[ Elio takes his cue to be just a little bit selfish, to take a little for himself because he's accepting at the same time and Lucifer watches him, thrusting upwards and following Elio's pace, until the other man's basically fucking himself on his cock like his bloody life depended on it and it's so hot, it might be the hottest thing he's ever seen and Lucifer remembers - every person he's slept with, every face, every desire. But this, he thinks, breath coming out in gasps as he watches Elio work himself closer to the finish line, this is something else. Something very precious. Darling Elio, who takes what he is and likes it, who touches him even when he's at his absolute worst.
He feels it between his fingers, first, when the other man's cock stiffens up. Then, the feeling of slick as he spends himself all over his chest, his arsehole quivering around his cock, sucking him in. Oh. Oh. He moans, writhing a little beneath the other man while he falls through his climax, Elio, who's still falling, he told him so himself. It's beautiful. He's completely amazing. The other man's got tears in his eyes as he slumps down a little, his hands gripping Lucifer's shoulders. Breathing out harshly, Lucifer gives his cock another stroke, just to make sure he's all spent and empty, before he presses both hands to Elio's back and tumbles them sideways, pushing Elio down onto the mattress until they've switched positions, Elio beneath him, Lucifer casting him in shadow. He keeps him close, keeps him folded around him, his cock still buried in his arse.
Then, eyes falling shut, he starts thrusting for real, harder and faster than before, letting Elio hang onto him as he likes as he chases his own climax. It takes him only a handful of thrusts and he's there. He spends himself deep within the other man, his forehead buried against his shoulder and his muscles trembling. It's not exertion, exactly, but something that stems from a place that he can't quite understand, something about the tears in Elio's eyes, the heat of his skin against his, all the way down his front, their legs, the smell of his neck. It's so much.
So he stays there, just like that, while his cock softens and he breathes Elio in like there's nothing else for him to do and maybe that's just how it goes, maybe that's really what it is. ]
[ He doesn't have time to catch his breath. Once Lucifer's made sure he's completely spent, he tumbles them over in a surprisingly controlled reverse of their previous positions, Elio on his back on the mattress, Lucifer leaning in over him, curling his legs around him, his whole body, holding him close while he starts thrusting harder, faster, more desperately than before. Obviously chasing his own climax. Elio takes it. Elio stares into the side of his face, as he leans his forehead against his shoulder, breathes with him, hard and fast, gasping, biting into the very air to have this, have him.
When he comes, Elio feels the pulsing of his cock, feels how his asshole is throbbing hotly, sore and how it's perfect, just like this, a little bit tender. He's slipped his arms around the other man's shoulders, stroking his neck, one hand in his hair, too. He cradles his head. Once it's subsided, once there are only trembles and deep inhalations left, he stretches his neck enough to kiss his temple, his cheek, his nose, the corner of his mouth.
The tears in his eyelashes are obstructing his vision a bit and no matter how hard he blinks, they only stick more. Eventually, after what feels like an eternity, Elio reaches up to wipe the wetness away with the back of his hand. He has to draw back a little to do so, although he only releases his hold on Lucifer with one arm.
He doesn't apologize for crying. He knows Lucifer will understand.
Instead he slowly finds a lull in his own breathing again, looking at the close-up silhouette of Lucifer's face and thinking stupid things like, never leave, I'll never be whole again, I love you and saying none of them, because they're still just his feelings. It's still his little mess to navigate, while they enjoy themselves this way, drifting to and fro. Magnetic fields in the flesh.
So, Elio runs his fingers idly through the other man's hair and waits for the moment of withdrawal, knowing it'll come. ]
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He feels it between his fingers, first, when the other man's cock stiffens up. Then, the feeling of slick as he spends himself all over his chest, his arsehole quivering around his cock, sucking him in. Oh. Oh. He moans, writhing a little beneath the other man while he falls through his climax, Elio, who's still falling, he told him so himself. It's beautiful. He's completely amazing. The other man's got tears in his eyes as he slumps down a little, his hands gripping Lucifer's shoulders. Breathing out harshly, Lucifer gives his cock another stroke, just to make sure he's all spent and empty, before he presses both hands to Elio's back and tumbles them sideways, pushing Elio down onto the mattress until they've switched positions, Elio beneath him, Lucifer casting him in shadow. He keeps him close, keeps him folded around him, his cock still buried in his arse.
Then, eyes falling shut, he starts thrusting for real, harder and faster than before, letting Elio hang onto him as he likes as he chases his own climax. It takes him only a handful of thrusts and he's there. He spends himself deep within the other man, his forehead buried against his shoulder and his muscles trembling. It's not exertion, exactly, but something that stems from a place that he can't quite understand, something about the tears in Elio's eyes, the heat of his skin against his, all the way down his front, their legs, the smell of his neck. It's so much.
So he stays there, just like that, while his cock softens and he breathes Elio in like there's nothing else for him to do and maybe that's just how it goes, maybe that's really what it is. ]
no subject
When he comes, Elio feels the pulsing of his cock, feels how his asshole is throbbing hotly, sore and how it's perfect, just like this, a little bit tender. He's slipped his arms around the other man's shoulders, stroking his neck, one hand in his hair, too. He cradles his head. Once it's subsided, once there are only trembles and deep inhalations left, he stretches his neck enough to kiss his temple, his cheek, his nose, the corner of his mouth.
The tears in his eyelashes are obstructing his vision a bit and no matter how hard he blinks, they only stick more. Eventually, after what feels like an eternity, Elio reaches up to wipe the wetness away with the back of his hand. He has to draw back a little to do so, although he only releases his hold on Lucifer with one arm.
He doesn't apologize for crying. He knows Lucifer will understand.
Instead he slowly finds a lull in his own breathing again, looking at the close-up silhouette of Lucifer's face and thinking stupid things like, never leave, I'll never be whole again, I love you and saying none of them, because they're still just his feelings. It's still his little mess to navigate, while they enjoy themselves this way, drifting to and fro. Magnetic fields in the flesh.
So, Elio runs his fingers idly through the other man's hair and waits for the moment of withdrawal, knowing it'll come. ]