[ There's a naturalness to it that Elio craves, between them. The day has been low-key, easy-breezy interactions, nothing heavy or demanding, Elio's hair still a little bit puffy from Lucifer's earlier ministrations. Like the other man's left an imprint on him, one that's more clearly detectable than anything Michel's managed, Oliver, his long line of failed exes. Like this, because he's chosen it, is what he'll carry with him forward. Elio loves that.
After wriggling his ass in Elio's general direction and Elio's smile widening in response, Lucifer joins him in bed, slipping under the covers and all but entangling them from the get-go, legs, one arm held out in invitation and Elio would never decline. He would never decline any invitation Lucifer's willing to extend to him, because he knows how little the man, the Devil, gives of himself. Anything he does give is by definition a ticket into the deep, and Elio's grown up by the Ligurian Sea, he's not a bad swimmer. A bad diver. He's willing. So, he slips up to him, pressing himself up against his side and nuzzling his face in against the side of his neck, just below the jut of his jawline, stubble against his forehead, pulse beneath his lips, it's perfect. Glancing upwards, inclining his head only minimally, because it's really very nice like this, Elio tells him, words slow, careful. Precious. ]
There's a berm near my parents' summer house where Monet painted some of his work. We have the reproductions hanging around the hallways, they're beautiful. [ Shifting a little bit, he pushes away from Lucifer's neck and actually looks up at him more fully. It's not just a tale of his own spot in heaven, before Oliver, during Oliver, but never after. It's an open invitation, to meet the other man halfway on his. ] If you want to come, I'll show you the place.
[ Lucifer's arm is strong and lean, wrapped around him and Elio pushes back against it, feels the muscle, skin, bone there. Breathing in, then out deeply, he licks his lips and realizes he's just suggested the first stop on their... adventure, Lucifer called it. Sounds better than vacation.
Adventures you quit your job over. Which Elio just did earlier today, didn't he? ]
[ Elio slips right up against him, nuzzling his face in against the side of his neck and Lucifer doesn't think he's been the snuggling type before, not really, but then again, he's never met anyone who'd stayed long enough for him to find out. Maybe he's always liked to snuggle? Gosh, no wonder he'd felt all abandoned down in Hell, he'd had Maze for company and little else. Imagine trying to snuggle her. He'd probably lose more than one limb in the process.
Also, there's something about Elio that just... well. The other man simply seems to lend himself to it, doesn't he, with how he's always so freely physical, the way he seems to love the proximity without ever being greedy or bothersome about it. The perfect recipe for a snuggler, surely. Lucifer's not complaining.
He puts his chin on top of Elio's head and breathes him in for a moment before replying. ]
You've taken me there several times already, I believe.
[ He still remembers waking up in the morning with the scent of the nearby waters, the grass and the sunlit dust seemingly fresh in his mind. It's odd, actually, how Elio used to dream about him. How he'd called him, in his sleep, and merged them on a subconscious level. If Lucifer had been a bit more like Amenadiel, he probably would've attempted to sort out the whys of it all - the none-working mojo, the dreams, the vulnerability - but alas, he didn't get the brains in the family. He got the looks, thank Dad.
So, he simply nods against Elio's head and tightens his grip around him a little. ]
[ The last word's a contemplative sound while he's briefly reminded of the dreams he used to have about Lucifer, Lucifer in that house, Lucifer outside of it, Lucifer by his side, taking his apricots from him like gifts. The other man's arm tightens around him and Elio thinks about how he's never had dreams quite like them before, equal parts wish fulfillment and predictions. Will they pick the last apricots off the trees when they get there this time, there should still be some ripe. Will they sit on Anchise's bench? Lie in his old bed? Will they... He pauses, huffs out a breath that's almost a laugh and reaches up to place his hand flatly on the middle of Lucifer's chest, just slowly dragging his palm downwards, curving his fingers slightly, like he's playing the piano. ]
I'll make sure not to be asleep when I give you head up against the piano next time, though.
[ A joke. First off, you can't even be half asleep when blowing Lucifer, really, he's too big, his cock requires that you engage your throat more than just any light snoring necessitates. Besides, Elio has never felt more inclined to be awake than with him, experience it all, take it in, literally. Secondly, he remembers that particular dream almost more vividly than the others, not so much for the contents, but for the consequences. How it ended, the phone sex, the tender beginnings of something neither of them knew what would become.
They hardly even know what it is now.
His hand comes to a halt right above Lucifer's navel, index finger circling it lightly, lazily. By accident, mostly anyway, he's found that the other man's somewhat ticklish from the midriff and down across his stomach. Something Elio honestly finds adorable, like a vulnerability anybody could exploit, if they got close enough and Lucifer would let them. The question is, of course, how many he lets.
[ Ooh. He smiles, leaning his head back a little and closing his eyes while Elio runs his deft fingers down his chest. His cock twitches a little beneath the sheets because, well, there's a mental image. It's not quite halfway to hard but given a little extra incentive, mm - he sighs. Relaxes down against the mattress, all thoughts of L.A. feeling suddenly very distant and unreal, as if they've entered a wholly different sort of world, a... parallel reality, even.
And those exist, incidentally. Just look at Elio, conjuring up dream scenarios for them to share at night. ]
A piano's quite a sturdy instrument, actually. If you wanted, I'm sure I could --
[ Pause. He inhales, sharply, as Elio's fingers trail over his midriff in a rather too pointed manner, leaving him instantly suspicious. He opens his eyes just as the other man circles his index finger above his navel, his touch just light enough, slow enough, to make his skin twitch. Twisting a little beneath the other man's hand without actually pulling away, he re-focuses on him for a second before slipping his hand into his hair, the angle awkward seeing as Elio's pretty much resting on his arm. All the same, he manages to get a hold - gently, of course - of a few locks.
When he speaks, there's a mock-darkness to his voice, something a little rough, a little fiery: ]
[ The mood changes rather fluidly, Elio loves that they can do that, go from one emotional reality (joke, the mental image of Lucifer fucking him over his father's old piano making something tighten and heat up in the pit of his stomach) to another (Lucifer's hand in his hair, gentle, but eloquent). The other man's voice goes darker, when he tells him careful now, there's a rougher edge to it, something not unlike fire and Elio breathes in hard, flattening his hand over his lower abdomen slowly as he pushes himself up onto his elbow, Lucifer's fingers tugging on a couple of strands of hair in the process. This way, he's looking down at the other man's face. He could make him squirm, he's already had him twisting a little beneath his touch, but he could easily go all in, make him lose his breath. Completely.
It makes his cock hard at least halfway. His exhalation is longer, contemplative almost. He lets his eyes run down over Lucifer's features, so familiar at this point, cleft chin, strong jaw, prominent nose.
The depth of his gaze when it meets Elio's. ]
I'm careful.
[ His voice has gone slightly hoarse. Curving his fingers again, just a little, he runs his fingertips lightly across the slight jut of hipbone, left side of Lucifer's stomach, lower ribs, midriff. It's clearly, clearly a tickle this time, although brief. ]
[ Elio flattens his hand over his abdomen and pushes himself up on his elbow, looking down at him. His eyes are all brown and black and depths, amazing depths, and for just a moment, Lucifer's mind flashes backwards and backwards and backwards though he isn't quite certain what he's looking for or why. It's just, for a moment he knows. When he blinks and re-focuses, he's left with a deep-seated sense of calm, the notion that they're alright, they're here, they're whole.
He thinks, then, for the briefest moment about Michel trying to take Elio away from him and at the deepest, darkest recesses of his soul, he wishes he'd killed him.
Then, Elio goes I'm careful, his dark eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and power, oh, oh - and he runs his fingertips over the jut of his hipbone, lower ribs, fuck, fuck! Gasping, Lucifer twists again beneath his fingers, curving his hand against the side of Elio's neck without really grabbing him, simply holding onto him a little, balancing. ]
I'll show you reaction, you little miscreant.
[ With a groan, he twists his hips sideways instead, aiming very pointedly for - yes. Ah. His half-hard cock - because yes, indeed, incentive was provided - brushes up against Elio's, the sheets between their bodies sort of adding to the friction. His breath comes out in a huff of air, his head falling back a little against the pillow. Nice. Oh. He keeps thinking about that look in Elio's eyes, the heaviness of it. The promises, inherent to it.
[ And he squirms. Elio huffs out a dark laugh, feeling his cock go stiffer just from the looks of the other man, twisting beneath his hand, Lucifer grabbing onto the side of his neck without truly taking hold, it's just for balance and Elio knows that need, to find your feet in a moment, because the moment is too deep or significant or beautiful, if not all three. He wants him to have that, he wants to give him that kind of time. The kind that matters.
Rather than removing him, Lucifer twists his hips to the side and pushes his very noticeably half-hard cock up against Elio's through the sheets, the added sensory input almost maddening, the distance, it's too much and Elio wants to be in him, he wants to eat his breath and bite his tongue. Carry his taste at the very back of his mouth. Leaning down, he pushes their mouths together roughly, his own half-open, wet and wanting, tongue running over the slope of Lucifer's bottom lip, not so much in a plea to be let in, but expecting, rather, that he will be.
Lucifer hasn't yet not given him what he wanted, after all. No matter what Michel thought I love you meant in that regard, it's the fine print, not the contract, the contract he and Lucifer have had negotiated for a long time. Maybe even longer than Elio can truly imagine.
Not that Elio kisses Lucifer and thinks about Michel. He kisses Lucifer and pushes himself up a bit further, leaning in over him properly, their shafts sliding over each other at the movement and Elio groans into Lucifer's mouth, running his palm flatly along the outline of Lucifer's chiseled abs, just feeling him out for a moment, no tickling, just... feeling. Sensing how firm and present the other man remains, even after everything. Elio bites his lip, then, just a hint of teeth.
Because he wants to be just as firm and present for him, doesn't he? ]
[ Elio responds in the best possible way - by following his cue. Lips curving in a half-smile as the other man leans in over him and runs his tongue over the slope of his bottom lip, Lucifer parts his lips quite happily, inviting him in, no holds barred. He slips his tongue along the width of Elio's, nudging against him, trying to coax him in deeper. At the touch of his hand over his stomach - firmer now, no hint of anything dangerous, like, say, tickling - Lucifer hums in agreement, pushing up against the other man's erection again, seeking out the friction there.
In terms of sheer, physical pleasure, it's not the most overwhelming thing he's ever tried. It's something else. With Elio above him, biting his lip, telling him that he wants, that he wants to share what he wants, even, Lucifer realises that they've somehow gone beyond the need for his mojo. That right now, he can ask the other man to tell him exactly what he wants and he will, like he's showing him right now. The thought makes the arousal in his abdomen curl, tight and red-hot.
He runs his hand back into Elio's hair at the back of his head, fingers curling between the strands, holding him without pulling. He looks up at him, his own gaze narrowed. He thrusts upwards, seeking out that long, hot slide of flesh against flesh, his cock fully hard now and definitely sensitive. The friction makes his toes curl a little, even. He pulls out of the kiss, breathing hard against the side of Elio's mouth. ]
What would you like, darling?
[ He runs his free hand lightly up the back of other man's thigh. ]
[ They're kissing and it's good, intense, the feeling of Lucifer's tongue coaxing him in further, letting him take all that space in his mouth, makes Elio harden the rest of the way and he can feel Lucifer's much the same where they're half-thrusting against each other. When the other man pulls back, they're both gasping, breathing hard, and the ever-present question, when you're dealing with the Devil, right, sounds like invitation and permission against the corner of his mouth.
What would you like?
Elio licks his lips, they're slick from Lucifer's spit, his own as well, and withdraws just enough to look down at him properly, get a good look at all his features. He realizes that what he wants is something they haven't already explored together which means it goes beyond wings and Devil face. He's been inside Lucifer's ass with his fingers, lots of butt-stuff, really, they both like their prostates, but he hasn't fucked him. He hasn't topped and it honestly hasn't been a problem, but tonight... Tonight, Elio thinks he wants to be the one who gives. In return. For everything Lucifer gives him. Like taking him here. Like going to Italy with him. ]
I want to be your top.
[ His voice sounds a pitch darker than usually, raw. He's breathing slightly shallowly, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Lucifer's mouth before sitting up, kicking off the sheets completely. Baring himself. Elio's always liked topping, he's just had crap luck finding men who would let him and the ones who did would run off and get married in shame afterwards, that kind of fucking luck. It isn't that he's nervous whether Lucifer will turn him down, if he does, they'll do something else, but Elio's showing a new side of himself, all the same, asking. A vulnerable side.
Only seems fair, of course, what with Lucifer being vulnerable for him, too. Isn't that the point? ]
[ He watches Elio lick his lips, his gaze following the whole, long slip of his tongue, mm, wet and pink and so utterly delicious-looking. He's just about to lean in and catch it with his lips when the other man follows up on his question, his voice dark and just a little bit rough around the edges. Be your top, he says, and for some reason, Lucifer's brain emphasises the your because really, there's nothing particularly earth-shattering about a man wanting to stick his cock in a tiny hole but the whole notion of it, of them... of Elio, choosing to word it like that, with all the implied vulnerability...
Tilting his head, he blinks when Elio kisses the side of his mouth, his own still parted slightly. He feels as if there's a kiss right on the tip of his tongue. Elio, however, pulls back and sits up, kicking the sheets away, revealing every gloriously naked inch of his beautiful body. It's interesting, that he'd choose to move. To get himself out of harm's way, right, metaphorically if nothing else.
Lucifer purses his lips. Tempers down the anger boiling underneath (hurt him, they hurt him, why would anyone do that to Elio, why's Hell the hardest punishment available?) and sits up on his elbows before spreading his legs a little, invitingly. ]
Lucky me.
[ He says it without an ounce of irony or sarcasm. His cock's full and hard against his abdomen and just beacuse, he reaches down and fingers it, palming the head and stroking the shaft once, fleetingly. ]
Lube in the top drawer - [ He points at the bedside table on Elio's side of the bed. ] - unless you want to try your luck without.
[ Pause. Re-wind. Oh, no, messy, messy. Vulnerability and badly-lubed anal sex? Hard pass. ]
[ He says it with a smile, mostly owing to how relieved he feels that Lucifer just... considers himself lucky, so he says, unironically - not to mention, horny enough at the thought to actually touch himself, putting himself on display, big cock, big hands, it's a really great combination. His own cock jerks a bit. Elio wants to kiss him again at his answer, kiss his neck, the strong stretch of muscle and skin between his collarbones. The heaviness of his shoulders. Instead, he turns towards the bedside table on his own side of the bed, opening the drawer and peeking inside. There's lube enough for an army of anal-fixated cavemen in here, seriously, so he just picks a tube that's unopened and slams the drawer shut, no hanging around. He knows what Lucifer was thinking, it wouldn't be strictly necessary, had he still been invulnerable around him, but anal sex without the proper prep, without the proper lubrication? Not pleasurable at all. Not under any circumstances.
Elio knows, firsthand. Oliver taught him, before running off.
When he turns back around, Lucifer has shifted onto his stomach, giving him another nice view of his ass, the curves of his cheeks, the dark heaviness between his thighs and Elio pauses for a second, just looking him over, just taking in every little detail, mapping him out. He's amazing, really. Elio knew, but being reminded certainly doesn't hurt. He smiles, slow and languid, tossing the tube of lube onto the bed somewhere within reach, but where it won't get in the way when they start moving around, and crawls up behind the other man, lets him feel the slide of his shins against his own, small bump of knee, until Elio's poised above him, back to front. He'll feel the hard length of his cock against his hip, too. Bending his neck, Elio kisses Lucifer's shoulder, just scattering kisses and soft bites along the slope of it while muttering in between: ]
Like I told you, I'm careful. I'll be careful until you're begging me not to be.
[ With one arm, he's holding himself up, his free hand running flat and fingers spread wide down over Lucifer's back, following his spine to the small of it, to where it becomes tailbone and buttocks. ]
[ He rolls onto his stomach whilst Elio gets the lube, folding his arms beneath his chin and watching the other man, face tilted slightly to the side. He's being quite decisive in his hunt for lube, isn't he, because he'd never dream of it and there's just something so incredibly enticing about him, about that way he has. Sweet Elio. Not in the naive sense, no, you couldn't ever even presume to call him that, the man's seen too much and been in too many difficult places. But he's always sweet. Always very considerate. You have to wonder how he's managed to stay that way.
The other man shifts up behind him, a slide of legs against legs and then, lovely, the long, warm length of his cock against Lucifer's hip. He shifts a little in response. When Elio bends down over him, the heat of his body signifying his proximity a split second before they actually touch, he feels suddenly very warm and very safe which is the weirdest sensation he's felt in... quite a while. He frowns. Shuts his eyes and focuses, on the feel of Elio's lips scattering kisses all over his shoulders, soft bites, mm, nice. I'll be careful. Careful. When has anyone ever...
Well, except him, of course.
Except Elio.
He breathes out shakily, his eyes slightly wet near the corners and replies, voice very obviously raw: ]
You always are.
[ He shifts again, just wiggling beneath Elio's weight. His cock's trapped against the mattress and it feels quite good, just sliding his hips forward a little, back, yes, like that. Not really trying to get off, just stirring the warmth in his belly, giving it traction. ]
[ You always are, Lucifer replies and his voice sounds slightly thick, slightly choked and Elio pauses for a second, mouth against the side of his neck, half-open and greedy, eating him up. You always are. They've got the opposite problem, him and Lucifer, he thinks, Elio doesn't look strong in any sense people read very well, so no one gives him the chance of proving that he is and Lucifer looks nothing but strong in the sense everyone can see, so as a consequence no one takes care, no one thinks it necessary. Despite the frailty of his heart, yes? The frailty of most hearts, but Lucifer's especially.
There's something slightly miraculous to it, how they read each other and bring out those exact properties, how they see each other beyond all outward appearances, too. ] I know you, love. [ A whisper. It makes him lose his breath a little just to say it out loud and he presses down over Lucifer like that, covers him with as much of his body as he can, from thighs to chest, cock pushing over his skin, leaving a fat trail of precum there as he feels the other man rubbing himself against the sheets beneath them. Elio draws in a deep, harsh breath.
They need slick. ] You feel that, right? [ It means, that I know, you feel it.
Elio pushes off his back halfway, then, supports himself on his arm as he reaches for the lube, unscrewing it quickly in order to fill his palm with the stuff. One-handedly, he smears it all over his fingers as well, glancing down and seeing the way it glitters in the light from the bedside lamps. He gives it a moment to heat up against his skin before reaching down and slipping two wet fingers in between the other man's buttocks, just letting him sense the slide, the steady push of fingertips as they run from his tailbone and down, over the rim of his asshole, rubbing in light circles around it, not much pressure yet, just implications. Because I'm here, I'm yours, you're mine. ]
Tell me how you feel it.
[ His cock jerks and no doubt, Lucifer feels that, Elio shifting forward and burying his face into the thick strands of the other man's hair, mouth against his temple, every breath heavy and moist. Hot. ]
[ Elio whispers, love, his breath lost to the words themselves, his body warm and heavy against Lucifer's back. For a moment, he doesn't know how to respond, his mind blank and devoid of anything except that word, ringing, echoing. Oh. Elio's told him before, hasn't he, because he's that kind of person. He's not afraid of it. Not afraid of his own capabilities, at least not in that department. Lucifer, on the other hand, has mostly doubt, mostly uncertainty, because love is a fragile concept in the world he hails from, stretched too thinly and too persistently. He loves all, they say.
Does it matter, then?
The tears in his eyes feel hotter now, heavier, and he rubs his face against his forearm to clear them whilst Elio leaves trails of precum against his skin, beautiful, lovely Elio and suddenly, all he really wants is this, right here, this path and where ever it's about to lead. As Elio lubes up his fingers, Lucifer breathes out slowly, evenly, gaze slipping outwards, out towards the lake beyond the cottage, the sky above. It's gone dark, finally. The stars are almost impossibly bright.
I know you, said Elio, and tell me, and there's really nothing else he'd rather do, is there? At the first touch of the other man's fingers between his buttocks, sliding down, circling his arsehole, he gasps, wriggling a little in response. The sensitive nerve endings down there are certainly appreciative - and so's Elio's cock, from the way it's jumping. Eager, aren't we? Indeed. ]
I -
[ He swallows. Tell me how. Eyes falling shut, he focuses on the feel of Elio's fingers, on his weight against his back, the warmth of his proximity. His breath against his temple. Tell me how. He breathes out. Slowly, roughly. Then, gently, his wings furl out from between his shoulders, spread out flatly across either side of the bed, the feathers fanned out slightly. Like an offering. They're shining, too, enough to light up the glass in the windows. When he finally speaks, his voice is breathy from wonder: ]
[ It happens in the blink of an eye and Elio feels it before he hears it, the gust of wind that announces Lucifer's wings as they unfurl making his curls dance slightly around his head. He hears himself exhaling sharply, everything is feathers and white and light glowing from every side, and he feels the curve of them, his wings, the strength, the massive size. A tall man with big limbs, all of them, it's just a fact. I feel it all over, Lucifer says, then, wings spread out across the bed and Elio wants to have him, he wants to be inside him, not take, but be given - like Lucifer is giving him a love declaration this way, not in words, but in action which counts for so much more anyway. Michel should take note, but really, the truth is Michel shouldn't have taken anything whatsoever.
Elio lifts his head from Lucifer's shoulder, glancing down across the sea of feathers, long tail-like feathers spreading out across the man's ass, tickling Elio's hand where he keeps rubbing at him, circling his asshole, applying pressure, pushing in a little bit more for each circular movement, index fingertip, index and middle finger, dipping, pushing, stretching. He can feel the rim of the other man's asshole give, steadily. He can feel the heat of him, making Elio's cock drip. He rearranges himself across Lucifer's back, more in the middle now, the head of his cock leaving trails along the top of Lucifer's thighs. It almost looks like the wings are his and maybe they are. It's only been a day since Elio was the one to offer, to fix them when they looked sad and now he gets that gesture back, shining ever so brightly. ]
I want to make you feel as wonderful as you look, like this. I want to make you feel this amazing.
[ It's a soft murmur against the back of Lucifer's neck, Elio shifting up a bit to give his hand the right amount of force, not too much, but just enough, as he pushes his index finger inside of him in one, long, even slide of pressure, slight stretch. He's burning hot as always, precisely that, burning. Elio breathes out harshly and lines up his middle finger as well on the out-stroke after a few shallow thrusts, letting Lucifer feel just the presence of the fingertip along the stretched rim, the promise, his index buried in him to the knuckle. Not in a way that's new, but it feels new regardless.
Lucifer's never given him his wings in return, after all. Slowly, achingly slowly, he starts fucking him. ]
[ Elio takes his meaning, like he's done from the start; though Lucifer doesn't always have a way with words, at least not with regards to the deeper things, the things that hurt and burn and leave him feeling skinless, the other man seemingly gets it, regardless. Gets him. I know you, he said. How can such a seemingly regular person know the Devil, how is that even possible (he knows the answer by now, that he isn't, that Elio isn't anything such as regular but it's hard to understand, to make sense of, so he'd really rather not). Eyes falling shut again, he breathes out deeply as Elio starts dipping into him, shallow strokes at first, not teasing but simply careful, that carefulness that seems to characterise him in every aspect, from the way he fucks to the way he plays the piano. It feels lovely. Very. His cock's dripping underneath him and he stays still, knowing that too much friction at this point is bound to get horrendously embarrassing.
When Elio pushes his index finger into him, he moans, pushing back just a little against his hand. It's not enough, obviously, but it's good, it's clearly exactly as it should be. The stretch of his rim goes straight to his balls, the long flight feathers along his back fanning out to either side a little and it's not that his feathers are connected to his arse somehow, all right, it's just that they're connected to his spine and... uh. Yes. Semantics. His next exhalation is a huff as he shifts his hips upwards, trying to angle Elio's thrusts deeper, just, slightly more... slightly... ]
Oh, that's good. [ Pause. He wets his lips, then says, voice a little too thin: ] You think I look wonderful?
[ And maybe, just maybe, his feathers actually fluff up a little in appreciation. Goodness, he's ridiculous. Good thing he can't see them all that well from this angle. ]
[ Elio smiles slightly as he says it, knowing if there's one man in the universe who won't take offense to being called beautiful over handsome, he's having him here, beneath him, now. Lucifer just likes compliments, that simple. Elio's the same, though Lucifer's no doubt better at accepting them, even his feathers respond favorably. Just look at them. Turning his head aside, cheek resting along the slope of spine, the back of the other man's neck, Elio fucks into him with one finger, long, slow thrusts, not quite deep enough, staying clear of his prostate very deliberately. He feels the other man push back against his hand, feels his feathers actively fan out to give him room and oh, oh, that's magnificent, and he has to fight himself not to rub against his thigh, not to stimulate himself too much, because he'd just come and not yet. Not yet, please.
He'll probably have to speed things up just a little bit, a tiny bit, he needs, right? They both do.
His breathing sounding shallow and fast in his own ears, Elio licks his lips, finally adding his middle finger as well, letting it slip in on a soft in-stroke, pushing in smoothly, deeply, to the knuckles this time, hooking both fingers into Lucifer slightly at the next pull-out. Lucifer asked for this, also wordlessly, they communicate by way of skin and feathers currently, and Elio is always happy to provide attention to the other man's prostate, honestly.
He likes the sounds he makes when he does. Pushing in against his back, Elio is breaking into a pant now, arm working as he fucks him in even, hard movements, soon adding a third finger. ]
[ Oh. Beautiful, he says, which would've probably sounded a little left field to most ordinary men of the Western world because, for some reason, they get insecure about anything that doesn't sound like a proper lumberjack working his masculine arse off in a forest somewhere. In other places of the world, it wouldn't stand out. In other times, other eras of human history, there'd be other rules yet. Lucifer's been around since before the dawn of humanity and he knows what beautiful means, how vast and inexplicable beauty can be, and when Elio tells him he's beautiful, it feels like all of that combined. It makes him blush a little, his feathers fluffing up even worse and then, the other man starts fucking him more evenly, adding his middle finger and hooking them both in and - oh - fuck -- ]
Ah!
[ He gasps, pleasure surging through his lower body every time Elio hits that perfect angle and the stretch feels even better now, especially once he adds his third finger. Lucifer groans, pushing his forehead down against his lower arms, his wings actually curving upwards a bit in response, moving with his shoulders. It's a good thing Elio's basically right in the middle of that whole affair or he might be getting knocked over the head at regular intervals. Unsexy, that. Unsexy.
Elio thinks he sounds beautiful, though, so none of that really matters.
He tilts his head sideways a little, glimpsing the outline of Elio's upper body behind his shoulders, his dark curls. He breathes him in. His scent makes him feel even fuller. ]
If you'd like - [ Another prostate hit, another gasp. Oh. Oh, yes. ] - you should get inside.
[ It's hitting actual urgency levels at this point, Elio's hips jerking forward, pushing his cock up against Lucifer's buttocks, dripping all over him, precum everywhere. He can't help it, really, it's the combined sensation of Lucifer's body giving to him, tensing, releasing around his fingers in intervals, the sounds the other man makes, his fucking wings puffing up everywhere, rising and falling with his shoulders and Elio's good to go, truly. Gasping harshly against the other man's shoulders, he comes to a complete, final halt as Lucifer glances back at him and tells him to get inside, fingers buried deep inside of him, all three, his rim stretched and tight and he's so warm. Elio can't, he can't, he... ]
Please know...
[ Blindly, but still carefully, no yanking, he slips his fingers out from Lucifer's ass and reaches for the lube again, gets his palm sticky with whatever's left in order to slick himself up. Superficial strokes, that or he's going to burst, and he aligns himself with him, front to back, pelvis against ass, cock slipping up between his buttocks, over his stretched hole, open. Elio breathes out, in, out. ]
This is exactly how I want you.
[ This, meaning - wings, puffy feathers, blush, little gasps as he pleasures him, the feel of his body giving and taking from him. That's how Elio likes him best.
Biting his lip, he grabs his cock by the base and runs the head, wet and sensitive, up and down the cleft of his ass a few times, just to feel him out. Then, he seriously can't take it anymore and leans in over him, feels Lucifer's back broad and strong against him, pushing in slightly. He's not as big as Lucifer, a plug isn't necessary, though he wants to give him that experience back sometime, but it's still tight and the fit narrow and it takes a slight angling of his hips to get the head to pass, push inside, glide into him.
Elio stills, breathing heaving. There are wings on either side of him, Lucifer's hair smells like him and his ass is furnace-hot and tight and when he buries into him the rest of the way, it's extremely slow, like he's savoring every inch.
[ He makes a disgruntled sound as Elio pulls his fingers out, the ensuing sensation of emptiness making him feel restless, like he's being kept waiting on something that should've already happened. Logically, of course, he gets the need for prep - incidentally, he really, really enjoys it - but it also leaves him gasping for completion, his cock hard and aching against the mattress and his arsehole grasping uselessly at nothing. He pushes his forehead against his arms again while Elio tells him - oh - well. Is it really. Exactly, is it? If his wings weren't already puffing up in pleasure, they'd be about as erect as his cock at this point; he probably shouldn't even have them out but Elio likes him exactly like this, meaning including the parts of him that he can't have ever wanted before he met him.
Unless, for some reason, he's been dreaming about fucking what, an ostrich? A swan? Messy.
His thoughts might've easily derailed - there's a slightly hysterical edge to them, he realises, which might have to do with... nerves? Oh! - but then, Elio presses the slick head of his cock up between his buttocks, dragging it down the cleft and over the sensitive rim of his arsehole and all he can really think is now and give it.
Then, when the other man actually presses himself inside, he realises why. The nerves. Lips parting in a soundless gasp, he remembers to relax and does so, forcibly. He breathes out as Elio pushes in and gradually, inch by inch, he's suddenly so full that he can't focus on anything else. Oh. Oh. Elio's so hot and lovely against his back and his cock feels equal parts big and long, buried in his arse. Throbbing hot. Fuck. ]
You - oh...
[ He swallows heavily. Then, slowly, he pushes himself up onto his elbows, back swaying. He lifts Elio right up along with him, of course, because Elio might feel big and heavy and all-consuming inside of him but he's actually quite light, quite easy to carry, and he fits so perfectly there along his back between the arches of his wings, raised now on both sides, feathers brushing against Elio's shoulders. Groaning, he turns his head slightly, enough to feel his jaw sliding over the side of the other man's face. Kiss me, it means, and as he twists a little bit to the side to allow the angle, his corresponding wing lowers with his shoulder, flattening out against the bed.
[ He pauses once he's seated in the other man's body to the base, mostly because he can't do anything else, the tightness of him, the way his inner walls are clamping around him makes Elio's head spin and his eyes fall shut. He hasn't topped anyone in years, it feels at once completely new and so familiar that he's reacting all by pure instinct. They both know, he feels, gasping soundlessly into the other man's hair - Lucifer and him, although it's a kind of first, their bodies both know.
As such, it doesn't feel out of the ordinary, although it is, no one else would ever, Elio's lithe but he's still flesh and muscle and bone, when Lucifer gets up on his elbows with a harshly muttered you, oh, his back swaying beneath Elio's front. Groaning at the motion, Elio simply follows, lets himself be swayed too, lets himself be lifted, keeping grounded by the knees and cock buried so deep in the other man, they're one. They move as one. Oh. Oh. It's like they're flying, a bit, a little bit. His hips strain to move, but he stays still another long moment. Lucifer's turning his face towards him, begging to be kissed, so Elio stretches his neck and presses his half-open, panting mouth against the other man's, takes his lips, pushes his tongue in between them, slick and soft and hungry. He's in him, all ends now. He's...
With a deep groan, he reaches up with one arm, now that Lucifer's carrying the brunt of him, and slips his hand into the man's hair, cupping the back of his head, cradling it as he kisses him, deep, wet. His wing is moving with the rest of his back and Elio lets his free hand slip over the feathers of it, near his shoulders where they're more down-like and soft. He doesn't rub at them, rather he just gently slides his fingers in and out between them, caressing each feather individually as he finds them, blind, preoccupied, busy having Lucifer from all sides.
Only then does he slowly pull his hips back, sliding out halfway, the friction making him pull out of the kiss breathlessly. ] I feel you. I - [ Their lips slide over each other, hot, slightly swollen.
Elio pushes inside again, a little bit harder, a little bit more forceful, but still slow, still controlled. Pulls out, slow, pushes in, slow. ]
[ Oh, there he comes, oh, lips and tongue and fuck, it's so good, it's bloody perfect. Eyes falling shut again, Lucifer leans into the kiss hungrily, giving Elio space to take his mouth for a couple of seconds before giving back, slipping his tongue past his lips and tasting him, filling him out in turn. His arse feels incredibly stretched, obscenely so, and he loves it, loves the way the other man keeps still despite the way it makes his own muscles tremble from exertion. Just like that, from this moment, they're perfectly, utterly in sync and the feeling persists even as Elio runs his fingertips over his feathers, even as he starts pulling out, panting breathlessly against Lucifer's lips.
When the other man slides back inside, Lucifer meets him with a small thrust backwards, just giving him a sense of completion and affording himself the perfect - angle - oh, there. Ah. His lower body's on fire, his balls heavy and tight against his body. Groaning, he lowers his head again, pushing his feathers into Elio's hand. Resting his weight on his elbows again, he keeps his arse up and his body receptive, following Elio's slow pace with his hips, small backwards thrusts. His cock slides against the mattress with each movement and oh, he's actually... pretty close already, that's...
When he speaks, his voice is completely breathless, too, an auditive mirror of Elio's own. ]
And you. You.
[ He gasps. Pushes back. Lets him in. It's just the two of them right now, here, no one in the sky above, no one on the ground. ]
[ He wants to whine when Lucifer's head lowers back onto his arms, he feels seventeen years old again and bereft, pretty much, he wants to have his mouth back, his lips, his tongue. He wants... Oh, but oh, the way Lucifer moves against him, thrusting himself back onto his cock, giving him that perfect sense of completion, tight and slick and hot, getting his own prostate worked in turn. Elio moves after him as he shifts, adjusts his angle and aims right for it on the next thrust, harder yet, deeper, faster, too, because he's only human, unlike Lucifer who's so much more, who's everything. Elio's just human and he can't... anymore... he needs...
His hand slips from the man's hair to his shoulder, grabs him hard as he leans his whole face in against the side of Lucifer's neck and quickens his thrusts, even, steady rhythm, his body slapping against the other man's backside at intervals, their muscles working in perfect sync. They're one body, really. They're not two people anymore. They're sharing. Given and taking in equal measure.
You are everything, Lucifer replies, sounding like wonder and want.
Elio groans, hard, brushing his whole palm over the other man's wing now, slow downward strokes while his hips snap forward, faster and faster and faster and he's going to jump in a moment, he's going to fly and fall, but falling isn't quite so scary anymore when you've got wings on you. If he's everything, he's more than human and these wings are his wings as well.
There's going to be no falling anymore, when you think about it. None at all. ] Thank you. [ A hoarse, shaky whisper. ]
Thank you, thank you, thank - oh.
[ They're three words, you are everything, and they mean the exact same thing, don't they? ]
[ Elio picks up the pacing, his whole palm brushing through Lucifer's feathers and his cock pushing into him, the urgency growing plainer and plainer. Thank you he says, again and again, until he's so lost in it that he can't get the words out and Lucifer smiles shakily while he works himself back on Elio's cock, pleasure shooting through him at every thrust. He can feel the other man leaning into him, letting him carry his weight and it's so lovely, all of it, he can't remember ever...
No, not ever.
Gasping, partially from the revelation of it all, partly from the way Elio happens to positively pound his prostate at the next in-stroke, he finally just lets himself take it, take it, whatever this is. Whatever any of it means. He thinks about Elio on his balcony that first evening, lost and distanced from the world, falling by his own admission. He thinks about carrying him skywards, about putting his Devil face against his shoulder and getting everything back. Then, with a drawn-out moan, he's there, spending himself harshly over the sheets, his arsehole contracting again and again around Elio's cock. It goes on forever, seemingly, and for just a second, he's afraid he's actually taken off from the bed, feeling weightless all over, lights bursting behind his eyelids.
Outside, the sky's lighting up above the lake. He can't see it, obviously, with his eyes closed but he can sense it because it's his, like the stars and the glittering dust scattered between them. It's aurora polaris, purple and green, fractions of sunlight echoing off certain layers, particles, in the atmosphere. Ugh. Sure, sure, he's an angel - if not a very good one - and when he has a really, really great orgasm, it's a proper, cosmic phenomenon. Fuck off. Honestly.
Besides, he's fairly certain he might in fact be dying, his body pulling him through his climax, his muscles shaking along with his wings.
[ He turns his head slowly, staring unseeingly at the big window panels that show the sky, the stars, midnight's fallen and he isn't really seeing any of it, because his body is lost from the world and there's just the pleasure surging through him at every forward thrust, the tightness of Lucifer's body accepting him in turn and Lucifer working himself onto him in time. They're playing each other, they're playing, they're... Then, Lucifer comes, strangled moan, long and hard and his asshole clenches rhythmically around Elio's cock as his climax breaks on him and Elio moans, too, only seconds later, working himself into him again and again and again while he spends himself. It takes forever, it doesn't stop and outside the windows, Northern Lights flash across the sky, pulsing in time with Lucifer's body and Elio remembers the pier, he remembers the lights at night, sitting in Lucifer's arms and looking out over LA from the safest possible distance.
Then, after what feels like literal forever, his muscles quite simply give and he collapses down between Lucifer's wings, trembling slightly, both him and the wings, honestly, breath tumbling out of him in pants. He's still inside him. It'll only be a moment and he'll lose hardness and slip out, but until then, they're still sharing, it's still his. All of him. Everything Lucifer is. Wings and Northern Lights and those three words he gave him, freely.
You are everything.
Running both his hands now up Lucifer's shoulders, caressing the sweaty, burning hot skin there, thumbs brushing over what he can grasp of his upper arms, folded beneath the other man's chin, Elio turns his face back in against the side of Lucifer's face, stubble and jawline and earlobe. He sighs, murmurs: ]
Let me stay here for a while.
[ On your back, he means, here, between your wings, halfway inside of you.
And let me stay, he means, maybe more importantly, in your life. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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After wriggling his ass in Elio's general direction and Elio's smile widening in response, Lucifer joins him in bed, slipping under the covers and all but entangling them from the get-go, legs, one arm held out in invitation and Elio would never decline. He would never decline any invitation Lucifer's willing to extend to him, because he knows how little the man, the Devil, gives of himself. Anything he does give is by definition a ticket into the deep, and Elio's grown up by the Ligurian Sea, he's not a bad swimmer. A bad diver. He's willing. So, he slips up to him, pressing himself up against his side and nuzzling his face in against the side of his neck, just below the jut of his jawline, stubble against his forehead, pulse beneath his lips, it's perfect. Glancing upwards, inclining his head only minimally, because it's really very nice like this, Elio tells him, words slow, careful. Precious. ]
There's a berm near my parents' summer house where Monet painted some of his work. We have the reproductions hanging around the hallways, they're beautiful. [ Shifting a little bit, he pushes away from Lucifer's neck and actually looks up at him more fully. It's not just a tale of his own spot in heaven, before Oliver, during Oliver, but never after. It's an open invitation, to meet the other man halfway on his. ] If you want to come, I'll show you the place.
[ Lucifer's arm is strong and lean, wrapped around him and Elio pushes back against it, feels the muscle, skin, bone there. Breathing in, then out deeply, he licks his lips and realizes he's just suggested the first stop on their... adventure, Lucifer called it. Sounds better than vacation.
Adventures you quit your job over. Which Elio just did earlier today, didn't he? ]
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Also, there's something about Elio that just... well. The other man simply seems to lend himself to it, doesn't he, with how he's always so freely physical, the way he seems to love the proximity without ever being greedy or bothersome about it. The perfect recipe for a snuggler, surely. Lucifer's not complaining.
He puts his chin on top of Elio's head and breathes him in for a moment before replying. ]
You've taken me there several times already, I believe.
[ He still remembers waking up in the morning with the scent of the nearby waters, the grass and the sunlit dust seemingly fresh in his mind. It's odd, actually, how Elio used to dream about him. How he'd called him, in his sleep, and merged them on a subconscious level. If Lucifer had been a bit more like Amenadiel, he probably would've attempted to sort out the whys of it all - the none-working mojo, the dreams, the vulnerability - but alas, he didn't get the brains in the family. He got the looks, thank Dad.
So, he simply nods against Elio's head and tightens his grip around him a little. ]
Seems fitting.
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[ The last word's a contemplative sound while he's briefly reminded of the dreams he used to have about Lucifer, Lucifer in that house, Lucifer outside of it, Lucifer by his side, taking his apricots from him like gifts. The other man's arm tightens around him and Elio thinks about how he's never had dreams quite like them before, equal parts wish fulfillment and predictions. Will they pick the last apricots off the trees when they get there this time, there should still be some ripe. Will they sit on Anchise's bench? Lie in his old bed? Will they... He pauses, huffs out a breath that's almost a laugh and reaches up to place his hand flatly on the middle of Lucifer's chest, just slowly dragging his palm downwards, curving his fingers slightly, like he's playing the piano. ]
I'll make sure not to be asleep when I give you head up against the piano next time, though.
[ A joke. First off, you can't even be half asleep when blowing Lucifer, really, he's too big, his cock requires that you engage your throat more than just any light snoring necessitates. Besides, Elio has never felt more inclined to be awake than with him, experience it all, take it in, literally. Secondly, he remembers that particular dream almost more vividly than the others, not so much for the contents, but for the consequences. How it ended, the phone sex, the tender beginnings of something neither of them knew what would become.
They hardly even know what it is now.
His hand comes to a halt right above Lucifer's navel, index finger circling it lightly, lazily. By accident, mostly anyway, he's found that the other man's somewhat ticklish from the midriff and down across his stomach. Something Elio honestly finds adorable, like a vulnerability anybody could exploit, if they got close enough and Lucifer would let them. The question is, of course, how many he lets.
Elio likes that thought as well. ]
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And those exist, incidentally. Just look at Elio, conjuring up dream scenarios for them to share at night. ]
A piano's quite a sturdy instrument, actually. If you wanted, I'm sure I could --
[ Pause. He inhales, sharply, as Elio's fingers trail over his midriff in a rather too pointed manner, leaving him instantly suspicious. He opens his eyes just as the other man circles his index finger above his navel, his touch just light enough, slow enough, to make his skin twitch. Twisting a little beneath the other man's hand without actually pulling away, he re-focuses on him for a second before slipping his hand into his hair, the angle awkward seeing as Elio's pretty much resting on his arm. All the same, he manages to get a hold - gently, of course - of a few locks.
When he speaks, there's a mock-darkness to his voice, something a little rough, a little fiery: ]
Careful now.
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It makes his cock hard at least halfway. His exhalation is longer, contemplative almost. He lets his eyes run down over Lucifer's features, so familiar at this point, cleft chin, strong jaw, prominent nose.
The depth of his gaze when it meets Elio's. ]
I'm careful.
[ His voice has gone slightly hoarse. Curving his fingers again, just a little, he runs his fingertips lightly across the slight jut of hipbone, left side of Lucifer's stomach, lower ribs, midriff. It's clearly, clearly a tickle this time, although brief. ]
But I also like seeing you react to me, Lucifer.
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He thinks, then, for the briefest moment about Michel trying to take Elio away from him and at the deepest, darkest recesses of his soul, he wishes he'd killed him.
Then, Elio goes I'm careful, his dark eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and power, oh, oh - and he runs his fingertips over the jut of his hipbone, lower ribs, fuck, fuck! Gasping, Lucifer twists again beneath his fingers, curving his hand against the side of Elio's neck without really grabbing him, simply holding onto him a little, balancing. ]
I'll show you reaction, you little miscreant.
[ With a groan, he twists his hips sideways instead, aiming very pointedly for - yes. Ah. His half-hard cock - because yes, indeed, incentive was provided - brushes up against Elio's, the sheets between their bodies sort of adding to the friction. His breath comes out in a huff of air, his head falling back a little against the pillow. Nice. Oh. He keeps thinking about that look in Elio's eyes, the heaviness of it. The promises, inherent to it.
Beautiful. ]
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Rather than removing him, Lucifer twists his hips to the side and pushes his very noticeably half-hard cock up against Elio's through the sheets, the added sensory input almost maddening, the distance, it's too much and Elio wants to be in him, he wants to eat his breath and bite his tongue. Carry his taste at the very back of his mouth. Leaning down, he pushes their mouths together roughly, his own half-open, wet and wanting, tongue running over the slope of Lucifer's bottom lip, not so much in a plea to be let in, but expecting, rather, that he will be.
Lucifer hasn't yet not given him what he wanted, after all. No matter what Michel thought I love you meant in that regard, it's the fine print, not the contract, the contract he and Lucifer have had negotiated for a long time. Maybe even longer than Elio can truly imagine.
Not that Elio kisses Lucifer and thinks about Michel. He kisses Lucifer and pushes himself up a bit further, leaning in over him properly, their shafts sliding over each other at the movement and Elio groans into Lucifer's mouth, running his palm flatly along the outline of Lucifer's chiseled abs, just feeling him out for a moment, no tickling, just... feeling. Sensing how firm and present the other man remains, even after everything. Elio bites his lip, then, just a hint of teeth.
Because he wants to be just as firm and present for him, doesn't he? ]
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In terms of sheer, physical pleasure, it's not the most overwhelming thing he's ever tried. It's something else. With Elio above him, biting his lip, telling him that he wants, that he wants to share what he wants, even, Lucifer realises that they've somehow gone beyond the need for his mojo. That right now, he can ask the other man to tell him exactly what he wants and he will, like he's showing him right now. The thought makes the arousal in his abdomen curl, tight and red-hot.
He runs his hand back into Elio's hair at the back of his head, fingers curling between the strands, holding him without pulling. He looks up at him, his own gaze narrowed. He thrusts upwards, seeking out that long, hot slide of flesh against flesh, his cock fully hard now and definitely sensitive. The friction makes his toes curl a little, even. He pulls out of the kiss, breathing hard against the side of Elio's mouth. ]
What would you like, darling?
[ He runs his free hand lightly up the back of other man's thigh. ]
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What would you like?
Elio licks his lips, they're slick from Lucifer's spit, his own as well, and withdraws just enough to look down at him properly, get a good look at all his features. He realizes that what he wants is something they haven't already explored together which means it goes beyond wings and Devil face. He's been inside Lucifer's ass with his fingers, lots of butt-stuff, really, they both like their prostates, but he hasn't fucked him. He hasn't topped and it honestly hasn't been a problem, but tonight... Tonight, Elio thinks he wants to be the one who gives. In return. For everything Lucifer gives him. Like taking him here. Like going to Italy with him. ]
I want to be your top.
[ His voice sounds a pitch darker than usually, raw. He's breathing slightly shallowly, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Lucifer's mouth before sitting up, kicking off the sheets completely. Baring himself. Elio's always liked topping, he's just had crap luck finding men who would let him and the ones who did would run off and get married in shame afterwards, that kind of fucking luck. It isn't that he's nervous whether Lucifer will turn him down, if he does, they'll do something else, but Elio's showing a new side of himself, all the same, asking. A vulnerable side.
Only seems fair, of course, what with Lucifer being vulnerable for him, too. Isn't that the point? ]
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Tilting his head, he blinks when Elio kisses the side of his mouth, his own still parted slightly. He feels as if there's a kiss right on the tip of his tongue. Elio, however, pulls back and sits up, kicking the sheets away, revealing every gloriously naked inch of his beautiful body. It's interesting, that he'd choose to move. To get himself out of harm's way, right, metaphorically if nothing else.
Lucifer purses his lips. Tempers down the anger boiling underneath (hurt him, they hurt him, why would anyone do that to Elio, why's Hell the hardest punishment available?) and sits up on his elbows before spreading his legs a little, invitingly. ]
Lucky me.
[ He says it without an ounce of irony or sarcasm. His cock's full and hard against his abdomen and just beacuse, he reaches down and fingers it, palming the head and stroking the shaft once, fleetingly. ]
Lube in the top drawer - [ He points at the bedside table on Elio's side of the bed. ] - unless you want to try your luck without.
[ Pause. Re-wind. Oh, no, messy, messy. Vulnerability and badly-lubed anal sex? Hard pass. ]
Actually, I'd prefer you didn't.
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[ He says it with a smile, mostly owing to how relieved he feels that Lucifer just... considers himself lucky, so he says, unironically - not to mention, horny enough at the thought to actually touch himself, putting himself on display, big cock, big hands, it's a really great combination. His own cock jerks a bit. Elio wants to kiss him again at his answer, kiss his neck, the strong stretch of muscle and skin between his collarbones. The heaviness of his shoulders. Instead, he turns towards the bedside table on his own side of the bed, opening the drawer and peeking inside. There's lube enough for an army of anal-fixated cavemen in here, seriously, so he just picks a tube that's unopened and slams the drawer shut, no hanging around. He knows what Lucifer was thinking, it wouldn't be strictly necessary, had he still been invulnerable around him, but anal sex without the proper prep, without the proper lubrication? Not pleasurable at all. Not under any circumstances.
Elio knows, firsthand. Oliver taught him, before running off.
When he turns back around, Lucifer has shifted onto his stomach, giving him another nice view of his ass, the curves of his cheeks, the dark heaviness between his thighs and Elio pauses for a second, just looking him over, just taking in every little detail, mapping him out. He's amazing, really. Elio knew, but being reminded certainly doesn't hurt. He smiles, slow and languid, tossing the tube of lube onto the bed somewhere within reach, but where it won't get in the way when they start moving around, and crawls up behind the other man, lets him feel the slide of his shins against his own, small bump of knee, until Elio's poised above him, back to front. He'll feel the hard length of his cock against his hip, too. Bending his neck, Elio kisses Lucifer's shoulder, just scattering kisses and soft bites along the slope of it while muttering in between: ]
Like I told you, I'm careful. I'll be careful until you're begging me not to be.
[ With one arm, he's holding himself up, his free hand running flat and fingers spread wide down over Lucifer's back, following his spine to the small of it, to where it becomes tailbone and buttocks. ]
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The other man shifts up behind him, a slide of legs against legs and then, lovely, the long, warm length of his cock against Lucifer's hip. He shifts a little in response. When Elio bends down over him, the heat of his body signifying his proximity a split second before they actually touch, he feels suddenly very warm and very safe which is the weirdest sensation he's felt in... quite a while. He frowns. Shuts his eyes and focuses, on the feel of Elio's lips scattering kisses all over his shoulders, soft bites, mm, nice. I'll be careful. Careful. When has anyone ever...
Well, except him, of course.
Except Elio.
He breathes out shakily, his eyes slightly wet near the corners and replies, voice very obviously raw: ]
You always are.
[ He shifts again, just wiggling beneath Elio's weight. His cock's trapped against the mattress and it feels quite good, just sliding his hips forward a little, back, yes, like that. Not really trying to get off, just stirring the warmth in his belly, giving it traction. ]
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There's something slightly miraculous to it, how they read each other and bring out those exact properties, how they see each other beyond all outward appearances, too. ] I know you, love. [ A whisper. It makes him lose his breath a little just to say it out loud and he presses down over Lucifer like that, covers him with as much of his body as he can, from thighs to chest, cock pushing over his skin, leaving a fat trail of precum there as he feels the other man rubbing himself against the sheets beneath them. Elio draws in a deep, harsh breath.
They need slick. ] You feel that, right? [ It means, that I know, you feel it.
Elio pushes off his back halfway, then, supports himself on his arm as he reaches for the lube, unscrewing it quickly in order to fill his palm with the stuff. One-handedly, he smears it all over his fingers as well, glancing down and seeing the way it glitters in the light from the bedside lamps. He gives it a moment to heat up against his skin before reaching down and slipping two wet fingers in between the other man's buttocks, just letting him sense the slide, the steady push of fingertips as they run from his tailbone and down, over the rim of his asshole, rubbing in light circles around it, not much pressure yet, just implications. Because I'm here, I'm yours, you're mine. ]
Tell me how you feel it.
[ His cock jerks and no doubt, Lucifer feels that, Elio shifting forward and burying his face into the thick strands of the other man's hair, mouth against his temple, every breath heavy and moist. Hot. ]
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Does it matter, then?
The tears in his eyes feel hotter now, heavier, and he rubs his face against his forearm to clear them whilst Elio leaves trails of precum against his skin, beautiful, lovely Elio and suddenly, all he really wants is this, right here, this path and where ever it's about to lead. As Elio lubes up his fingers, Lucifer breathes out slowly, evenly, gaze slipping outwards, out towards the lake beyond the cottage, the sky above. It's gone dark, finally. The stars are almost impossibly bright.
I know you, said Elio, and tell me, and there's really nothing else he'd rather do, is there? At the first touch of the other man's fingers between his buttocks, sliding down, circling his arsehole, he gasps, wriggling a little in response. The sensitive nerve endings down there are certainly appreciative - and so's Elio's cock, from the way it's jumping. Eager, aren't we? Indeed. ]
I -
[ He swallows. Tell me how. Eyes falling shut, he focuses on the feel of Elio's fingers, on his weight against his back, the warmth of his proximity. His breath against his temple. Tell me how. He breathes out. Slowly, roughly. Then, gently, his wings furl out from between his shoulders, spread out flatly across either side of the bed, the feathers fanned out slightly. Like an offering. They're shining, too, enough to light up the glass in the windows. When he finally speaks, his voice is breathy from wonder: ]
All over. I feel it all over.
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Elio lifts his head from Lucifer's shoulder, glancing down across the sea of feathers, long tail-like feathers spreading out across the man's ass, tickling Elio's hand where he keeps rubbing at him, circling his asshole, applying pressure, pushing in a little bit more for each circular movement, index fingertip, index and middle finger, dipping, pushing, stretching. He can feel the rim of the other man's asshole give, steadily. He can feel the heat of him, making Elio's cock drip. He rearranges himself across Lucifer's back, more in the middle now, the head of his cock leaving trails along the top of Lucifer's thighs. It almost looks like the wings are his and maybe they are. It's only been a day since Elio was the one to offer, to fix them when they looked sad and now he gets that gesture back, shining ever so brightly. ]
I want to make you feel as wonderful as you look, like this. I want to make you feel this amazing.
[ It's a soft murmur against the back of Lucifer's neck, Elio shifting up a bit to give his hand the right amount of force, not too much, but just enough, as he pushes his index finger inside of him in one, long, even slide of pressure, slight stretch. He's burning hot as always, precisely that, burning. Elio breathes out harshly and lines up his middle finger as well on the out-stroke after a few shallow thrusts, letting Lucifer feel just the presence of the fingertip along the stretched rim, the promise, his index buried in him to the knuckle. Not in a way that's new, but it feels new regardless.
Lucifer's never given him his wings in return, after all. Slowly, achingly slowly, he starts fucking him. ]
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When Elio pushes his index finger into him, he moans, pushing back just a little against his hand. It's not enough, obviously, but it's good, it's clearly exactly as it should be. The stretch of his rim goes straight to his balls, the long flight feathers along his back fanning out to either side a little and it's not that his feathers are connected to his arse somehow, all right, it's just that they're connected to his spine and... uh. Yes. Semantics. His next exhalation is a huff as he shifts his hips upwards, trying to angle Elio's thrusts deeper, just, slightly more... slightly... ]
Oh, that's good. [ Pause. He wets his lips, then says, voice a little too thin: ] You think I look wonderful?
[ And maybe, just maybe, his feathers actually fluff up a little in appreciation. Goodness, he's ridiculous. Good thing he can't see them all that well from this angle. ]
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[ Elio smiles slightly as he says it, knowing if there's one man in the universe who won't take offense to being called beautiful over handsome, he's having him here, beneath him, now. Lucifer just likes compliments, that simple. Elio's the same, though Lucifer's no doubt better at accepting them, even his feathers respond favorably. Just look at them. Turning his head aside, cheek resting along the slope of spine, the back of the other man's neck, Elio fucks into him with one finger, long, slow thrusts, not quite deep enough, staying clear of his prostate very deliberately. He feels the other man push back against his hand, feels his feathers actively fan out to give him room and oh, oh, that's magnificent, and he has to fight himself not to rub against his thigh, not to stimulate himself too much, because he'd just come and not yet. Not yet, please.
He'll probably have to speed things up just a little bit, a tiny bit, he needs, right? They both do.
His breathing sounding shallow and fast in his own ears, Elio licks his lips, finally adding his middle finger as well, letting it slip in on a soft in-stroke, pushing in smoothly, deeply, to the knuckles this time, hooking both fingers into Lucifer slightly at the next pull-out. Lucifer asked for this, also wordlessly, they communicate by way of skin and feathers currently, and Elio is always happy to provide attention to the other man's prostate, honestly.
He likes the sounds he makes when he does. Pushing in against his back, Elio is breaking into a pant now, arm working as he fucks him in even, hard movements, soon adding a third finger. ]
I think you sound beautiful, too.
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Ah!
[ He gasps, pleasure surging through his lower body every time Elio hits that perfect angle and the stretch feels even better now, especially once he adds his third finger. Lucifer groans, pushing his forehead down against his lower arms, his wings actually curving upwards a bit in response, moving with his shoulders. It's a good thing Elio's basically right in the middle of that whole affair or he might be getting knocked over the head at regular intervals. Unsexy, that. Unsexy.
Elio thinks he sounds beautiful, though, so none of that really matters.
He tilts his head sideways a little, glimpsing the outline of Elio's upper body behind his shoulders, his dark curls. He breathes him in. His scent makes him feel even fuller. ]
If you'd like - [ Another prostate hit, another gasp. Oh. Oh, yes. ] - you should get inside.
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Please know...
[ Blindly, but still carefully, no yanking, he slips his fingers out from Lucifer's ass and reaches for the lube again, gets his palm sticky with whatever's left in order to slick himself up. Superficial strokes, that or he's going to burst, and he aligns himself with him, front to back, pelvis against ass, cock slipping up between his buttocks, over his stretched hole, open. Elio breathes out, in, out. ]
This is exactly how I want you.
[ This, meaning - wings, puffy feathers, blush, little gasps as he pleasures him, the feel of his body giving and taking from him. That's how Elio likes him best.
Biting his lip, he grabs his cock by the base and runs the head, wet and sensitive, up and down the cleft of his ass a few times, just to feel him out. Then, he seriously can't take it anymore and leans in over him, feels Lucifer's back broad and strong against him, pushing in slightly. He's not as big as Lucifer, a plug isn't necessary, though he wants to give him that experience back sometime, but it's still tight and the fit narrow and it takes a slight angling of his hips to get the head to pass, push inside, glide into him.
Elio stills, breathing heaving. There are wings on either side of him, Lucifer's hair smells like him and his ass is furnace-hot and tight and when he buries into him the rest of the way, it's extremely slow, like he's savoring every inch.
He is. ]
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Unless, for some reason, he's been dreaming about fucking what, an ostrich? A swan? Messy.
His thoughts might've easily derailed - there's a slightly hysterical edge to them, he realises, which might have to do with... nerves? Oh! - but then, Elio presses the slick head of his cock up between his buttocks, dragging it down the cleft and over the sensitive rim of his arsehole and all he can really think is now and give it.
Then, when the other man actually presses himself inside, he realises why. The nerves. Lips parting in a soundless gasp, he remembers to relax and does so, forcibly. He breathes out as Elio pushes in and gradually, inch by inch, he's suddenly so full that he can't focus on anything else. Oh. Oh. Elio's so hot and lovely against his back and his cock feels equal parts big and long, buried in his arse. Throbbing hot. Fuck. ]
You - oh...
[ He swallows heavily. Then, slowly, he pushes himself up onto his elbows, back swaying. He lifts Elio right up along with him, of course, because Elio might feel big and heavy and all-consuming inside of him but he's actually quite light, quite easy to carry, and he fits so perfectly there along his back between the arches of his wings, raised now on both sides, feathers brushing against Elio's shoulders. Groaning, he turns his head slightly, enough to feel his jaw sliding over the side of the other man's face. Kiss me, it means, and as he twists a little bit to the side to allow the angle, his corresponding wing lowers with his shoulder, flattening out against the bed.
Making room here, too. ]
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As such, it doesn't feel out of the ordinary, although it is, no one else would ever, Elio's lithe but he's still flesh and muscle and bone, when Lucifer gets up on his elbows with a harshly muttered you, oh, his back swaying beneath Elio's front. Groaning at the motion, Elio simply follows, lets himself be swayed too, lets himself be lifted, keeping grounded by the knees and cock buried so deep in the other man, they're one. They move as one. Oh. Oh. It's like they're flying, a bit, a little bit. His hips strain to move, but he stays still another long moment. Lucifer's turning his face towards him, begging to be kissed, so Elio stretches his neck and presses his half-open, panting mouth against the other man's, takes his lips, pushes his tongue in between them, slick and soft and hungry. He's in him, all ends now. He's...
With a deep groan, he reaches up with one arm, now that Lucifer's carrying the brunt of him, and slips his hand into the man's hair, cupping the back of his head, cradling it as he kisses him, deep, wet. His wing is moving with the rest of his back and Elio lets his free hand slip over the feathers of it, near his shoulders where they're more down-like and soft. He doesn't rub at them, rather he just gently slides his fingers in and out between them, caressing each feather individually as he finds them, blind, preoccupied, busy having Lucifer from all sides.
Only then does he slowly pull his hips back, sliding out halfway, the friction making him pull out of the kiss breathlessly. ] I feel you. I - [ Their lips slide over each other, hot, slightly swollen.
Elio pushes inside again, a little bit harder, a little bit more forceful, but still slow, still controlled. Pulls out, slow, pushes in, slow. ]
Fuck, you feel like everything.
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When the other man slides back inside, Lucifer meets him with a small thrust backwards, just giving him a sense of completion and affording himself the perfect - angle - oh, there. Ah. His lower body's on fire, his balls heavy and tight against his body. Groaning, he lowers his head again, pushing his feathers into Elio's hand. Resting his weight on his elbows again, he keeps his arse up and his body receptive, following Elio's slow pace with his hips, small backwards thrusts. His cock slides against the mattress with each movement and oh, he's actually... pretty close already, that's...
When he speaks, his voice is completely breathless, too, an auditive mirror of Elio's own. ]
And you. You.
[ He gasps. Pushes back. Lets him in. It's just the two of them right now, here, no one in the sky above, no one on the ground. ]
You are everything.
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His hand slips from the man's hair to his shoulder, grabs him hard as he leans his whole face in against the side of Lucifer's neck and quickens his thrusts, even, steady rhythm, his body slapping against the other man's backside at intervals, their muscles working in perfect sync. They're one body, really. They're not two people anymore. They're sharing. Given and taking in equal measure.
You are everything, Lucifer replies, sounding like wonder and want.
Elio groans, hard, brushing his whole palm over the other man's wing now, slow downward strokes while his hips snap forward, faster and faster and faster and he's going to jump in a moment, he's going to fly and fall, but falling isn't quite so scary anymore when you've got wings on you. If he's everything, he's more than human and these wings are his wings as well.
There's going to be no falling anymore, when you think about it. None at all. ] Thank you. [ A hoarse, shaky whisper. ]
Thank you, thank you, thank - oh.
[ They're three words, you are everything, and they mean the exact same thing, don't they? ]
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No, not ever.
Gasping, partially from the revelation of it all, partly from the way Elio happens to positively pound his prostate at the next in-stroke, he finally just lets himself take it, take it, whatever this is. Whatever any of it means. He thinks about Elio on his balcony that first evening, lost and distanced from the world, falling by his own admission. He thinks about carrying him skywards, about putting his Devil face against his shoulder and getting everything back. Then, with a drawn-out moan, he's there, spending himself harshly over the sheets, his arsehole contracting again and again around Elio's cock. It goes on forever, seemingly, and for just a second, he's afraid he's actually taken off from the bed, feeling weightless all over, lights bursting behind his eyelids.
Outside, the sky's lighting up above the lake. He can't see it, obviously, with his eyes closed but he can sense it because it's his, like the stars and the glittering dust scattered between them. It's aurora polaris, purple and green, fractions of sunlight echoing off certain layers, particles, in the atmosphere. Ugh. Sure, sure, he's an angel - if not a very good one - and when he has a really, really great orgasm, it's a proper, cosmic phenomenon. Fuck off. Honestly.
Besides, he's fairly certain he might in fact be dying, his body pulling him through his climax, his muscles shaking along with his wings.
Oh. ]
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Then, after what feels like literal forever, his muscles quite simply give and he collapses down between Lucifer's wings, trembling slightly, both him and the wings, honestly, breath tumbling out of him in pants. He's still inside him. It'll only be a moment and he'll lose hardness and slip out, but until then, they're still sharing, it's still his. All of him. Everything Lucifer is. Wings and Northern Lights and those three words he gave him, freely.
You are everything.
Running both his hands now up Lucifer's shoulders, caressing the sweaty, burning hot skin there, thumbs brushing over what he can grasp of his upper arms, folded beneath the other man's chin, Elio turns his face back in against the side of Lucifer's face, stubble and jawline and earlobe. He sighs, murmurs: ]
Let me stay here for a while.
[ On your back, he means, here, between your wings, halfway inside of you.
And let me stay, he means, maybe more importantly, in your life. ]
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