[ He looks at Elio in surprise for a moment, holding back a harsh How could you possibly be of any use to me? because, well, he beat him to it, didn't he, and also...
He really is a curious cookie, this man.
With a head-tilt, he finally smiles, very slightly, and gives his shoulder a small squeeze. Keeps his hand there for a moment, feeling that wiry strength underneath, not like his, not at all. All the things that set them apart seem to be the ones that bind them together, too. Elio, who thinks that it shouldn't be either, who listens without asking for much of anything in return, who Lucifer can't read with his mojo, who'd probably feel horrible speaking his desires out loud even if he could. ]
Thank you, darling.
[ He steps away. Releases him, fingertips brushing past his elbow. ]
[ And just like that, with a squeeze of his shoulder, Lucifer's moving on - into a world where his mother throws him around and his father throws him from the sky and who does Lucifer throw, is the question. Who gets thrown by Lucifer, in turn? His touch leaves a heat in his skin and Elio looks from his shoulder to the disappearing contour of the other man's back, headed out. Have another drink, if you want and Elio doesn't want, he wants something else, something else entirely and he still can't quite put it into words. He thinks about his dreams, the two he's had about Lucifer, head on his shoulder, head on his chest, always head somewhere he can feel his body, hard and firm and strong and gentle. At the same time.
A deep breath, all the way into his lungs and Elio glances over at the piano again before exhaling. Deities work not in mysterious ways, but in too-human ones, think the Greek pantheon, think the Egyptian one or any other around the globe. He thinks there was probably one thing he could've done, Elio.
He knows the human ways, after all.
As such, he reaches for his Sex on the Beach and downs it in one, thinking he needs a fun bike ride home if nothing else. ]
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He really is a curious cookie, this man.
With a head-tilt, he finally smiles, very slightly, and gives his shoulder a small squeeze. Keeps his hand there for a moment, feeling that wiry strength underneath, not like his, not at all. All the things that set them apart seem to be the ones that bind them together, too. Elio, who thinks that it shouldn't be either, who listens without asking for much of anything in return, who Lucifer can't read with his mojo, who'd probably feel horrible speaking his desires out loud even if he could. ]
Thank you, darling.
[ He steps away. Releases him, fingertips brushing past his elbow. ]
Have another drink, if you want.
[ With that, he turns away. ]
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A deep breath, all the way into his lungs and Elio glances over at the piano again before exhaling. Deities work not in mysterious ways, but in too-human ones, think the Greek pantheon, think the Egyptian one or any other around the globe. He thinks there was probably one thing he could've done, Elio.
He knows the human ways, after all.
As such, he reaches for his Sex on the Beach and downs it in one, thinking he needs a fun bike ride home if nothing else. ]