This was inspired by a series of lyric comics by Zaraegis on Youtube, though this story directly follows the last one. It'll make the most sense if you watch them all (Guilty, Don't Mess, Crown, Finale) before reading, but the summarized events are that Dice leaves the Devil's casino after the events of the game and starts his own on another island, though I'm not sure if it's supposed to be part of Inkwell Isles or not.

He stared at the contract, the same he had tricked people with for so many centuries; he supposed it was only fitting it'd be used against him now. He tried to tell himself it didn't matter, that he could just rip it to shreds and forget all of this, but he knew that he couldn't. It had been a long time since he'd been able to think clearly where Dice was concerned.

He felt his gut clench, his jaw sore from how hard he'd grit his teeth. How had he missed all these signs before? How had he been so blind?

He jumped to his feet, the contract gripped tightly in his fist. There was only one thing he wanted now, only one thing that mattered.

"Dice, wait!"

To his surprise, the man stopped, his wide shoulders squared, his posture stiff. He didn't turn his back, wouldn't even glance at him. He felt something inside himself tear, and he couldn't stop the tears that pricked his eyes.

"Dice…" he'd never heard his voice crack like that, never thought it was possible he could feel like this. "Dice, please…"

There was a long silence, then Dice breathed deeply, letting it out at the same slow pace as his turn to face him.

There had never been so much anger in those haunting green eyes, but he was surprised to find no hatred, only sadness and regret.

"This better be good," Dice spoke, his tone cold and clipped. "I have my own casino to run now."

Satan squeezed his eyes shut, feeling those burning, bloody tears start to run through his fur. It was the last of the angelic purity that remained in him, a permanent reminder of everything he had already lost.

"You were right, Dice," he said, the words nearly choking him. But they had to be said. "I was toxic, and I'm nothing without you."

He took a small step forward, his legs shaking. He expected the man to stop him, but Dice didn't react, he didn't even move.

"I was so caught up in myself that I never even realized how powerful you really were, or even the hold that you had on me."

His knees gave out, and he fell to the floor, the marble tiles bitterly cold through his tattered slacks.

"I don't deserve you," he continued, unwilling to stop; he'd never forgive himself if he didn't get out everything now, no matter what it led to. "But I'll do anything to get you back."

He heard Dice gasp as he raised a hand to his lips, wincing as his teeth punctured the flesh of his fingertip.

"We both know I don't have a soul, but I'm still ready to make a deal."

He showed Dice the contract, held the drop of blood to the signature line, a wicked burning coursing through his veins in time to the loops and lines of his name, the true name he no longer spoke aloud. His arm trembled, fell to his side, all while Dice stood frozen across from him.

"I'm yours now, Dice," he said at last. "Do whatever you want with me."

The silence was overwhelming, and the urge to run bubbled in his gut, but he fought it down. He knew this would be his only chance, and he wasn't about to waste it. Finally, Dice stepped toward him, the click of his polished shoes echoing around them. He expected a kick, or fire to spring up and consume him, anything except the firm fingers, gloved in soft silk, that gripped his chin.

He couldn't bring himself to raise his eyes any higher than those lips, the same he had caught himself fantasizing about so many times since his defeat at the hands of two boys. He thought he'd be shoved to the floor, and he briefly wondered when Dice had knelt down.

"It's about time you figured out where things stand," the man told him, his tone unchanged. "You sad, stubborn little prick."

The words broke the last bit of his shattered pride, and the tears that had barely stopped began to fall again. He wasn't sure he wanted to know how Dice would react to his next move, but he had to see if there was anything left to at least try and repair. He gripped the lapels of Dice's jacket, and rose just enough to take his chance.

He never thought he'd feel those strong arms wrap around him.

Dice despised himself for giving in to the kiss, even with knowing those feelings had never truly gone away. He sighed, letting himself enjoy the moment he'd wanted for so long, the one he'd lost all hope of getting.

The Devil's claws pricked his skin as his hands slipped cautiously up his chest, as those hard, furry arms in their ruined sleeves wound over his shoulders. That forked tongue prodded gently at his lips, asking hesitantly for permission he readily gave. It met his easily, letting him have all the control, another act he never thought he would see.

He pulled the demon closer, one arm around his waist, his other hand clutching tightly at the back of his head, reminding the immortal who was really in charge. It felt like eternity before his need for breath forced him to end it, both of them panting as they pulled apart. The fallen ruler still wouldn't meet his eyes, his gaze fixed solidly on the white shirt, the lavender coat smeared with blood. A single dark claw ghosted over the stains, erasing them from existence.

Dice surprised himself when he pulled off his gloves, his eyes lingering briefly on the cluster of scars that dotted his palm. Satan's eyes widened a bit when he saw them, and he trembled as that hand came to rest lightly on his cheek. Dice loved the feeling of that rough fur against his bare skin, sticky and matted as it was. He moved in first this time, and he soon felt the heated body he held to him start to relax, though the fallen angel remained subservient.

Exactly where he wanted him.

"Did you really think that would be enough to fix things," he asked icily, feeling himself smirk. That lean black face wore a mask of surprise, the gold and scarlet eyes filled with grief, and acceptance. Two more things he'd never thought he would see. He ended the embrace, rose to his feet and stepped back, adjusting his clothes as his former boss stared at him brokenly, only the second time since his arrival that the Devil had dared to look him in the eyes. "Sorry, boss, but it won't be that easy."

He turned his back, leaving the man on his knees as he strode away, even as the desire for more fought him every step of the way. He pulled open the door, stepped out, barely looking back before he slammed it shut. He fell against it in the wall, buried his face in the hand still covered in that enticing scent, the other clenched around the fresh contract.

If Lucifer the Morning Star, the fallen son of Heaven, really wanted his forgiveness so badly, then he was going to have to go through Hell and back to earn it. And King Dice was going to make sure that he did, no matter how much having to wait for it hurt.

Satan stared at the door, silently pleading for it to open, even if all he saw was Dice's cold glare, but it stayed firmly closed. His lips tingled, still hot from the man's kiss, his heart pounding as the fresh memories coursed through his mind. He pinched himself to check if he were dreaming, the small, sharp pain assuring him that he wasn't.

The new King Dice really had just offered him a second chance, and he was going to try like Hell to prove it wouldn't be another on a long list of regrets.

He let his tears stop on their own, wiping the remnants with the back of his hand as he got to his feet. He had a new job to do, and an eternity to do it, he had made sure of that.