[ Elio holds onto him, sweet and pliant and just, how did anyone hurt this man, why would they, what's the bloody point? Then again, Lucifer's seen the worst of humanity, he's heard them scream and beg and excuse themselves, over and over and over. He knows why. He just doesn't understand.
Holding onto Elio a little bit tighter, he feels the wind against his feathers, the way it rustles the fluffier ones along the arches. His long, primary flight feathers, on the other hand, move only insofar as he lets them, arching his wings a little to catch the updraft. Then, he takes them both upwards, soaring towards the sky at neck-break speed. He takes them over Los Angeles faster than Elio would be able to make out any details - it's only once he sees pure darkness beneath them that he comes to a stop, mid-air, wings angled to keep them afloat. They're about eighty feet above sea-level, right above the Pacific Ocean, maybe half a mile out from Santa Monica Pier. The Park itself, located right along the very tip of the coastline, is closed for the night and dark, all hulking shapes and looming shadows thrown against the night sky.
His wings are reflected by the ocean beneath them. The waters are calm tonight, the wind cool but quiet, the sky starry up above. He holds them still, pressing his lips slightly against the side of Elio's head, feeling his hair against his lips.
He hasn't truly flown - not like this - for... too long. He can't remember. It's...
[ And once the other man catches the updraft, they're off. Elio doesn't know what he'd expected, not what he gets. It's fast, they're hurdling through the air so fast the details of the landscape, skyscrapers and rooftops, become blurred and non-sensical, Picasso in motion. Not even the fastest rollercoaster Elio's been on went by this fast, but at least his inclination to throw up isn't triggered by it, their ascend towards the heavens. He just holds his breath and waits for the forwardness to end. The pressure of the wind that makes him blink rapidly, everything falling in and out of focus.
It does end, though, after what feels like mere seconds. He gasps for breath, maybe slightly out of awe, too, and looks around, finding them above the ocean (Pacific, would be his best guess, he has no idea how far Lucifer has taken them, how far he could) - and then, he spots the Park at Santa Monica Pier in the horizon, far, far away, just looming shadows against a backdrop of stars. You never get a night sky like this over a big city. Elio suddenly remembers his summers in B, the skies over their summer house. It was this kind of sky.
He smiles, feels Lucifer's lips against his hair, the nearness of him, the way they're just floating above the waves together. Lucifer's wings are reflected in the water down below. ]
Please keep them.
[ Slowly, Elio turns his head, feeling Lucifer's lips near his temple, brow, he lifts his face up towards him and, trusting the other man to hold him up, leans up as much as he can to press his lips to the corner of Lucifer's mouth, just a small row of soft kisses, until he's at an angle where he can kiss him properly, catching his bottom lip between his two.
He doesn't say, it isn't my decision, the wings are yours, seeing as he thinks at this point they know each other well enough. Lucifer wouldn't have a doubt what he means anyway, his mouth is telling him. About the light and the stars and how no one has ever lifted Elio up like this before. ]
[ Elio's gasping for breath, looking around them, hopefully sensing the clearness of it, the way eternity doesn't have to make you feel small and insignificant. Sometimes, even as a human - surely, you're allowed to take part in it. Surely. He doesn't glance upwards, though there's something spiteful lurking in his chest, something sour and unrepentant. Eons in Hell couldn't quell that side of him, obviously. These wings - his Devil face, stolen - he'll fix it all. He'll get himself back, piece by bloody piece, whether it'll take him forever to do so.
Please keep them says Elio and he wouldn't, not for his sake, as the other man undoubtedly knows. Consequently, he doesn't answer. This, in itself, speaks volumes.
Against him, Elio leans up close and Lucifer balances them both in the air with a few, light strokes of his wings, the waves beneath them crinkling from the resultant gust of air. When the other man kisses him, first a small row of gentle touches against the side of his mouth and then, a proper one, full on the lips, Lucifer returns it easily, eyes falling shut for a few seconds as he basks in the feel of it - of floating, controlled and unburdened, and Elio's taste warm and heavy on his tongue.
He pulls back. Looks towards the shoreline, towards the black outline of the amusement park, the bulk of the ferris wheel. Then, he shuts his eyes tightly, focuses - focuses - and lets his power flow for all of a split-second but it's enough, of course. His wings gleam behind him briefly, the waves glittering white.
The ferris wheel lights up in hues of blue and indigo along with the lights on the rollercoaster and along the pier. Slowly, the wheel begins to turn. It's beautiful, he thinks, and smiles, widely. His eyes are getting wet but he can't let go of Elio to wipe them and wouldn't, either, in any case. Instead, he simply holds him closer and gives him the view, tonight.
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Holding onto Elio a little bit tighter, he feels the wind against his feathers, the way it rustles the fluffier ones along the arches. His long, primary flight feathers, on the other hand, move only insofar as he lets them, arching his wings a little to catch the updraft. Then, he takes them both upwards, soaring towards the sky at neck-break speed. He takes them over Los Angeles faster than Elio would be able to make out any details - it's only once he sees pure darkness beneath them that he comes to a stop, mid-air, wings angled to keep them afloat. They're about eighty feet above sea-level, right above the Pacific Ocean, maybe half a mile out from Santa Monica Pier. The Park itself, located right along the very tip of the coastline, is closed for the night and dark, all hulking shapes and looming shadows thrown against the night sky.
His wings are reflected by the ocean beneath them. The waters are calm tonight, the wind cool but quiet, the sky starry up above. He holds them still, pressing his lips slightly against the side of Elio's head, feeling his hair against his lips.
He hasn't truly flown - not like this - for... too long. He can't remember. It's...
Right now, it hardly matters what it is. ]
no subject
It does end, though, after what feels like mere seconds. He gasps for breath, maybe slightly out of awe, too, and looks around, finding them above the ocean (Pacific, would be his best guess, he has no idea how far Lucifer has taken them, how far he could) - and then, he spots the Park at Santa Monica Pier in the horizon, far, far away, just looming shadows against a backdrop of stars. You never get a night sky like this over a big city. Elio suddenly remembers his summers in B, the skies over their summer house. It was this kind of sky.
He smiles, feels Lucifer's lips against his hair, the nearness of him, the way they're just floating above the waves together. Lucifer's wings are reflected in the water down below. ]
Please keep them.
[ Slowly, Elio turns his head, feeling Lucifer's lips near his temple, brow, he lifts his face up towards him and, trusting the other man to hold him up, leans up as much as he can to press his lips to the corner of Lucifer's mouth, just a small row of soft kisses, until he's at an angle where he can kiss him properly, catching his bottom lip between his two.
He doesn't say, it isn't my decision, the wings are yours, seeing as he thinks at this point they know each other well enough. Lucifer wouldn't have a doubt what he means anyway, his mouth is telling him. About the light and the stars and how no one has ever lifted Elio up like this before. ]
no subject
Please keep them says Elio and he wouldn't, not for his sake, as the other man undoubtedly knows. Consequently, he doesn't answer. This, in itself, speaks volumes.
Against him, Elio leans up close and Lucifer balances them both in the air with a few, light strokes of his wings, the waves beneath them crinkling from the resultant gust of air. When the other man kisses him, first a small row of gentle touches against the side of his mouth and then, a proper one, full on the lips, Lucifer returns it easily, eyes falling shut for a few seconds as he basks in the feel of it - of floating, controlled and unburdened, and Elio's taste warm and heavy on his tongue.
He pulls back. Looks towards the shoreline, towards the black outline of the amusement park, the bulk of the ferris wheel. Then, he shuts his eyes tightly, focuses - focuses - and lets his power flow for all of a split-second but it's enough, of course. His wings gleam behind him briefly, the waves glittering white.
The ferris wheel lights up in hues of blue and indigo along with the lights on the rollercoaster and along the pier. Slowly, the wheel begins to turn. It's beautiful, he thinks, and smiles, widely. His eyes are getting wet but he can't let go of Elio to wipe them and wouldn't, either, in any case. Instead, he simply holds him closer and gives him the view, tonight.
Gives it to himself, too. ]