[ 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
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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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? ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]