[ 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. ]
[ Moments later, he feels Elio speeding up his thrusts, everything turning a tad more desperate, a tad more focused, too. When he comes, Lucifer's arse is still clenching slightly in the aftershocks of his climax and he feels him so acutely, just then, the pulsing of his cock, the width and girth of it. He breathes in very slowly, the air trembling down his lungs, while Elio spends himself inside him. Has anyone actually done that before? He doubts it. Lucifer rarely bottoms at all, to men. It's hard to find anyone who'd take it for what it is.
Elio does, though. Elio, who collapses on top of him between his wings, his breath hot and damp against his skin and his beautiful hands solid against his upper arms. When he speaks against the side of his face, Lucifer angles his chin into the line of his jaw, his soft, overheated skin. ]
For as long as you like, darling.
[ His voice is mostly air, out of breath as he is. His wings are spread out wide on either side of him, tips brushing over the floor lazily. Elio's still inside of him, it'll be another little moment yet before he slips out. It's nice. Lucifer gives him a little squeeze for good measure and it actually makes his arsehole feel sore, wow, wonders of wonders. Still vulnerable, then, still open. In every possible way, as it were.
He frees one hand, finally, and reaches up, stroking his fingers through Elio's hair. He digs in a little until he can feel the heat of his skin, his scalp and further down, the back of his neck.
Then, he simply stays like that and lets the moment run to its natural conclusion. ]
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no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.
no subject
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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Elio does, though. Elio, who collapses on top of him between his wings, his breath hot and damp against his skin and his beautiful hands solid against his upper arms. When he speaks against the side of his face, Lucifer angles his chin into the line of his jaw, his soft, overheated skin. ]
For as long as you like, darling.
[ His voice is mostly air, out of breath as he is. His wings are spread out wide on either side of him, tips brushing over the floor lazily. Elio's still inside of him, it'll be another little moment yet before he slips out. It's nice. Lucifer gives him a little squeeze for good measure and it actually makes his arsehole feel sore, wow, wonders of wonders. Still vulnerable, then, still open. In every possible way, as it were.
He frees one hand, finally, and reaches up, stroking his fingers through Elio's hair. He digs in a little until he can feel the heat of his skin, his scalp and further down, the back of his neck.
Then, he simply stays like that and lets the moment run to its natural conclusion. ]