[ Elio nods at Lucifer's question, putting the brandy back on the table and following the other man with his eyes as he gets up, the way his body moves, strong and steady. A heat gathers in his abdomen, it's a mix of the usual kind, the kind that says, I want and something else, something softer, fonder. I love. When Lucifer grabs the heater, Elio doesn't expect there to be a problem, really, usually nothing can hurt him unless Chloe's around, but even so the man growls a damn it and has obviously just burnt himself on the thing, Elio's hands slipping down his own legs. He's ten seconds from getting up, asking are you okay, but Lucifer provides him with the answer without saying a single word, grabbing a blanket and moving the heater closer with it. Sitting down next to him again, the other man's warmth and presence as well - and Elio considers crawling back in his lap, pretty much headfirst. Until he realizes that Lucifer is actually vulnerable. Here. Now. With him.
Oh.
But there you have it, he says. Elio blinks, watching him for a moment with a frown. ]
That's what happens, isn't it? When your way of life gets rudely interrupted by people who want to kill or kidnap you. [ With a loose wrist, Elio gestures softly between them, you and me, it means. It comes with a nod of his head and a small smile, that little comment. ] We need a new way of life, Lucifer. At least for a while. No people who're going to hurt us invited.
[ Carefully letting himself tumble over onto his side, mostly very controlled, he stretches out and puts his head on the other man's thigh, looking up at his face from below. It's a good angle on him. It says, will you trust me with that? Elio meets his eyes, holding his gaze. ]
[ Elio gestures between them, talking about getting rudely interrupted in your life and a part of Lucifer bristles at the thought of Chloe being referred to as people, as someone on par with, say, Michel, that miserable bastard. All the same, when Elio rolls down onto his side and puts his head on Lucifer's thigh, his tension completely dissipates, leaving just the urge to touch, to emphasise the connection between them, physical, incidental, cosmic - whatever it might be. Gaze sliding away from the other man's, he runs his hand through Elio's thick curls, initially at a lazy, uncoordinated pace.
Then, he settles down a little bit further, finds a better angle for his hand and starts picking curls apart from each other, putting them in order, one after the other. It'll leave Elio's hair all puffy once he's done and Lucifer probably shouldn't, it's making him look all sorts of bird-like and unfortunate. Regardless, he keeps going. Puts them in order, strand after strand, pulling gently at the curls and feeling them slide between his fingertips, warm and soft.
When he speaks, his eyes are downcast, following the motion of his own hand. ]
Then, I'll do my utmost.
[ He looks at Elio then, carefully. It's so hard, he thinks, to know what's up and down these days. Whether doing the right thing is even possible when your actions, well-intentioned, open and true, can lead to... He sighs. Continues, lips curving ever-so-slightly: ]
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Oh.
But there you have it, he says. Elio blinks, watching him for a moment with a frown. ]
That's what happens, isn't it? When your way of life gets rudely interrupted by people who want to kill or kidnap you. [ With a loose wrist, Elio gestures softly between them, you and me, it means. It comes with a nod of his head and a small smile, that little comment. ] We need a new way of life, Lucifer. At least for a while. No people who're going to hurt us invited.
[ Carefully letting himself tumble over onto his side, mostly very controlled, he stretches out and puts his head on the other man's thigh, looking up at his face from below. It's a good angle on him. It says, will you trust me with that? Elio meets his eyes, holding his gaze. ]
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Then, he settles down a little bit further, finds a better angle for his hand and starts picking curls apart from each other, putting them in order, one after the other. It'll leave Elio's hair all puffy once he's done and Lucifer probably shouldn't, it's making him look all sorts of bird-like and unfortunate. Regardless, he keeps going. Puts them in order, strand after strand, pulling gently at the curls and feeling them slide between his fingertips, warm and soft.
When he speaks, his eyes are downcast, following the motion of his own hand. ]
Then, I'll do my utmost.
[ He looks at Elio then, carefully. It's so hard, he thinks, to know what's up and down these days. Whether doing the right thing is even possible when your actions, well-intentioned, open and true, can lead to... He sighs. Continues, lips curving ever-so-slightly: ]
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