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The yellow-eyed demon roamed the vast halls of Hell to try to clear his mind. Under any other conditions, he would be on the surface carrying out Lucifer’s plans to free himself from the cage; however, due to a small unforeseen circumstance, he was stuck ruling Hell for the time being. Azazel sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he wandered, hearing the faint crackle of hellfire and the not so faint screams of whoever had the misfortune of being exorcised or sent to Hell. Azazel started peeking into the torture chambers out of curiosity, sometimes startling the other demons in the rooms before quickly moving on. If he was the current ruler of Hell he might as well glance at his underlings from time to time.

“I haven’t been down this way in a while,” he said to himself, aimlessly wandering the halls once again. Eventually, the yellow-eyed demon wandered into a section of Hell that seemed hotter than what he was previously used to. He heard more screams than before. They were louder, carried more anguish. He heard… talking? Azazel walked towards the room and pressed his ear against the door. It sounded like there were at least two demons in the room, maybe three considering that the screams had turned into soft whimpers. He heard a male voice explaining various types of tools, mainly razors and scalpels, and how effective each was. He had heard of a demon like this. It seemed like Hell’s Grand Torturer had an apprentice. How enticing. How terrifying. Perhaps he could drop in on the lesson without being spotted. After all, anyone lucky enough to be an apprentice to Alastair must have been an interesting soul. Azazel pushed the door open and was quickly greeted by a razor flying towards him before he quickly caught it.

“It’s nice to see you too,” he smirked, setting the razor down on the table from where it had come from. He closed the door and casually leaned against it while crossing his arms over his chest. The white-eyed demon turned to look at him and smiled.

"Apologies for the throw, but you really should knock," Alastair chuckled, handing one of the razors to the blonde demon in the room to let her do as she pleased with her subject. Azazel made eye contact with the girl, noting what she looked like for later. She looked to be strong and could be vital to him. As the girl got to work the two other demons slipped out of the room, the sounds of agony quickly filling the void as the two began to chat.

"What brought you down this way? I assumed you'd be up on the surface with the other Princes."

Azazel thought for a moment, trying to come up with a better excuse than wandering.

"Well, you know how loyal I am to Father, and since the others left I thought I'd at least become familiar with the areas of Hell I hadn't been to in a while." He smiled, embracing the familiar feeling of talking to Alastair. He might not admit it out loud, but the other demon carried an aura that screamed of passion for his work. He knew the other's reputation well and was not about to find out how creative the other could be. It seemed that Alastair bought his excuse, nodding his head in understanding.

"I'm sure you saw my little apprentice, she's coming along well if I say so myself," Alastair smiled proudly, "You wouldn't believe it if you saw it, but she hasn't been training for long. Maybe four months if we're going by Earth's time."

"If anyone could teach another demon in the art of torture that fast it would be you." The other chuckled at that. He was talking like a proud father. "So, what's her story?"

Alastair cocked an eyebrow at Azazel and then shrugged. "I'm not sure, she never really disclosed that. Just asked for me to train her one day and I accepted. She's currently looking at a meatsuit named Meg Masters, that's who she looks like right now at least..." He continued to ramble on while Azazel listened. He didn't want to admit it, but the other's voice was calming to him. It made Hell's heat seem a little more bearable. It seemed to drown out the screams of the damned behind them.

"Did you take a liking to her Yellow Eyes?" He joked. Azazel thought it over. Had he taken a liking to her? Perhaps, but not in the way Alastair was implying. No, this was more of a... parental approach to her. "Wait, are you seriously considering going after my apprentice?" Alastair questioned, which Azazel quickly answered.

"No, if anything I'd consider her a daughter." He smiled at the thought, weaving his way through now familiar halls. "Do you have a set time to when you have to be back with her?"

"No, she'll be fine on her own. Unless you'd like to watch her work."

"Perhaps another time, I know you aren't usually one to get away from your work for long so I don't want to-"

"Watching you struggle to deceive me is much more fun." Alastair interrupted him, smiling. "Now, what was the real reason you came down my way?"

"I was going for a walk and just so happened to wander into one of your rooms, that's all." Azazel cursed at himself for letting his guard slip. Then again, he knew it wouldn't have taken long. Alastair was an old friend and rarely forgets what makes others tick. They continued to roam the vastness of Hell in silence for the most part. The occasional comment was made on how the other was doing, plans for when Lucifer would be freed, if either ever had plans to return to the surface. Azazel knew he would have to go up eventually due to the need for more special-children to be made for potential vessels. Perhaps he could wait for a bit though. Perhaps he could take a few more walks with Alastair, get to know him all over again. He might even be able to get the approval from the girl- no, from Meg to be his daughter. He'd have to get closer to Alastair first though. He walked the other back to his designated room, waving at Meg once he saw her and smiled at her small wave back. Alastair thanked him, shut the door, and turned to see Meg's work as Azazel made his way back the way he came.

"Sir, who was that?" Meg asked while cleaning up and sharpening the tools she had used for later.

"An old friend of mine, expect to see him around a lot more." Alastair smiled, turning away from her to examine what she had done to her latest victim.

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Their walks had been going on for two months, around twenty years in Earth time. Azazel and Alastair had gotten quite close during this time, mostly to pass time and allow Meg to learn her own little techniques for torture. The two began to run out of things to talk about a few days ago, though Azazel mainly asked how the other’s pupil was doing. She had been absorbing everything Alastair would teach her, he expected that she may become as skilled as her teacher one day. Then they’d continue in silence before the two would go back to examine Meg’s work. The girl would smile at Alastair’s praises and nod at his critiques while Azazel would stand by, examining the two.

He had popped out of Hell a few times to finish off some deals, scorching a few mothers who had ignored his warning. He watched the husband and sons of his last stop as the man glared back at Azazel. There was wrath in those eyes. Azazel smiled, slipping away from the scene of his crime and back into the familiar heat of hellfire. He quickly made his way towards Alastair's chambers, still smiling from the man's gaze. John Winchester, if he remembered correctly. A man who never knew what his wife had hidden up her sleeves. However, now was not the time to think about this, this was reserved for Alastair.

"You look amused," the torturer said with a smile, walking over to Azazel to look him over.

"Just finished my end of a few deals," Azazel smiled back, looking down a bit to greet Alastair as well as Meg. She smiled and waved at him, setting down her weapon of choice to walk over to the two. Alastair smirked, moving out of her way as she approached.

"Hello sir, I don't think we've ever introduced ourselves," she started, looking at Azazel's eyes, "I'm Meg."

"I know, Alastair talks about you a lot. I'm Azazel," he smirked, extending his hand towards her. She carefully shook the other's hand, glancing over at her teacher.

"Azazel? You're a Prince of Hell?" She asked with confusion as she leaned in closer to the other. "What does he say about me?"

Azazel nodded and leaned towards her in return. "All good things my dear," he mused, slipping his hand out of hers as not to burn her. Due to his pyrokinesis ol' Yellow Eyes could get pretty hot and he didn't want to burn a potential servant of his on their first official meeting. She smiled softly, stepping back to allow Alastair to take her place.

"Is it time for our walk already?" He chuckled, starting to walk out of the room. Azazel snickered, following him as he closed the door, leaving Meg in the room with her latest subject. She collected the tools that she had used on the poor sinner that was sent to her and started to clean them as she let her mind wander.

"How long do you think it'll be until they get together Tom?" She asked him absentmindedly. He responded with a groan as he shrugged.

"Why do you care?" He asked casually as he watched his torturer clean up the tools for later.

"Alastair's mood changes after their walks, he's more creative. More energetic. He was never that way before. Not like you would know." She squinted at him, digging a few of her nails into the wounds closest to her. After Tom had stopped reacting to the pain, he looked up at Meg and smirked.

"I think he's taken interest in you too, but not the same way he's taken interest in Alastair." He chuckled as she walked away from him.

"Perhaps he has, perhaps he hasn't. But he'll be around me more than you~" she giggled, putting her weapons away and pulling out Alastair's. He'd be back eventually and it had been a while since the torturer had… performed, for a lack of a better phrase. Meg got lost in her thoughts as she suddenly realised that her teacher had connections with a Prince of Hell and that the Prince of Hell might be pursuing her teacher. On another note, the two in question had been talking for a bit about the two demons they had left behind.

"She's doing well, Tom is a good subject for her. He's snarky, sarcastic, gets her riled up. You don't know how fun it is!" Alastair smiled down at Azazel with passion. It was a beautiful sight to see. The slight light in the torturer's eyes as he talked about his job in Hell was a sight that only a few could behold. Alastair was letting his guard down. He might as well pop his question while the other is in a good mood.

“Would you mind if the girl and I took a walk one day?” the Prince of Hell asked as he and Alastair were walking back to his latest test subject. Alastair tilted his head a bit in confusion before nodding.

“Sure, why not. She might as well get to see the rest of Hell." He shifted a bit closer to Azazel, trying to figure out what he was up to.

"If you want her as your pupil I have no objections. Well, that might be an overstatement. I have a few objections." He smirked.

"Actually, I was considering taking her under my wings as more of a daughter. She didn't seem to know much about me, other than my status as-"

"I talk about you to her as much as I talk about her to you. She's good at keeping secrets," Alastair interrupted, turning his head away from the other as he said this. Azazel was taken aback a bit, but smiled at his friend.

"What have you told her?" He joked, watching the other smile out of embarrassment. The tops of Alastair's ears turned a light pink as he told Azazel mostly everything he had mentioned to Meg. Azazel smiled softly, watching the white-eyed demon become embarrassed. Alastair quickly composed himself by clearing his throat. He fiddled with his shirt and glanced down at Azazel.

“Sorry, I’m not usually like this, as you know,” the torturer This was something ol’ Yellow Eyes could get behind. Alastair was, in his own way, cute. He was also terrifying but maybe that was part of the appeal. Not many demons in Hell were given respect by the higher-ups, let alone were feared by them. Alastair had managed to do both, so much so that new demons would learn about him within a few moments of being in Hell. If they were lucky, they'd never get to meet him. Fortunately, a lucky demon was unheard of. Most of them would get to meet someone truly passionate about their line of work. Someone who enjoyed torturing others. Someone who… was staring right at Azazel with milky white eyes. Interesting. They looked beautiful. The two never really showed their eyes around each other due to already having a notable reputation. Seeing them in person was so much different than hearing about them. He flicked his eyes to their fiery yellow and gazed into the other's with a soft smile on his face. Alastair returned the smile and leaned down slightly to see the other's eyes.

"Comfortable are we?" Azazel joked as he tilted his head up for his friend to get a better view. The other nodded casually, turning to face away from him.

"I should get back to Meg, we've been gone for long enough today," Alastair said as he began to walk away. Azazel hurried to walk next to the other, inadvertently standing closer than before. They continued their walk back in silence, but neither hid their eyes from the other. There was no reason to. As they approached the familiar room Azazel spoke up.

"Would you mind showing your eyes more often?" He cringed at the question and prepared for the rejection that would follow.

"That depends, are you going to show yours too?" He could hear the smile as Alastair spoke.

"Of course, did you expect your milky whites to be the only ones on display?"

"Don't… don't call them that," he chuckled while the Prince of Hell laughed at his own comment. He stepped into the room, his white eyes slipping away to reveal the blue eyes of some man upstairs. Azazel let his eyes be seen by Meg, who smiled as hers flickered black for a brief moment, Tod doing the same.

"See you tomorrow, same time, same place Alastair?" Azazel smirked, leaning against the doorway of the room.

"Of course Azazel," Alastair responded as he picked up some of his tools, thanking Meg for bringing them out before getting to work. Azazel waved goodbye to Meg and smirked at Tom. Perhaps he'd take Tom under his wings as well. He walked back down the halls of Hell towards the throne room, smiling as he sat down on his father's throne. Maybe there was more to Alastair than met the eyes. Or perhaps, he was toying with Azazel. If the Prince was being honest, he didn't care either way. Alastair was letting his guard around him, and that was all that mattered to him.

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Azazel walked down the familiar hallways, his hand gliding over the pattern on the walls as he took quick steps. He had been thinking over how to ask Meg to become his subordinate. Of course if she wanted to keep training under Alastair he wouldn't stop her, but he would at least try to negotiate. Deals were never his best skill but he could pull them off if he needed to. As he reached the room he saw Meg standing outside of the door with a worried look on her face. He hurried towards her and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Everything alright kid?" He asked calmly. She didn't look up at him and just shrugged in response. "Is it Al?" She nodded.

"He's having an… episode if you will…" She said quietly, trying to hide the shakiness of her voice. Azazel raised an eyebrow and pressed his ear to the door. Silence. Not even Alastair's pacing or humming he would usually hear when approaching the room. Total silence. Azazel motioned for Meg to get behind him as he gently opened the door. He didn't even get it open enough to see into the room before a razor was flying into it.

"Stay out here kid." He ordered as he opened the door and slipped into the room. Various tools flew past him to end up landing in the wall and door. Alastair was laying on the table in the middle of the room with his right arm over his eyes. He looked like he was sleeping, but if that were the case then the various tools that had flown at him would be nearly tucked away. Something, or someone had pissed Alastair off and Azazel may have stumbled into a less than satisfactory circumstance. Against his better judgement, Azazel walked to the top of the table so he could lean over the other. He tapped the palm of Alastair's right hand and, as expected, was greeted with a not-so-kind razor flying at him. That might as well be the torturer's greeting for him. He quickly moved out of the way and placed his hands on the table on each side of Alastair's head.

"Well aren't you just a little ball of grace today," he joked, watching the other frown slightly.

"Hello Yellow Eyes." Alastair grumbled, moving his arm so he could look at the other. "I suppose you're here for our routine walk."

"It doesn't look like you're up for it today Al, we can skip today if you're pissed," he smiled down at the other. "So, what's got your accuracy in a bind today? You missed me each time."

"Incompetent students, resistant research subjects, Meg's transfer, Tom's escape…" he listed a few other things before Azazel interrupted him.

"Meg's transfer? Tom's escape? What happened Alastair?" He asked with concern lacing his eyes as they unconsciously shifted into their fiery yellow hue. Alastair blinked to show his white eyes as he explained.

"Meg is being sent to a different part of Hell, someone in the higher ups thinks she got off easy. As for Tom, he wasn't here when I came in and Meg claims not to know where he is." He looked up at Azazel, who was still leaning on the table. "Does that clear everything up my dearest Prince?" Alastair's sarcasm was brushed off as the Prince in question nodded softly.

“I’m guessing you don’t know who sent out the order?” Of course he wouldn’t. Alastair was most likely told about this through the higher up’s right hand man. “Well, I highly doubt the demon that issued the transfer is higher than my current position. The only one that's higher than me is trapped in a cage or stuck in her chambers”

The torturer raised an eyebrow at the statement. Almost every demon knew that Lucifer was stuck up in his cage, but very few knew if Lilith's chamber. He sat up and turned to face his friend, resting his arm on his knee.

“What do you have in mind, Yellow Eyes?” he smiled out of curiosity, his head tilting a bit to the side as he listened to the Prince.

“Well, since I’m the current ruler of Hell I’d assume that I’d be able to overrule the transfer. On the other hand, Tom would still have to finish his sentence once he’s found.” Azazel smiled softly as he looked to Alastair for approval. “What do you think?”

“What am I, your advisor?” The two chuckled as Alastair nodded. “That sounds like a good plan, it might work, especially to your benefit.”

Azazel cocked his head to the side and glanced at the door. He couldn’t tell if Meg had left the two alone or if she had been listening in on their conversation. He blushed slightly out of embarrassment if the latter were the case. He smiled softly.
“I would have to ask her to be one of my underlings.” His smile grew. It would benefit all of them, but mostly him.

“You would, but what to do about little Tom?” The white-eyed demon smirked and was swinging his legs out of excitement and curiosity.

"I'm not sure yet, if he's upstairs then someone would either have to track him down or wait for him to get sent to the pit." Azazel tapped his fingers on the table before standing up straight. "Care to walk with me?"

Alastair nodded and hopped off of the table, joining the other by his side. Yellow Eyes opened the door and motioned for Alastair to walk out before joining him and closing the door. Meg was crouched against the wall, an anxious look on her face. She didn't notice them at first, it seemed like she was absorbed in her own thoughts. Azazel cleared his throat to get her attention and surprisingly this worked. She quickly got up and looked at the two before fixing her gaze on Alastair.

"What's that face for kid?" The Prince asked worriedly. If she was going to be his underling then he might as well be concerned for her.

"I overheard bits and pieces and… is it true? Am I being transferred?" The two could sense the panic in her voice despite it being mostly hidden. That was something the young demon was good at, hiding her true feelings. Azazel and Alastair exchanged a glance before nodding. Meg nodded in acknowledgement and smiled softly.

"Well, how long do I-"

"Would you like to join me, Meg?" Azazel interrupted before she could continue. She stood there a bit shocked, still processing the question.

"Join you?" She asked softly, almost cautiously as she exchanged quick glances between the two demons in front of her. One her current mentor, the other the current ruler of Hell.

"Yes, would you like to join me? You could still continue to work with Al if you'd like, but I think it would benefit all of us if you joined me as well." Azazel smiled, hoping it would help ease Meg's worry.

"I'll join you under one condition."

"Alright, what is it?"

Meg flicked her eyes to black as she stared determinedly into Azazel's eyes and extended her hand.

"Tom comes with me."

He smirked and took her hand in his own to shake it.

"Of course, my child."

The two smiled and went their separate ways, Azazel with Alastair in tow and Meg on her own. The two older demons glanced over their shoulders to see if she had gone and looked at each other knowingly. She was going to tell Tom about the arrangement.

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Heyo!! A new chapter should be up soon, I'm trying not to make it too corny nor too horny y'know. We're saving that for later 👀

Chapter Text

Azazel sat on his throne with a look of boredom on his face. Alastair and Meg had been cooped up with their studies so she would be able to join Azazel sooner rather than later. As expected, Tom’s sentence was extended due to his escape. Yellow eyes had considered touring Lucifer’s crypts, but he’d rather tour them with Meg to get some bonding between them. The Prince sighed, playing with some of his fire to keep himself entertained. He smiled at his pretty flames and made them spiral up to the ceiling. They fanned out across the ceiling until they reached the edges, pooling down the walls until they reached the floor. He stood and guided smaller orange flames around himself as if the flames were meant to protect him. Azazel danced around the room, guiding his flames into beautiful twists and curls. The room was full of flickering orange and yellow flames that had yet to go out.

“That was beautiful!” A raspy voice exclaimed from the doorway. Azazel’s head snapped to the side as he locked eyes with a familiar white-eyed demon. He had a wide smile on his face as he touched some of the flames. Azazel felt heat rise to his ears. Alastair had most likely watched Azazel for a while before saying anything. Most importantly, those were his flames that Alastair had just touched. The orange flames that had circled around him. He could have easily touched the yellow flames on the wall, but he chose the orange flames. Perhaps he was getting his hopes up. The torturer’s voice snapped Azazel out of his thoughts.

“It’s just the right amount of hot too, perfect for many uses,” Azazel smirked as the other walked towards him. He took Alastair’s hand to see if any damage had been done. Al’s hands were rougher than the other had imagined. Probably from the years of torture he had to endure as well as give. He smiled as he absentmindedly rubbed over the callouses and various scars.

“Enjoying them?” Azazel pulled his hands back from shock. He stared at Alastair in disbelief for a moment before placing his hands on his lap.

“Yeah, they’re rougher than I thought.” Yellow eyes blushed at the realization of what he said. He turned his eyes away from Alastair and looked down at the floor. He felt a rough pair of fingers graze over his chin to bring his eyes to meet the other's once again. A taunting smile was plastered over Alastair’s face.

“You think about me? How sweet,” He chuckled. Azazel sighed with a smile as he shook his head. This was going to be torturous. Which was honestly fitting for Alastair. The white-eyed demon couldn't get far without being a sadist in some form or another.

"Do you treat everyone in the higher-ups like this or am I just special?" Azazel was pushing his luck. Maybe if he played along Al would stop reading him like an open book. This failed tremendously. Alastair moved closer to the Prince of Hell, grabbing his hand as he wrapped his free arm around the other's waist so he couldn't move back. Azazel froze and looked up at Alastair, trying not to focus on how close they were. He ignored how Alastair's hand was wrapped gently around his own, but his fingers betrayed him as they wove between the other’s like they had done it hundreds of times before. Alastair’s voice snapped Azazel out of his thoughts as it usually did.

"Just you." Alastair said leaning over the Prince with a warm smile. Azazel had never seen anything like it. He committed the smile to memory as he hid his blushing face in Al’s shoulder. The two found themselves mindlessly swaying from side to side as a soft hum came from Alastair’s lips. The two began to pick up their pace, now actually dancing as Alastair began to sing Cheek to Cheek louder than before. Azazel smirked and used his flames to make beautiful spirals like he did earlier. The flames curled around the two, barely grazing their skin as they twisted and spun around the room. Some took the form of small cartoon hearts like the ones children drew for their crushes while most of the flames scattered along the wall. Alastair pulled Azazel closer as the two danced, swirling around and through the flames. The two slowed their dance as the flames burned out, both still close as they stood in front of the throne. Neither one moved away, they simply stood there content with the other's existence. Azazel didn’t know how long it was until they decided to give each other room to breathe. It had felt like hours, days even due to Hell’s influence on time.

“I have to go up top soon,” the Prince muttered, closing his eyes a bit while looking up at Alastair. He wasn’t happy with the arrangement, but one of his special children was going to be out of college soon. This was the one he was rooting for, the boy would need a little push to get his powers going and he was prepared to do whatever was needed. Alastair stared down at the Prince, a look of dissatisfaction on his face. The other knew his friend’s distaste for Earth, it was something they had in common. Even knowing this, Azazel hoped that Al would offer to come with him.

“Meg will be ready by the time you have to leave, but for now, we could stay here where it’s warm,” Alastair smirked, pulling Azazel against him again. The other chuckled and moved his free hand to Al’s shoulder.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were flirting with me,” Azazel joked, knowing full well that Alastair was flirting with him. Even if it was for his own entertainment, Alastair was a sadist after all. It wouldn’t be a surprise if-

“I am dear.” Those words made Azazel pull back a bit out of shock, which caused Al’s smirk to turn into a look of concern. “I’m sorry if I startled you, but you looked like you were doubting it.”

Azazel smiled brightly and inadvertently made little flames dance around himself as he bounced on the balls of his feet. When he was excited they would appear, always red with a hint of orange. Alastair thought this was adorable and giggled at the sight. The current ruler of Hell was in his arms, bouncing like a child receiving a piece of candy for being good. The flames circling him stopped abruptly as Alastair leaned forward a bit to place a gentle kiss on the other’s forehead. This stopped the other’s excitement immediately. A wave of confusion overtook the Prince. He leaned up towards Alastair and hovered over his lips.

“You missed.” Azazel leaned forward and pressed his lips to Alastair's swiftly. The other smirked and returned the kiss, leaning down a bit so it wasn’t as uncomfortable for Azazel. The two separated after a moment and smiled at each other, their eyes turning their respective colors as they stared.

“I hate to ruin the mood, but I have to go. Meg still has some training to do,” Alastair said as he rubbed his Prince’s hand and waist. Azazel nodded in understanding and slipped out of his arms to walk Alastair to the door. They said their goodbyes and promised to meet again once Alastair was done with Meg’s training. Azazel closed the door, returned to his throne, and smiled widely as he recounted the events, his flames dancing behind him as he tossed his legs over the arm of his throne and closed his eyes.

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What does it mean to want to be with someone you haven't seen in ages? Is it a fascination? An obsession? Or perhaps, is it love? The two weren't supposed to feel love, they were born out of hate and torment, out of anguish and suffering. Love was an unimportant factor in their lives. Yet, Azazel and Alastair simply couldn't mistake this feeling as anything but love. The two were together in their free time, but occasionally Azazel would spend time with Meg and Tom. He was beginning to favor Meg since she seemed to be intrigued by her new father. Azazel had traveled to Lucifer’s crypts with her, showing her a sign of trust. The two were close enough to the point where Azazel would send Meg up to Earth to keep an eye on his Special Children. This was one of those times.

Azazel had asked Meg to find and keep an eye on his favorite Special Child: Sam Winchester. He had recently gotten news that the boy and his brother had reunited and wanted to make sure that Sam was still going down the right path. After the door to Alastair’s study closed, the Prince found himself being swiftly pulled back into his lover’s arms. He looked up at Alastair and wrapped his arms around the other’s neck.

“Miss me already?” Azazel joked, closing his eyes and leaning up towards the other. Alastair chuckled and leaned down to place a soft kiss on Azazel’s lips. The two smiled as they parted, Azazel rubbing the torturer's cheek with his thumb. They stood like that for a bit, exchanging small kisses and words of affection before sitting down on the torture table. Alastair placed his hand over his lover’s softly, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over the outside of Azazel’s thumb. The two closed their eyes and enjoyed each other’s presence. They weren’t trying to keep their relationship a secret, in fact, the only ones who knew were Meg, who had made a bet with Tom on how long it would take, and the unfortunate souls who happened to walk in on the two in the throne room or during their walks. Those souls were quickly dealt with since the two had reputations to uphold. However, they might be more feared if Hell knew that they were together. Both were incredibly powerful, the only things separating them were abilities and rank.

“You’re daydreaming again little flame,” Alastair mumbled. The little flames of excitement that prompted the nickname in the first place sprang to life. They danced around Azazel as he smiled and moved closer to his lover. The torturer wrapped his arm around the other’s waist, kissing his forehead as Azazel laid his head on his shoulder. The flames danced even more, now surrounding Alastair as well as the pyromanic next to him. Alastair pulled Azazel closer to him, resulting in the Prince climbing onto his lap, once again placing his head on the other’s shoulder and closing his eyes. The torturer smiled and kissed the other’s cheek and neck softly, leaving small trails as the flames bounced and danced around them. Azazel brought one hand up to the back of Alastair’s head, pulling him closer while the other arm wrapped around his shoulders. Yellow-eyes began to give Al neck kisses as well, feeling one of the hands on his waist move to rest on his thigh. He smiled softly, cupping Alastair’s cheek now as he nuzzled into the crook of his neck. Alastair mumbled something before moving the hand currently resting on his lover’s waist up to his hair. Azazel leaned into his touch, humming softly when he felt Alastair’s fingers move through his hair.

“Hmm? What did you say Al?” Azazel rubbed the torturer’s cheek with his thumb, smiling as the other kissed his neck again. He used one of his flames to get Alastair’s attention, leaving a small burn on his hand.

“I said I love you,” Alastair said, smiling as he nibbled on his lover’s neck. Azazel hummed in admiration, moving his hand from Alastair’s cheek to cup the hand on his thigh. He squeezed it softly, causing Alastair to squeeze his thigh. Azazel gasped softly as he felt the squeeze, as well as the smile that spread across Alastair’s lips.

“I love you too,” Azazel smirked, allowing himself to melt into his lover’s hold. Alastair rubbed Azazel’s thigh teasingly, squeezing it from time to time. Every squeeze made the Prince blush and nuzzle further into the crook of Alastair’s neck. This earned a giggle out of the tormenter at hand, urging him to leave a trail of soft bites down his Prince’s neck. Azazel whined softly, moving Alastair’s hand off of his thigh. The other looked up at him in confusion before Azazel shifted to face Alastair chest to chest. A look of realization washed over the torturer as he wrapped his arms around the other’s waist. Azazel shook his head softly, wrapping his arms around his torturer’s shoulders. The two leaned forward and shared a loving kiss, Azazel once again melting into Alastair’s arms as they both smiled into the kiss. The Prince decided that it was Alastair’s turn to receive neck kisses, so he set about doing that once they parted from their kiss. Alastair’s hands found their way back onto his Prince’s thighs, squeezing them teasingly again. Azazel bit at his torturer's neck in retaliation, not enough to hurt him too much but just enough to make him suck in some air. Oddly, Alastair only squeezed his thighs more. Azazel looked up at him and kissed the bite mark he had just made. His hand came up to cup the other’s cheek, rubbing at it with his thumb again which earned Azazel a smile from Alastair. The torturer turned his head to place a soft kiss on the palm and wrist of his Prince’s hand.

“This is really comfy,” Azazel smiled as he snuggled into the crook of Alastair’s neck. He felt the other’s hand find its way back up to his hair, nails lightly scratching at the Prince’s scalp while the other moved to the middle of his back. The hand on Azazel’s back slipped up his shirt while Alastair left a trail of kisses down his arm. The fingers on his hand curled as nails were softly dragged down the sensitive skin. Azazel moved to wrap his legs around Alastair since it became obvious that neither was going to move for a while before slipping his free hand down the back of his lover’s shirt. The Prince lightly scratched at Alastair’s shoulder and back as he resumed his position in the crook of the torturer’s neck. Alastair, happy with the arrangement, laid down on the table while holding Azazel close to him. After one of them motioned towards the door to make sure it was locked, the two wrapped around each other on the small table. Their legs entangled each other while their arms brought them closer. They exchanged soft kisses as well as whispered words of endearment. Azazel slipped a hand up to pull down Alastair’s shirt a bit and began to trace his sigil on Alastair’s chest, making sure to make every little circle and line as perfect as possible. He was pulled closer to Alastair when finished with the sigil, possibly involuntarily. Azazel looked up to see that the torturer had closed his eyes while the sigil was being drawn, a small smile present on his face. The Prince smiled out of joy, his little flames dancing around him as he pressed his ear against Alastair’s chest, wrapping his arms around the torturer’s neck before closing his eyes to follow his lover into a peaceful sleep.

Chapter Text

A pair of arms reached from behind to pull him into the abyss. Air rushed past them as the figure holding Azazel struggled to contain him. It was cold. So very cold. The two fought and soon the Prince was free. He knew this feeling of isolation. This feeling of fear. He was falling. He grasped at the air, desperate to stop his descent in any way possible. He’d be beating his wings if he had any. He couldn’t teleport, as much as he tried. Azazel was trapped at the mercy of the fall. He couldn’t have been falling for long if he had been dragged back into Hell. Maybe a few minutes according to Earth’s time. This couldn’t be Hell. It was too cold. Light came into view for a split second. Azazel was falling into a room. He was falling into- He felt himself hit the ground. It was cold. Before he knew it Azazel was back up on Earth. It was too cold. The grass beneath his feet wasn’t helping, nor were the multiple layers of clothes. Why was it so cold? Azazel looked up, seeing the Righteous Man himself holding… holding the Colt. Aiming it at him. The demon noticed that they were in a cemetery at night. How fitting. Maybe that’s why it was so cold. He heard a shot. He watched the bullet, committed it to memory. He looked up at the Righteous man, saw a mix of satisfaction and confidence in his eyes. They were so, so very cold. Azazel didn’t have time to think. Didn’t have time to say goodbye to Meg and Tom. Didn’t have time to… The bullet pierced his chest. He felt himself vanish. He felt himself disappear from existence. He felt everything. This was too real.

Azazel awoke with a gasp, finding Alastair’s arms loosely wrapped around him. There were burn marks on the walls, some even advanced to the ceiling. The Prince pushed himself free of his lover’s hold, falling onto the floor as he did so. He scooted back until his back pressed against the wall. He still felt like he was falling. He could barely feel the wall. He definitely couldn’t feel the floor. Azazel heard the other shift on the table, presumably because he heard Azazel fall. The Prince pulled his knees close to his chest, crossing his arms over his knees to bury his head in them. He heard Alastair sit up with a sleepy groan. He felt his flames spark up around him. They weren’t quite dangerous enough to burn anyone yet, just small sparks like the ones that could be seen when lighting a lighter.

“Little Flame? What’s wrong?” Alastair asked, his voice showing more concern than his movements. Al moved slowly off of the table and onto the floor as not to startle Azazel. He crouched on the ground and tapped a hand on the floor to get his Prince’s attention.

“Azazel, can you hear me? Try to look over at me dear,” Alastair said a bit louder, trying not to let too much of his concern show through his voice. That could just make Azazel space out more. He eased his way closer to Azazel, still curled up with his back against the wall and his face covered by his knees and arms. Al was trying to avoid making the situation worse. The last thing he would want to do is make Azazel scared of him. Alastair crawled forward and placed a hand gently on top of Azazel’s knee. He saw him flinch at the touch. The torturer lightly shook and tapped at his lover’s knee to try to snap him out of his trance. Azazel moved his head slightly to barely raise his eyes at his lover. Al saw a glaze of confusion and panic over them. He moved his hand to lightly place it on Azazel’s arm, smiling softly.

“I… I’m sorry ‘bout.. your walls…” Azazel whispered, still not completely out of his nightmare. Was it a nightmare? No, it couldn’t have been. Everything was too specific to be a nightmare. Which meant that it was… it was real. The thought of falling came back to Azazel, his sparks flaring up once again. He clenched his fingers around his arms, looking down at the ground to make sure it was still there. It felt as if the room was crumbling underneath him. The Prince choked back a small sob, turning away from his lover. He could feel Alastair reach towards him, felt his heavy hand on his arm. The hand felt like a ton of iron had been placed onto him. He heard Al speak but couldn’t process what was said. The Prince raised his eyes to meet with the torturer’s. They had turned their familiar white. It was probably an attempt to comfort Azazel. Alastair was saying something but Azazel just placed his chin on top of his lover’s hand. The torturer moved his hand to cup the Prince’s cheek, lightly rubbing it with his thumb. Azazel leaned into the touch, feeling reality come back to him. With reality came Alastair’s voice. He heard compliments coming from the torturer’s calm voice. Everything from the way his eyes lit up when Azazel used his flames to the way he pressed his face into the crook of Alastair’s shoulder when they were close. Azazel smiled, feeling the floor underneath him become solid as Al kept speaking. He tapped his foot lightly, his fingers loosening as the words calmed him. The compliments were mixed with words of encouragement that drew Azazel out of his trance.

“I’m right here Little Flame. Here, hold my hand,” Alastair slowly extended his hand towards his lover as not to startle him. Azazel sniffled a bit and looked up, extending a shaky hand towards Alastair’s. The torturer wrapped his hand around his Prince’s lovingly, softly rubbing his hand with his thumb. Azazel moved off of the wall and was pulled into a comforting embrace. Alastair rubbed his Prince's back, dragging his fingers along the other's spine. The Prince nuzzled into his lover's shoulder, squeezing his hand as he closed his eyes. The sparks had evolved into slowly burning flames around Azazel's body. He pressed his face into the crook of Alastair's neck as he felt the torturer's fingers run through his hair.

“I’m not worried about the walls dear, I’m worried about you. Are you alright enough to talk about what happened?” Alastair’s voice was soft but deeper than usual. It sent a shiver down the Prince’s spine, shaking his head. The torturer nodded, moving his free hand to place it on his lover’s waist. He heard Azazel start to sniffle again, feeling his shirt begin to get wet as small, fresh tears started to emerge from his Prince’s eyes. Al turned to press soft kisses onto Azazel’s cheeks, kissing the tears away as they formed.

“Would it help to move you off of the floor, dear?” Azazel pressed himself closer to Alastair’s neck. The Prince’s legs were already wrapped around his lover’s waist as he nodded. Al placed a kiss on Azazel’s cheek, holding his lover securely against him as they got up from the floor. The two went into a side room off of Alastair’s torture room. It was decorated nicely, a large contrast from the plain walls and metal flooring of the previous room. The walls were a soft grey while the floors were a pristine walnut color, as was most of the furniture. A few chairs were stationed around a small circular table over to the right of the room. The table was placed in the middle of a small kitchen with a few counters, one had a coffee maker with a few mugs scattered around it. There was a bed towards the left of the room with a grey comforter to match the walls and one side was up against the wall. The lights were dimmed, making the atmosphere seem strangely calm.

“Don’t let me go…” He heard Azazel whimper as he was placed on top of one of the kitchen counters.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Alastair held his Prince close to him, feeling the other’s nails dig into his shoulder from how tightly the other’s arms were wrapped around him. The two left no space between each other as they stayed in their respective positions. Alastair held and comforted his Prince until the shaking subsided. He stopped asking if Azazel wanted to talk about what happened, it had become obvious that he didn’t want anything to do with the situation. After a while, Azazel had fallen back asleep. Alastair placed a soft kiss onto his lover’s neck before picking him up and tucking him into the bed on the other side of the room. The torturer climbed in the bed shortly afterward, wrapping his arms tightly around Azazel before flicking his wrist to close and lock the door. This was going to be a long night...