and placing it down on the sole place that is not a cluttered mess. He normally doesn't let his space become so disorganised, and a worry-love-question-reassure is sent without thought. He feels no reassurance in his headspace, but hears a smaller, fonder sigh he knows means the same thing.

"But you are my sire, Diavolo." Lucifer turns in his chair, his hands on his lap and his legs spread. He almost reads it as an invitation if Lucifer's eyes weren't filled with a glint of humour. "Or did you forget I was the human you turned?"

Diavolo fought every urge to come closer to his beloved, unsure what Lucifer was playing at. But he will do his best to adjust to the scene, seeing how he's in quite a good mood despite the misbehaving younger brothers.

He hummed in faux-response, making sure his eyes did not leave Lucifer as he walked over to a specially crafted cabinet where Lucifer stores his most exclusive wine. mischief-joy-love. Lucifer's biggest collection of blood-wine is in his study. But more finely aged wine, and his favourite, is safely stored in his room. A space reserved for the two of them.

All the bottles are neatly presented in rows, well cared for. He picks a bottle and a glass. Pouring a more-than-generous portion before popping the cap back on and reaching for a different bottle. He hears Lucifer sharply inhale a breath he does not need, which urges Diavolo to continue.

This bottle is different. Older. Even older than Lucifer. And that's exactly why he carefully cradles it in his arm as he draws back to Lucifer.

Lucifer's irises flash a bright shade of red as his gaze switches from the bottle to Diavolo. His face is devoid of a readable emotion. It does not discourage Diavolo, who happily hands Lucifer his glass. Love-mischief-reassurance. The vampire scoffs, but accepts nonetheless. Ears clearly perked to hear what his response to bait will be.

"How could I forget, when a piece of that memory is right here?" He readjusts his grip on the bottle. Holding it with one hand and with the gentleness you treat a lover, Diavolo wipes off some of the built-up dust on it with the other. Lucifer audibly gulps on his next swallow. "When you visited me and drank this wine, you expressed it was your favourite."

The label has long become illegible, the proof Lucifer has picked up this particular bottle countless times. "I bought as many as I could. Hoping you would return and keep visiting me. Even if it was solely for the wine."

"Truly an excessive amount it was. A human could not drink that much in their entire lifetime without dying of liver failure first." Lucifer's voice loses a bit of the pretend annoyance and falls into a softer tone. "There's still at least a dozen crates filled with those bottles. And vampires cannot consume normal wine. It was a waste of resources and space."

He places the bottle on the desk, right next to where Lucifer is sitting. The empty glass bottle clinks hollowly as it meets wood. Diavolo's fingers slide down until he grips the edge of the desk. The other takes a firm hold on the arm of the chair Lucifer has been sitting in the whole time. Caging the man in.

Diavolo leans near, close enough where he can whisper in his ear. Like he will tell a secret only known by the two.

"It's not a waste. After all. You drink a glass of the wine every hundred years, don't you? Even if the wine spoils in a stomach that can't digest it anymore. Even if it leaves you ill, bedridden even. You did not think I wouldn't notice such a perfect recurring opportunity that allows me to pamper you rotten each time?"

Lucifer's heart does not beat, his pale face cannot flush. Despite all this, Diavolo still gets the inkling Lucifer feels embarrassed by his callout. He takes another good swallow of his wine. He refuses to meet his eyes when the red-haired man draws back. Lucifer's arms, firmly crossed against his stomach. The minute twitch of his left eyebrow. His tells are quite adorable.

"Vampires are not immune to diseases. They can still fall ill at random. Especially vampires like me who meet far too many new people at each idiotic diplomatic meeting I must entertain with my presence."

Diavolo is the one who initiates, with his knuckles gently caressing the other's cold cheek and then gently cupping the side of his jaw. The two almost face to face.

"When you just turned, I simply couldn't allow you to know anything else beyond a life of luxury and pampering as I promised you. I hated seeing you in such agony as the transformation took place, and I couldn't offer you anything but my sire blood as comfort. But I wanted you to feel adored and cared for. The softest beds and blankets. The most glistening jewellery, whatever caught your eye during your fledgeling phase. And still I wish I did more, Lucifer."

The older vampire let his head dramatically tilt to the side, partially to hide his growing smile so Lucifer wouldn't get too upset by him, although he must be feeling the joy-humour-mischief as if it were his own. The wineglass still in his hand mildly trembled. "As soon as your new fangs were fully set in and your legs capable of walking around again… you left me all by myself. No more was the Lucifer who teethed at my neck-"

"You have proven your point sire, you can stop-"

"You rejected my gifts as a vampire, became independent once again. You didn't even want to cuddle with me anymore—"

"I said enough-!"

In a manner rather undignified for Lucifer, he yanks the hand off his face and stands up with such speed he almost knocks over Diavolo. The wineglass is put down with a tink. The empty bottle, which in the past had seen many exchanged words between human and vampire, returns to its rightful place in the cabinet. Lucifer doesn't check for scratches on the bottom; he knows Diavolo wouldn't ever dare devalue something so precious to him.

Lucifer's breathing has increased, a human habit he seemingly can't shake off when he feels strong emotions. Perhaps it's his love-love-love. Diavolo follows him, the abandoned wineglass in tow. he offers it back to Lucifer. He hesitates, one, two seconds before he wraps his wingers around the stem. Diavolo doesn't let go immediately.

He allowed Lucifer to gain a bit of his composure back. So he eyes the edge of the glass as he speaks. "You never allow me to spoil or indulge you anymore. Not since you've become the sire of your brothers. I've seen it, how busy you are with all your fledgelings. I don't desire to know how it feels to have six bonds to be connected to all the time. You are all I need, Lucifer."

Lucifer, who silently watches Diavolo untangle himself from the glass, in lieu of answering, downs the rest of the blood-wine in one go. Leaving the glass empty. Yet his gaze drops down to the last droplet, which he swirls at the bottom. His voice sounds lost in ponder.

"You spoil me plenty. Why did you pour only for me? That was quite unusual of you, Diavolo."

He laughs, the deep sound coming straight from his chest. Shifting Lucifer's attention sharply to the man. "Well, since you started all this 'sire' talk. I couldn't help but reminisce." Lucifer let out his own quieter, breathy laugh, knowing exactly what would be said next by the man now leaning against his desk.

"Oh, your blood was the sweetest I'd ever tasted, the flavour an explosion on my tongue." Diavolo slightly cocks his head, yet doesn't tear his eyes from the other. His look grows with hunger. "I fear no wine can compare nor satiate what my appetite desires…"

Just as Lucifer starts to formulate a response, Diavolo turns his back to him and confidently walks to his record player. He quickly flips through the records until he finds the vinyl plate he was looking for.

Lucifer, already quite curious about what the tanned man was up to, perked up when he heard slow classical music fill the room. This one is one of his favourites, perhaps that's why Diavolo knew to look through his recently played music stack instead.

After being satisfied by the music playing, he turns to walk back to him, however, Lucifer cannot think that the way he steps is suspicious. He places down the glass on the cabinet, to later be cleaned as he distrustingly eyes the taller man.

In a textbook-perfect image, Diavolo bends his back and extends a hand. His voice, dipped in a sinfully low octave, is anything but so. "Well then, as you claim me to be. As your sire, surely you won't deny me a dance then, my beloved Lucifer?"

".. of course I wouldn't, Diavolo." Eyes looking to the side, yet his hand perfectly lands in his without hesitation. It takes no effort to pull him close against his body. Finally, like an itch being scratched, his mind feels relieved. As he put the request out there, he took Lucifer into a languid waltz around the room

With the others' presence within close vicinity, he allows himself the human pleasure of breathing in. Lucifer's scent encompasses him, full of the wooden-earthy smelling cologne Lucifer adores wearing. The sweet tang of iron of his finished blood-wine. A uniquely human savoury scent that has nearly diminished after all these millennia... it almost makes him salivate on the spot.

His hunger must be quite present on his mind as Lucifer scoffs yet easily perfects each turn Diavolo leads him in. "What you hunger after and desire hasn't existed in ages. nor will it ever be within your reach again." He lets go with one arm so he can do the twirl as required of the dance of the song. Yet in an unexpected move, Lucifer doesn't get to finish the full spin. The other man presses him close. Lucifer's back to Diavolo's chest. Their arms still lay upon one another, as if their positioning isn't all wrong.

Diavolo's breath lands hotly just behind his ear. "What I desire is right here within my arms." Even if his move remains unfinished. Diavolo continues his swaying steps that go from side to side. "Won't you allow me a taste, love?"

Lucifer easily reverses his positioning after the older vampire was done speaking, facing him again. He spoke of hunger, yes, but he knows his sire, his Diavolo would never lie to him. So Lucifer dares to let his action speak and closes his eyes. The movement of tilting, baring his neck in a near instinctual manner, expecting the thrilling sensation of-

Of soft lips on his.

The action such a surprise that it leaves Lucifer bewildered enough that he accidentally drops all his guards.

The floodgates of love-adoration-lust-affection-respect-love-love would have knocked Diavolo off his feet if Lucifer had not moved in an instant to hold him even closer. As if the older vampire would even dare to do such a thing after the other finally opened up to him.

Gloved hands find their way in his red hair, pushing their faces impossibly closer. They don't need to surface for air. And yet Diavolo is addicted to the feeling of Lucifer's chest rapidly rising and falling against his. As Lucifer's feelings fiercely express what his body has been telling the older vampire all along, love-love-need-love.

And yet, even as their feelings and desires are so mutual in every way of the words, Lucifer pushes himself away. Still, Diavolo fears and completely tunes in to their bond, which he feel Lucifer is not closing him off from at all. He feels a shred of embarrassment amongst all the love.

As a lopsided grin formed on Diavolo's face, Lucifer had already turned around and away from him. "You are so, so horribly distracting and bothersome. I am supposed to be responding to the lawyers of the humans that my brother's-"

"Lucifer, do not lie to me. Was the kiss not what you wanted?"

"Yes, I want to finish this work as soon as possible so they do not pile up—"

A pair of muscled arms wrap around Lucifer's middle and enthusiastically pull him back to the middle of the room and Lucifer barely has time to bite off an "Cease this behaviour-" before he is dragged into a new song, a different waltz. This one slightly faster-paced. As they both twirl circles inside the decently sized bedroom, Diavolo gleefully laughs his heart out.

And despite Lucifer's best efforts to keep his brows set in a deep frown. His movements purposely stiff with 'displeasure', his freely spilling love-love-bewilderment-joy gave away any act he pretended to put up. In the end, he couldn't help but chuckle along to Diavolo's hearty laughter as the waltz progressed faster and faster. They spun, twirled, and dipped to their un-beating hearts' content.

Eventually, like all songs do, it ended. The two of them breathless from the exertion of the joy and dancing. Diavolo's face was resting against Lucifer's crown, taking a bit of extra time to refill the empty space in his lungs his laughter had aired out. And of course, to enjoy the faint scent of his beloved shampoo.

Lucifer, in turn, rests his head on the taller's shoulder. His arms peacefully resting around the other's middle. And truly, Diavolo would have been content with this, spending the rest of this night just held close. if he had not felt the low simmering anticipation-excitement-hope-lust that Lucifer hid at the back of his mind. It seems their play is not quite over yet.

Ever so tenderly, he kissed the spot his head had been resting at. The action immediately quieted Lucifer's breathing. He continued a steady path down and trailed his lips along the shell of Lucifer's ear as he huskily whispered his next words. "I saw you bare your neck before I kissed you. You wanted me to bite and feed from you, am I wrong, love?"

Diavolo anticipated another flustered reaction, but it seemed the tide changed. Lucifer drew back, meeting his heady gaze head-on.

"There's no use in feeding from me anymore. There's no nutrients in my blood. It will all be empty calories, it would be a useless endeavour to drink from me." A gloved hand made its way to his tanned face. A thumb carefully pressed against a plump lower lip, until the other's mouth opened just enough to expose an elongated fang to the other.

Lucifer's thumb trailed down further and further. And when his finger was pressed against an artery, there was no pulse beneath it. "Nor would my feeding from you be useful. I have not been a fledgeling for ages. Sire blood to me would be like regular vampire blood to you."

A larger hand places itself over the gloved one. Making it wrap just a little tighter around Diavolo's throat. "The act of eating does not always have to be for survival, Lucifer" A grin splits across the man's face, much to Lucifer's chagrin. "One can also eat for pleasure."

Lucifer's hand, which at best had been resting against the man's neck, became a firm grip. "Ridiculous, you're ridiculous."

Diavolo wanted to retort that he was making perfect sense. After all, Lucifer also loves to indulge in expertly crafted ancient blood wine, even after he had just fed. But the words never left his mouth as he felt his feet instinctively move as he was pushed backwards. He barely got two steps in before his heel kicked against the bed frame.

He allowed himself to be pushed down to sit on the very edge. As if Lucifer didn't want his bed sheets to be messed with. The hand wrapped around his throat left only for both hands to land on his shoulder as Lucifer situated himself on his lap.

Eager fingers, not Diavolo's, tugged at the tie that was withholding the sight of that gorgeous, unnaturally pale skin. It undid buttons as more cloth than necessary for a taste gets pushed out of the way.

As Lucifer continues to make himself cosy and comfortable on his lap. His neck, stretched and bared for him. Diavolo finally, finally allows himself to let go of the hunger he had been restraining. He feels it, how his sight gets sharper, his hearing more sensitive. His claws greedily attempt to kneed Lucifer's thighs, which were still under layers of cloth.

Lucifer too allows himself to let go of the reins, and his eyes mirror his own. Lucifer's red irises have been replaced by honey-golden yellow, his sclera the colour of freshly spilled human blood.

However, as Diacolo's pupils are thin pinpricks due to his hunger and focus, Lucifer's are blown wide in lust. It quite nearly makes him snap.

He makes their lips meet again, and again. He couldn't help but chase that faint taste of the wine he had picked for Lucifer to drink. It was like an appetiser before the meal, and the thought made him groan into the other man's mouth.

A similar sound left his beloved, and a hand was pressed against his nape, urging him down. He complied, a little.

Diavolo places a last deep kiss on his lips, letting his fangs scrape just the tiniest bit on the other's lip for Lucifer's earlier teasing. Then continues to trail butterfly kisses to the side all around his mouth and cheek until he decides on his last payback for all this chasing Lucifer let him do.

He continues to go sideways until he is in reach of Lucifer's earlobe, which he teasingly bites "You call me ridiculous, but you love me still"

In response, he gets a tired sigh, a loud tired sigh. The touch that had been trying to get him down lifts him again. They meet, in the softest, sweetest way so far today. "Yes, yes. I love you so much, my dearest." Lucifer doesn't allow the kiss to linger this way. As a sharp, daring pain sparks tingles down Diavolo's spine. A hint of red marks his lips "So hurry up and get it over with, so we can continue. Dammit."

He doesn't have to hear those words twice. His head dips the small distance to the neck Lucifer has been so sweetly baring for him this whole time… He peppers a few more kisses around the sensitive skin, just to hear which places make him gasp the loudest. As if Diavolo doesn't already know it's the spot with the eternal indent of his teeth.

Which is the exact spot he chooses to finally sink his fangs in.

Hands fly to his hair, grasping at strands as they hold him perfectly in place. As if he would be willing to leave as flavour and sensation burst on his tongue. He makes sure to swallow slowly. saver each raspy inhale of his lover above him on each suck.

He allows himself a few self-indulgent swallows of blood before he withdraws. Which earns a very frustrated huffing sound and the feeling of having his face pushed back again with a silent plea of continue the prideful vampire surely cannot voice out loud.

Despite the urging, he does not drink anymore. He had not been lying, he truly wanted a taste. And his taste buds are more than satisfied as he licks a small trickle of blood from the rapidly healing injury.

Yet his polite cleaning is in vain as he licks and kisses his way back up to Lucifer's lips. Smearing dark red all along its path. The near imperceptible salt taste of his skin mixing with the iron aftertaste of his blood into euphoria

Lucifer grunts as he gets to taste himself, but refuses to part from him for even a second. This kiss lasts long, longer than all of their other ones today. The sound of their mouth colliding makes wet noises that fill the room.

It's only when Lucifer gets a full-body shiver that they pause for a moment. Their foreheads resting against each other.

"I love you."

Lucifer breathes out, his eyes decidedly shut. Diavolo can easily imagine the bright pink blush that would have covered his face.

"I love you more, my dear."

And finally Diavolo gets to see the fangs he'd been secretly craving for all night.

"Do you now?"

Hands shuffle at his clothes, quite intending to shred them off if they do not hurry.

"Well, beloved… We can make the night last forever here in this room. If you're so sure you have me beat, take your time to show me your devotion."