[ For someone so exceedingly tall and broad, Lucifer moves with quite a lot of grace, a lightness that seems to contrast his build, but why wouldn't he move like that, he's got literal, actual wings, he defies gravity on a regular basis. Elio's breathing open-mouthed now, mostly because the air in here's thick with the smell of sweat and arousal, crotch and cock and a thousand colognes. Some would call it a stench, but it's more a call to arms, really. Be ready to plunder! Because there's that male lack of inhibition, right?
The guys down there are certainly buzzing around Lucifer like moths to a flame and maybe there's no better image to use, after all. The way they gather around him, the way he lets himself pass from one pair of hands to another, setting up boundaries as others breathe, no groping, no rubbing, no grinding unless he wants it, specifically. Someone gets their hands under his shirt, obviously invited or they wouldn't have been allowed at all, would they and do they realize how lucky they are, Elio getting increasingly hard just looking down at them, him. Watching him as he looks back, his eyes heated and his gaze heavy. Elio breathes in, reaching down with one hand to noticeably right his cock in his pants.
He's never been the jealous type. It's not a bisexual thing, it's an Elio thing - he likes seeing people free and unrestrained, he has yet to meet anyone he'd want to bind with his own emotions that he should rightly be accountable for himself. Elio doesn't want to bind Lucifer either, unless it were to tether him to the ground, of course, ensure he'd never leave and even then, even then...
Partings can be inevitable, he knows. Painful, but inevitable. Not that Elio wants to think about that now. Not now, not ever.
When the other man looks so at home and so unworried and so free, surrounded by people who can't resist him anymore than Elio has ever been able to. Maybe even less. Elio, at least, said no for a long time, didn't he?
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The guys down there are certainly buzzing around Lucifer like moths to a flame and maybe there's no better image to use, after all. The way they gather around him, the way he lets himself pass from one pair of hands to another, setting up boundaries as others breathe, no groping, no rubbing, no grinding unless he wants it, specifically. Someone gets their hands under his shirt, obviously invited or they wouldn't have been allowed at all, would they and do they realize how lucky they are, Elio getting increasingly hard just looking down at them, him. Watching him as he looks back, his eyes heated and his gaze heavy. Elio breathes in, reaching down with one hand to noticeably right his cock in his pants.
He's never been the jealous type. It's not a bisexual thing, it's an Elio thing - he likes seeing people free and unrestrained, he has yet to meet anyone he'd want to bind with his own emotions that he should rightly be accountable for himself. Elio doesn't want to bind Lucifer either, unless it were to tether him to the ground, of course, ensure he'd never leave and even then, even then...
Partings can be inevitable, he knows. Painful, but inevitable. Not that Elio wants to think about that now. Not now, not ever.
When the other man looks so at home and so unworried and so free, surrounded by people who can't resist him anymore than Elio has ever been able to. Maybe even less. Elio, at least, said no for a long time, didn't he?
Can you believe that? ]