[ As he feels out the head of Elio's cock between his lips - it's been a while since he dealt with any cock not his own and he's taking his time, getting reacquainted with the concept - Elio apparently deduces that the wing in front of him is an invitation. At the first touch of fingers running through his feathers, Lucifer pauses, a tingle shooting down his spine. He groans. Shifts a bit, his feathers shifting in time with his movements, brushing against Elio's fingers as if begging for more.
They were meant to be touched, feathers. Wings. There's a reason he's had little use for them the past many eons.
Re-focusing on his mouthful, Lucifer curls his hand around the base of Elio's cock, angling it upwards a bit, away from his abdomen. Then, he takes it in another inch, just enough that it hits the roof of his mouth. He keeps his teeth well and truly out of the way, closes his eyes and sucks, cheeks hollowing. The taste of cock and precum mixes with the sparks of pleasure rushing down his back each time Elio's fingers make another down-stroke and within less than half a minute, he's hard again.
Under normal circumstances, he'd be deep-throating him, maybe give the head a bit of advanced tongue-action just for the sake of sexual theatrics but this, for some odd, inexplicable reason, is different. He... wants it to be, perhaps, though he can't for the life of him understand the whys or the whats of it. Regardless, he simply keeps sucking him, applying pressure, releasing it, bobbing his head up and down a little just to give the sensation of glide. He frees his hand from Elio's thigh and reaches down to finger his balls, just rolling them against his palm lightly, playing around.
[ There's a sense of double-stimulation to it, to stroking Lucifer's feathers slowly, softly with his fingers and being slowly, softly sucked into his mouth in turn, feeling how the other man works his cock with his tongue, lips, pressure, glide. He's taking his time, being so careful... Elio groans, writhing beneath him, lifting off his heels a bit to follow the inward sinking sensation of his shaft slipping over the other man's tongue. He isn't actively fucking his mouth, he's just following his lead, taking everything he can from it, everything Lucifer's giving. It's incredibly intimate. The kind of sex Elio hasn't had in years and years and years, if ever, if even Oliver can be said to have truly counted as a starting point.
Then, Lucifer reaches down and fingers his balls, rolling them against his palm lightly, obviously just for the feel of him and a brief second, in between two slobbery sucks of Lucifer's mouth on his cock, Elio wonders whether the other man has ever had this kind of sex before, himself. They've both had so much sex that wasn't anything like this, he thinks, but are they each other's firsts, really? Are they in some weird, inexplicable way starting on the same, fresh, unwritten page?
The thought makes the heat in his balls feel so acute he knows he'll be coming soon, very soon. Whimpering in a low voice, he finally gives a small push of his hips, feeling the glide over Lucifer's tongue and it's beautiful, it's perfect just like this and a little more, a little more... So close. He licks his lips, they feel dry and tight and puffy, still, but he regrets nothing. He regrets nothing. ]
You make me feel so special, Lucifer.
[ And leaning forward a little, kind of bending in over Lucifer in his lap, he runs the whole flat palm of his hand down over Lucifer's left wing, just pushing his fingers through his feathers, keeping it all in order, no disheveling. Just the brush, the touch, the feel of him. All of him. ]
[ Elio's thrusting up into his mouth a little, it's not a lot and he doesn't quite have the angle for it but Lucifer follows his movements all the same, falling into his rhythm and coaxing his pleasure out of him, slowly, surely. The way he whimpers makes him feel strangely protective, somehow, but then again, he has been, hasn't he, around Elio? Almost since the very beginning of their relationship. There's something so preciously innocent about him, even with his heartbreak and his empty sexual encounters and the way he touches people so very intimately when he plays at Lux after hours. It's hard to describe, really, probably because it's rare. Most adults aren't like this. Most adults have flaws that go too deep.
Himself included.
You make me feel special he says, like he isn't simply inherently special all by himself. Lucifer doesn't laugh, though he would if he didn't have his mouth full. It's a preposterous thought, after all, that he'd have anything to do with that. But then, Elio runs his whole palm down his wing, fingers slipping through his feathers, brushing them down, and his cock twitches pathetically against his thigh, precum leaking onto his belly. He moans, roughly, around his mouthful. Dips his tongue into the slit a bit before running his other hand further back along Elio's perineum. He feels the heat of him clearly down here and it's something else they'll have to get to, one day, if it suits them both.
For now, he rubs his damp index finger over the rim of Elio's arsehole, dipping in slightly, feeling the muscle there as it twitches in response. He sucks him harder, letting him fuck his mouth as he sees fit, the smell of sex and musk heavy in the air. He'd dearly like to jerk himself off as well but alas, he's only got two working hands (useless, wings, utterly useless) and he needs the other one for balance - so instead, he simply shifts his hips a bit and focuses on Elio's pleasure, on the taste of him and the heavy weight of his cock against his tongue. ]
[ He likes it. Lucifer likes Elio touching him there, brushing through his feathers and the pacing of Elio's hips goes up exponentially at the sound of the other man moaning around him, his balls drawing up more and more and more until he feels on the verge of imploding, pretty much. He does fuck his mouth now, little, shallow thrusts that push him against the roof of his mouth, keeping the gliding sensation up at an even rhythm. Elio's eyes have fallen shut, he's arching his back slightly into the feel of it and his hand moves automatically now, feathers, wing, hips thrusting, Lucifer's finger slipping over his asshole, oh...
It's too much. The way he sucks him and then presses inward, just dipping into his body, so that at one and the same time, he's inside Lucifer and Lucifer's inside him. Coming full circle, coming full, coming...
He gasps, loudly, borderline overwhelmed and feels his cock pulse between the other man's lips, feeling how he's spending himself all over his tongue, hard loads of cum exploding out of him and leaving him dizzy, staring into the darkness behind his own eyelids, hand halting momentarily against Lucifer's wing. Oh. Oh. It's a full-body orgasm, the kind that rages through his muscles, leaving him shaking slightly, now that he's been tensing up for so long, and making his hips seek out the tail-ends of his own pleasure, pushing forward, everything hard and sensitive and blinding. A bright, blinding white. The rim of his asshole flutters and tightens around the slight intrusion of Lucifer's finger, too, and for a second they're connected by that one touch, fingertip to this void in him. The last half-thrust makes him almost sob.
For a long moment, he just sits like that, blinking himself back into existence, while he more or less leans on Lucifer by the upper arch of his wing. Orgasms never make Elio feel full, they can make him feel sated and drowsy and happy, but he rarely feels less incomplete. He does this time. Like a little part of him's fallen into place.
Falling and flying, after all, don't have to be mutually exclusive.
He smiles, feeling the expression grow quite wide, and starts up his stroking of the other man's wing again after a moment, looking down at Lucifer with nothing but warmth in his gaze. ]
[ It's no effort at all for him, to follow the slight thrusts of Elio's hips even as they grow more desperate, clearly chasing, chasing - oh. Yes. Elio's arsehole clenches against his fingertip and his cock pulses between his lips as the other man hits the edge, tumbling over it, filling Lucifer's mouth and throat. He swallows, ignoring the taste which never does much for him, and sucks him through the aftershocks, his own body aching to follow suit. Elio's hand against his wing has paused, understandably - there's a limit to one's ability to multi-task, it's all very fair and square - and it takes him a moment to start up again.
When he does, however, Lucifer draws away slowly, popping his cock out of his mouth wetly and looking up at him. The other man's smiling, widely, beautifully, like the orgasm's landed him somewhere quite incredible and it suits him. Combined with his angelic features, he looks straight out of the Silver City, really, and he ought to be repulsed by the idea but instead, all he feels is quiet. Quiet, at peace, undisturbed.
Heaven on Earth, isn't that what they say? Humans know where it's at.
With a sigh, long and shaking, he slips down onto his side, resting his head against Elio's lap and looking up at him. Every time he runs his hand down his feathers, his cock jerks, his lower body heating up, growing tighter. He tips his wing sideways, stretching it out past Elio's shoulder, giving him free range of whatever he can reach and casting his own lower body into shadow. It's fine, though. Licking his own palm, leaving cum all over it along with a good amount of spit, he reaches down and starts stroking himself, his hand harsher now, rougher.
There's something like a whimper happening at the back of his throat but he's just going to pretend he can't hear it, yes? Yes. Instead, he lets his gaze wander, fixing on Elio's lower body, his spent cock, then up along the lines of his chest, his chin. He can taste him very clearly, like he's all over his system now, blending in, becoming one. ]
[ They meet somewhere in the eye of the storm. Elio post-orgasmic and blissful, done with the chases for now, and Lucifer popping his cock out of his mouth, hard again and ready to go for another round. He doesn't actually go anywhere, though, and Elio realizes that for a moment, when the man started moving, he'd feared he would. Leave. Find someone else. Finish elsewhere, not with him. Instead Lucifer lies down on his side, in the shadows of his own wing and licks his palm, getting it sticky with Elio's cum and his own spit, before reaching down to work his hard cock, harsher, rougher than before.
Elio breathes out slow and deep, looking out over the wide planes of the man's wing, extended beyond his shoulder now, Lucifer giving him free rein of it, whatever he can reach. Touch me, it means, I want your hands. Elio's expression softens and he looks down at the other man again, watching the way his hand work, taking a second to sense the pacing of it, how fast he'd like it, then he lifts both hands to the other man's wing and just starts brushing downwards over the intricate pattern of feathers, letting his fingers tease in between them here and there to really untangle them, letting him feel the tips of his fingers clearly. The day before, removing bullets for two hours, he learned things about wing anatomy he'd never known before, like the fact that there's a gland that's located just up the curve of Lucifer's arch with the oil that makes them all shiny and gleaming...
Elio brushes his palm down over it, lightly, feeling the stickiness transfer from his skin onto Lucifer's feathers as he continues the motion downwards. He's warm and soft and he sounds like he's dying to come, does Lucifer, his eyes trekking up Elio's body, up his front to his face and Elio meets his gaze, holding it without force. His voice, still raw and rough from the deep-throating, is nevertheless soft, too. ]
You should see yourself. You're shining.
[ Which, of course, means, that's how I see you right now. ]
[ Oh, oh, that's - he moans, gaze still locked on Elio's face, as the other man starts working over the feathers of his wing in earnest, lights flashing in the wake of his fingers, like sunlight bouncing off water. Moments later, Elio catches the preen gland - seemingly on purpose - and Lucifer actually gasps, bucking up against his own hand, a surge of arousal bursting through him. You're shining says Elio and with the oil coating his feathers, he is, quite literally. He gets it, though. That he means something more by it.
Breath shuddering out of him, Lucifer works his cock harder still, faster, Elio's scent still strong in his nostrils and on the back of his tongue. He pushes his face against the other man's naked thigh and groans, feeling his second climax building up fast. With Elio's hands in his feathers, he can't even begin to control his own pacing - he simply lets himself float, his lips parted against Elio's skin as he runs towards it, runs, runs, leaps -- ]
Ah! Oh, bloody --
[ He gasps, words sticking in his throat, as he spends himself all over his hand, the feathers quivering wildly beneath Elio's fingers. There are no coherent thoughts left in his mind and what a blissful way to be, huh, what a beautiful existence! He strokes himself another couple of times before he lets his hand fall away, his cock lying limp against his thigh and his eyes wide open, pupils blown wide. He's breathing hard, staring up at Elio unseeingly, the wing sinking down to rest against the bed, feathers glittering.
He's not aware of his eyes having changed, unfortunately. Right now, they're a fiery red, something more intense than mere physical pleasure burning within them. ]
[ Elio's always been one to watch, has been since he first understood how sex worked, maybe even earlier, maybe it's just a personality thing, out of his control. He likes observing the people he wants, likes, loves, drawing lines between their actions and their words, drawing conclusions from what he sees. It isn't much different with Lucifer, watching him work himself towards his second climax, hand rough on his cock and breathing stuttering out of him as Elio helps him take flight, fingers smearing the oil out over another row of feathers, another, another and there, he's gasping and moaning and coming all over his own hand, all over the bed and it's beautiful, like something out of time. Something that only belongs to this world halfway. Elio's gasping a bit as well and once he's slept off his latest orgasm, he'll be jerking off to the memory of this one, won't he? He'll he jerking off to exactly this mental image. Lucifer in his lap, staring up at him unseeingly with so much passion in his eyes that it might as well brim over...
Oh.
It did.
Looking down at the other man for a long moment, wordlessly, Elio takes in the fiery red of his pupils, something like actual fire seemingly burning in his gaze and maybe he should be afraid, but he knows where it stems from, where it originated and the Devil never had any claim to him, except the very, very obvious one right now, his head weighing Elio's thigh down and keeping him anchored. Hands pausing on Lucifer's wing, then, he lets them both sink to his lap, cupping Lucifer's face between his fingers gently and bending in over him just enough to increase their proximity, make it easier to whisper to him: ]
Always look at me like this.
[ He smiles, strokes the other man's skin, the stubble of his beard tickling his palms, the residual gland oil on his right hand leaving smears over Lucifer's cheek. Like he's already told him, on the brink of orgasm, Lucifer makes him feel special and this is no exception, this is just one more time where Lucifer treats him to the everything he doesn't seem to show the rest of the world, maybe not even himself. Elio will gladly be that person for him. Will be that person until Lucifer doesn't need one anymore. Anyone. Not him, either. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
They were meant to be touched, feathers. Wings. There's a reason he's had little use for them the past many eons.
Re-focusing on his mouthful, Lucifer curls his hand around the base of Elio's cock, angling it upwards a bit, away from his abdomen. Then, he takes it in another inch, just enough that it hits the roof of his mouth. He keeps his teeth well and truly out of the way, closes his eyes and sucks, cheeks hollowing. The taste of cock and precum mixes with the sparks of pleasure rushing down his back each time Elio's fingers make another down-stroke and within less than half a minute, he's hard again.
Under normal circumstances, he'd be deep-throating him, maybe give the head a bit of advanced tongue-action just for the sake of sexual theatrics but this, for some odd, inexplicable reason, is different. He... wants it to be, perhaps, though he can't for the life of him understand the whys or the whats of it. Regardless, he simply keeps sucking him, applying pressure, releasing it, bobbing his head up and down a little just to give the sensation of glide. He frees his hand from Elio's thigh and reaches down to finger his balls, just rolling them against his palm lightly, playing around.
Feeling him out, too. ]
no subject
Then, Lucifer reaches down and fingers his balls, rolling them against his palm lightly, obviously just for the feel of him and a brief second, in between two slobbery sucks of Lucifer's mouth on his cock, Elio wonders whether the other man has ever had this kind of sex before, himself. They've both had so much sex that wasn't anything like this, he thinks, but are they each other's firsts, really? Are they in some weird, inexplicable way starting on the same, fresh, unwritten page?
The thought makes the heat in his balls feel so acute he knows he'll be coming soon, very soon. Whimpering in a low voice, he finally gives a small push of his hips, feeling the glide over Lucifer's tongue and it's beautiful, it's perfect just like this and a little more, a little more... So close. He licks his lips, they feel dry and tight and puffy, still, but he regrets nothing. He regrets nothing. ]
You make me feel so special, Lucifer.
[ And leaning forward a little, kind of bending in over Lucifer in his lap, he runs the whole flat palm of his hand down over Lucifer's left wing, just pushing his fingers through his feathers, keeping it all in order, no disheveling. Just the brush, the touch, the feel of him. All of him. ]
no subject
Himself included.
You make me feel special he says, like he isn't simply inherently special all by himself. Lucifer doesn't laugh, though he would if he didn't have his mouth full. It's a preposterous thought, after all, that he'd have anything to do with that. But then, Elio runs his whole palm down his wing, fingers slipping through his feathers, brushing them down, and his cock twitches pathetically against his thigh, precum leaking onto his belly. He moans, roughly, around his mouthful. Dips his tongue into the slit a bit before running his other hand further back along Elio's perineum. He feels the heat of him clearly down here and it's something else they'll have to get to, one day, if it suits them both.
For now, he rubs his damp index finger over the rim of Elio's arsehole, dipping in slightly, feeling the muscle there as it twitches in response. He sucks him harder, letting him fuck his mouth as he sees fit, the smell of sex and musk heavy in the air. He'd dearly like to jerk himself off as well but alas, he's only got two working hands (useless, wings, utterly useless) and he needs the other one for balance - so instead, he simply shifts his hips a bit and focuses on Elio's pleasure, on the taste of him and the heavy weight of his cock against his tongue. ]
no subject
It's too much. The way he sucks him and then presses inward, just dipping into his body, so that at one and the same time, he's inside Lucifer and Lucifer's inside him. Coming full circle, coming full, coming...
He gasps, loudly, borderline overwhelmed and feels his cock pulse between the other man's lips, feeling how he's spending himself all over his tongue, hard loads of cum exploding out of him and leaving him dizzy, staring into the darkness behind his own eyelids, hand halting momentarily against Lucifer's wing. Oh. Oh. It's a full-body orgasm, the kind that rages through his muscles, leaving him shaking slightly, now that he's been tensing up for so long, and making his hips seek out the tail-ends of his own pleasure, pushing forward, everything hard and sensitive and blinding. A bright, blinding white. The rim of his asshole flutters and tightens around the slight intrusion of Lucifer's finger, too, and for a second they're connected by that one touch, fingertip to this void in him. The last half-thrust makes him almost sob.
For a long moment, he just sits like that, blinking himself back into existence, while he more or less leans on Lucifer by the upper arch of his wing. Orgasms never make Elio feel full, they can make him feel sated and drowsy and happy, but he rarely feels less incomplete. He does this time. Like a little part of him's fallen into place.
Falling and flying, after all, don't have to be mutually exclusive.
He smiles, feeling the expression grow quite wide, and starts up his stroking of the other man's wing again after a moment, looking down at Lucifer with nothing but warmth in his gaze. ]
no subject
When he does, however, Lucifer draws away slowly, popping his cock out of his mouth wetly and looking up at him. The other man's smiling, widely, beautifully, like the orgasm's landed him somewhere quite incredible and it suits him. Combined with his angelic features, he looks straight out of the Silver City, really, and he ought to be repulsed by the idea but instead, all he feels is quiet. Quiet, at peace, undisturbed.
Heaven on Earth, isn't that what they say? Humans know where it's at.
With a sigh, long and shaking, he slips down onto his side, resting his head against Elio's lap and looking up at him. Every time he runs his hand down his feathers, his cock jerks, his lower body heating up, growing tighter. He tips his wing sideways, stretching it out past Elio's shoulder, giving him free range of whatever he can reach and casting his own lower body into shadow. It's fine, though. Licking his own palm, leaving cum all over it along with a good amount of spit, he reaches down and starts stroking himself, his hand harsher now, rougher.
There's something like a whimper happening at the back of his throat but he's just going to pretend he can't hear it, yes? Yes. Instead, he lets his gaze wander, fixing on Elio's lower body, his spent cock, then up along the lines of his chest, his chin. He can taste him very clearly, like he's all over his system now, blending in, becoming one. ]
no subject
Elio breathes out slow and deep, looking out over the wide planes of the man's wing, extended beyond his shoulder now, Lucifer giving him free rein of it, whatever he can reach. Touch me, it means, I want your hands. Elio's expression softens and he looks down at the other man again, watching the way his hand work, taking a second to sense the pacing of it, how fast he'd like it, then he lifts both hands to the other man's wing and just starts brushing downwards over the intricate pattern of feathers, letting his fingers tease in between them here and there to really untangle them, letting him feel the tips of his fingers clearly. The day before, removing bullets for two hours, he learned things about wing anatomy he'd never known before, like the fact that there's a gland that's located just up the curve of Lucifer's arch with the oil that makes them all shiny and gleaming...
Elio brushes his palm down over it, lightly, feeling the stickiness transfer from his skin onto Lucifer's feathers as he continues the motion downwards. He's warm and soft and he sounds like he's dying to come, does Lucifer, his eyes trekking up Elio's body, up his front to his face and Elio meets his gaze, holding it without force. His voice, still raw and rough from the deep-throating, is nevertheless soft, too. ]
You should see yourself. You're shining.
[ Which, of course, means, that's how I see you right now. ]
no subject
Breath shuddering out of him, Lucifer works his cock harder still, faster, Elio's scent still strong in his nostrils and on the back of his tongue. He pushes his face against the other man's naked thigh and groans, feeling his second climax building up fast. With Elio's hands in his feathers, he can't even begin to control his own pacing - he simply lets himself float, his lips parted against Elio's skin as he runs towards it, runs, runs, leaps -- ]
Ah! Oh, bloody --
[ He gasps, words sticking in his throat, as he spends himself all over his hand, the feathers quivering wildly beneath Elio's fingers. There are no coherent thoughts left in his mind and what a blissful way to be, huh, what a beautiful existence! He strokes himself another couple of times before he lets his hand fall away, his cock lying limp against his thigh and his eyes wide open, pupils blown wide. He's breathing hard, staring up at Elio unseeingly, the wing sinking down to rest against the bed, feathers glittering.
He's not aware of his eyes having changed, unfortunately. Right now, they're a fiery red, something more intense than mere physical pleasure burning within them. ]
no subject
Oh.
It did.
Looking down at the other man for a long moment, wordlessly, Elio takes in the fiery red of his pupils, something like actual fire seemingly burning in his gaze and maybe he should be afraid, but he knows where it stems from, where it originated and the Devil never had any claim to him, except the very, very obvious one right now, his head weighing Elio's thigh down and keeping him anchored. Hands pausing on Lucifer's wing, then, he lets them both sink to his lap, cupping Lucifer's face between his fingers gently and bending in over him just enough to increase their proximity, make it easier to whisper to him: ]
Always look at me like this.
[ He smiles, strokes the other man's skin, the stubble of his beard tickling his palms, the residual gland oil on his right hand leaving smears over Lucifer's cheek. Like he's already told him, on the brink of orgasm, Lucifer makes him feel special and this is no exception, this is just one more time where Lucifer treats him to the everything he doesn't seem to show the rest of the world, maybe not even himself. Elio will gladly be that person for him. Will be that person until Lucifer doesn't need one anymore. Anyone. Not him, either. ]