[ Elio touches the peach in a way that makes his body remember, his cock twitching a little in his trousers because it's easily excitable and also, the peach happens to be bloody arse emoji for a reason, right? Accepting it from Elio, their fingers brushing very briefly, he weighs it in the palm of his hand for a couple of seconds. It'll do as I tell it, says Elio and it makes something tighten a little in Lucifer's chest, that notion of certainty. The idea that home is something that stays with you, leaves you a trail to follow, even when you've long since sought out different pastures.
It's a nice idea.
He blinks when Elio pushes at his hand with his fingertips, the warm-soft feel of his skin making his own tingle. Like that, Elio has his ways of showing impatience, excitement - sometimes, there's something a little boyish about it, a little young and fresh. Another thing you have to wonder how he's managed to salvage, what with all the shit they've put him through, his various exes.
Looking at Elio, he raises one eyebrow in challenge. Okay, let's see. How does it taste, this home of his, this dream world?
He raises it to his lips and, keeping his gaze locked on Elio's, bites into it. He doesn't make any attempts to get pretty about it. The juice immediately bursts from the fruit, running down his chin and getting his stubble sticky. The taste is lovely, very warm and sweet and sunny. Groaning in pleasure, he eats half of the peach in one go, its golden insides glistening wetly in the sunlight.
Chew, chew, swallow. Pause.
Then he smiles, widely, with peach pretty much all over his chin and lips. ]
You know what? I think it's the best peach I've ever had.
[ Elio knows it'll happen, even before Lucifer locks his gaze on him and raises his eyebrow in challenge, he knows how it's going to play out, why do you think he touched him at all? They're staring straight at each other as Lucifer bites into the peach, the skin breaking and the juices bursting from its insides, getting his chin all soaked, his stubble shining with it, his lips... Oh. Elio can't take his eyes off of him, following the trickle of peach juice as it smears most of the lower half of his face, he eats so messily, it's like an invitation. Don't tempt me, Elio wants to tell him, knowing what Lucifer would say in return, don't let yourself be tempted.
But he's letting himself. He wants to. He wants so badly, his whole lower body's tight and hot and he shifts from foot to foot a bit helplessly, just eating up Lucifer's face with his eyes. Half the peach is gone in no time, the rest wet and soft between his fingers, golden, flesh-like. It's the best, Lucifer tells him, smiling widely, his lips, his chin drenched in peach juices, I've ever had, emphasis on "ever".
The Devil doesn't lie, you know. He's telling the truth, if nothing else then the truth he wants Elio to hear.
Elio doesn't care about hearing, much, however. ]
Let me taste. [ His voice is breathless, completely so, and he steps closer, closer until he's pretty much in the other man's face, well, his chin - height differences taken into consideration. It's perfect, though, his chin's glistening wetly and Elio stretches his neck, sticking his tongue out slowly, balancing himself with both hands against Lucifer's upper arms. Then, he follows the cleft of his chin with the tip of it, feeling the tickle of his stubble, like the sensation of a cat licking you, tasting the faint remnants of peach on him.
And then, he catches the other man's chin between his lips, just letting it rest softly on his tongue and bottom lip, sucking the rest of the juices off noisily, leaving his spit there instead. Slowly, Elio releases him, trails his lips upwards until they're sliding over Lucifer's lips, licking at him greedily, little lapping motions of his tongue, until he stops tasting like peach and only tastes like himself once more.
He draws back a little bit, only a very little, little bit. ] Please eat the rest.
[ Oh, he recognises that look in Elio's eyes - he's seen something similar on thousands of human faces throughout time, however, it's also very particular to the person in question and with Elio, it's like small suns brewing in the dark brown of his irises. The heat is intense, focused, and scorching in the best of ways. He'd know, of course. He's seen the whole spectrum of fire.
Thus, when the other man steps up to him, closer and closer, Lucifer simply stays still and lets him, the taste of the peach fading a little while the heat in his groin intensifies. He doesn't have even the slightest inclination towards drying off the juices because he's got a feeling - yes - oh, there you go, darling. He breathes out heavily as Elio leans up, hands on Lucifer's shoulders for balance, and licks his chin, lapping at it like a hungry little kitten and Lucifer smiles, his bones moving beneath the other man's mouth.
When he sucks on his lips, he watches him down the length of his nose for a second before he closes his eyes, just taking in the sensation of it. Wet points of pressure, the scent of him, warm and close and comforting. Feeling the other man draw back, Lucifer instinctually reaches out and curls his non-peach-holding hand around his waist, though he doesn't stop him from putting a minimum of distance between them.
He opens his eyes. Meets Elio's, his own darker now, heavy with arousal.
Then, he sucks the rest of the peach into his mouth in one go, using his tongue to wedge out the stone. He pushes his fingers between his lips - slowly - and fishes it out, dropping it on the grass next to them. The rest of the fruit, he chews up and swallows, taking care to make the last movement, in particular, just slightly pronounced. Down it goes. Like so many other things, right?
He keeps his eyes on Elio, gaze boring into his all throughout. ]
[ Their eyes lock, the other man's got an arm around him, and his gaze is heavy with arousal, Elio sure his own looks much the same, really, he feels hot and bothered and suddenly very, very hard, while Lucifer stuffs his mouth full again, fishing out the stone of the peach with his fingers and dropping it off to the side before chewing, swallowing, oh. Oh. Like a cock's there, passing, going down. His lips are shining once more, peach juices everywhere and this time, it's not slow or careful, Elio more or less throws himself at him, pushing their mouths together, running his tongue over the other man's bottom lip, licking off traces of fruit, then biting it, because honestly, the soft flesh of his lip feels not very different from biting into a peach, except he's gentler, of course. Lucifer burns and bleeds around him now, grows sore and comes away hurting, Elio would never not honor that. Never.
Slipping his tongue into his mouth, he strokes the tip of it along the slope of Lucifer's tongue, teases him back into his own mouth, welcomes him warmly, angling his head for better access. They kiss each other deeply and it's good, it's intense and starving and horny and while his hands come up to slide into Lucifer's hair, Elio suddenly remembers that summer. Not for Oliver, Oliver's past and gone, but for the peach in his room, that moment's intense pleasure of fucking something that was neither female nor male, but had every characteristic of both. Soft, wet holes, that kind of thing. He gasps into Lucifer's mouth and pulls out of the kiss abruptly, stroking his fingers along the curve of his skull once before stepping back and looking up at the branches above them.
Then, he looks back at Lucifer, lets his gaze wander down his front. ]
I think I want you stickier.
[ A small smile as he reaches up and starts plucking the lowest-hanging peaches off the tree, feeling them for the right ripeness, ending up with five or six in his arms. ]
I think I want you naked and glistening, sucking peach juice off my fingers.
[ Elio basically jumps him and Lucifer's ready, catching him and parting his lips, giving him ample opportunity to take what he wants, peaches and all. When the other man invites him inside, he pushes past his lips and takes him back, in turn, sharing the hot taste of summer fruits and thinking that his strange little kinship with humans started like this, once, back when the world was just a little younger. He groans when Elio nibbles his lip, not just at the slight sting of teeth against his skin but also the carefulness. Elio's always been capable of hurting him, after all, in different ways. And he's always been mindful of it.
He's getting well and truly hard, now, his cock pushing at the front of his trousers. When Elio draws back and looks up at the branches, Lucifer very nearly whines at him because that's neither here nor there, what's the tree got to do with --
Oh.
Sticker? Naked?
He watches, eyes going wide for a second before they narrow, while Elio plucks down handfuls of peaches from the tree. He's got a skilled eye for spotting the right ones, it seems, but then again, in certain ways, this garden is his. It seems to know it, too.
With a wicked smile, Lucifer gets himself naked because, you know, as you please. Off comes the vest. Shoes and socks. The shirt, the trousers. Within less than a minute, he's butt-naked in the sunlight, his cock hard against his abdomen, and Elio's still dressed which somehow makes the whole thing feel even more acutely arousing. Lucifer doesn't question these things. It's pleasure! The most natural, most effortlessly generous aspect of existence.
He takes a step closer, the grass crinkling beneath his bare feet. Licks his lips, slowly, faint traces of peach still lingering in the aftermath of Elio's attentions. ]
[ You never need to tell Lucifer to get naked twice. Elio has always liked that about him, how he puts himself on display so effortlessly, so unashamedly, it's inspiring. Elio feels less inclined to have any sense of shame whatsoever around him, no real self-doubts or uncertainties. Things like that get annulled with Lucifer somehow. Because it's all just so natural. Watching the other man undress in a matter of - he doesn't clock him, but he'd say less than a minute which is impressive considering the amounts of clothes he was wearing, Elio picks down another couple of fruits, just to ensure he won't have to get up midway for more, his arms brimming with them, huge, pinkish orange things, before bending down and dropping them in a pretty pile at his own feet. Within easy reach.
Everything within easy reach, apparently, as Lucifer smiles at him and steps closer, his cock so big and hard against his abdomen that Elio's own feels immensely trapped in his trousers at the sight. He ignores it, for now. Soon, he wants to say to it, soon you'll go the same way as the peach did before, just look at his mouth, his throat. Instead he looks at the other man in whole for a moment, takes in his build (tall, strong, breadth of shoulders, narrow waist, hipbones slightly protruding) and the way his skin shines in the sunlight already, no peach juice yet.
Elio wants him so much, he's losing his breath over it a little. He's wanted him from the beginning, but they've finally reached a stage where he can have him, too. Where they can have each other. And here, of all places. He blinks, a surge of emotion welling in his chest, making him swallow hard. ]
My turn.
[ Holding Lucifer's eyes while the other man licks his lips, taking whatever fruit bits Elio's missed, Elio scoops a peach up in his hand and lifts it to his mouth, biting into it with the exact same amount of abandon as Lucifer had a moment ago. The juices burst, onto his tongue, down his chin, coating his lips, although he only bites a small hole in the peach, really, just large enough to stuff his fingers inside and get the stone out, throwing it off to the side. His fingers are glistening with juices now, too. So he holds up his hand, fingers bent except for his index and thumb. Like that, Elio walks up to him, stiffly, keeping the bitten peach in his other hand, he reaches up and traces Lucifer's lips with first his sticky thumb, then his sticky index. ]
[ Elio looks him over and Lucifer basks in it, in the way his skin looks visibly warmer, the way he loses his breath a little. He's always been quite vain, it's that fickle combination of being objectively good-looking along with the way it feels when people want him, when they project their own desires onto him and make him feel like he's one with them already. It's always been a great feeling, inherently so. With Elio, it feels like coming back.
He tries not to think about that too hard because the implications...
Well.
In any case, it's Elio's turn to give him a show and Lucifer watches, attention rapt, as the other man bites into his peach. He doesn't eat it, exactly; merely chews a hole in it and stuffs his fingers inside (oh, oh, that wet sound of the flesh parting, juice dripping onto the ground, his fingers sinking inside if it), pulling out the stone and throwing it away. He's got peach all over his lips. Down his chin. It makes his skin look golden.
When Elio closes the distance between them again, Lucifer's breathing grows just a bit heavier, a little less even, and when he traces his lips with his thumb and index finger, his toes actually curl from the shock of arousal surging through his body. With a groan, he curls his hand around Elio's wrist and holds it still, looking at him for another couple of seconds before locking his gaze on his fingers. Leaning down, he sucks Elio's thumb into his mouth, curling his tongue around it and tasting peach, skin, salt, wetness and warmth. Oh, it's good. It's marvelous.
Cleaning his thumb greedily, he releases it and moves on to Elio's index finger, giving it the same treatment. He sucks it into his mouth to the first knuckle, a deep, contented rumble echoing from his throat. ]
[ It's the rumble, first and foremost. No, it's the sensation of tongue curling around his finger. No, it's the way he looks, sucking Elio's fingers inside his mouth, lips tight around the first knuckle, focus on him completely and utterly, they're just the two of them, Elio and Lucifer in the orchard, peach juice smeared out over Elio's face, staining his shirt, he's a mess.
He feels a mess, the best kind of mess there is.
Groaning deep in his throat, Elio feels the force of Lucifer's hold on his wrist, how careful he is even like this, with his strength. Elio can still easily move, he can twist his wrist as he turns his hand over slightly and pushes his finger deeper inside Lucifer's mouth, let's him take it to the second knuckle, to the base, before he pulls out, repeats, fucks him with it. It's not hard or dominating, but it's steady. Strong. Even. Wanting. ]
The noises you make, Lucifer. You really do sound beautiful.
[ Another, smaller inward thrust of his finger and another, smaller yet, and Elio finally withdraws his hand, he needs both of them for what he's got planned, after all, watching the way they're shining from Lucifer's spit in the late afternoon sunlight. A part of him wants to suck them dry now, eat Lucifer's saliva, too, like he ate the peach, but he doesn't. Instead he pushes up against the other man's front, the fabric of his shirt seeming coarse in comparison to the other man's naked skin, softer, smoother, and raises his peach-holding hand a bit, running the wet, half-eaten fruit along the slope of one collarbone, then along the other. A little juice drips from it, leaving trails down the middle of his chest. Elio follows the droplets with his eyes, bends his neck and catches one on his tongue, following the wet trickle back up.
From that position, bent over a little at the waist, he looks up at Lucifer and pretty much squeezes the peach, soft and yielding, golden flesh, out across his chest, a right waterfall of peach juice cascading down over his skin, over his nipples, stomach further down. Elio heaves in a hard breath, throws the mostly useless shell of a fruit that's left over one shoulder and leans in, catching one of Lucifer's nipples between his lips, lapping at it hungrily with his tongue. ]
[ Elio takes his cue, of course, like Lucifer took his, minutes prior. He pushes his finger into his mouth, along the slope of his tongue, before pulling it out again, pushing it back. It's a sweet little imitation of fucking and Lucifer's quite appreciate. The feeling of Elio's finger going in, going out, it goes straight to his cock and makes it twitch a little, like it's starting to feel neglected. He ignores it, for now. Instead, he sucks on Elio's finger until it disappears, leaving his mouth feeling slightly empty in its wake. More than that, though, he feels touch-deprived. Staring at Elio, thinking about grabbing his hand and taking it right back to where he wants it - whether that's in his mouth or on his cock, he'd probably leave to chance - he pauses when the other man pushes up against his front. With him being clothed still, the friction of fabric against Lucifer's naked skin adds another interesting layer to the experience and he lets himself indulge in it, his breathing quickening a fraction.
When Elio runs the peach along his collarbones, the breeze catches the wetness on his skin, making it prickle. The contrast is nice, just a little surprising, and Lucifer watches him curiously as he licks a run-away droplet off his chest. Then, oh, he squeezes the fruit again, harder this time, and it bursts open, juice running in sugary rivulets down his front. Nipples. Stomach, crotch... ]
Oh, that's -
[ He gasps when Elio licks his nipple, making it feel hard and sensitive, the contrast of cold and hot making his head spin. He pushes in against the wetness, into Elio's mouth, before pulling him tightly up against his body. His cock presses in against Elio's trousers, his clothed abdomen. With a low growl, he reaches for his trousers, working them open with quick, practiced hands. ]
I think I should have that. Don't you?
[ His voice is a low mutter as he reaches into Elio's briefs, palming his cock, feeling out its girth. He's got juice on his fingers still and it makes Elio's shaft sticky in places, along with the fabric of his underwear. ]
[ Feeling Lucifer push in against his tongue with his whole chest, Elio's face and shirt getting sticky from juice with how the other man is pressing himself into the wetness of his mouth over his nipple, Elio groans louder and angles his head, teasing the small nub with just the tip, then soft lapping motions of the overside of his tongue, tip again. He continues that for a little while, just working him with the utmost focus, until Lucifer reaches down and starts undoing his pants, slipping his hand into his briefs and palming his cock like that. Oh. Oh. Elio gasps. His hips jerk forward and he pushes himself eagerly against the palm of the other man's hand, rubbing up against him. He's so hard, Lucifer's made him so hard and that one isn't on him, Lucifer. That one's all on you. All you.
Somewhat reluctantly, he draws back from Lucifer's chest, his face shining with peach juice and his shirt stained in big splotches, but the other man looks golden and glowing, doesn't he, exactly as he ought to, so Elio has absolutely no regrets. He glances down at where Lucifer's feeling him out, sounding wanton and a little bit dangerous from it, Elio's breathing shallow and fast in response, his eyes hooded when he raises his gaze to look at his face. I think I should have that. Elio shakes his head, it's not a rejection, instead he follows it up with - ]
I think it's yours already.
[ And licking his lips, the sweet taste of peach everywhere now, Elio reaches down and pushes his pants halfway down his thighs, not like a signal to start, but as an invitation. Whatever Lucifer wants to do, he's welcome to it. It's his, really. Elio's eyes stay fixed on the other man's throughout. His cock feels throbbing and his balls tight between his thighs, apparently fruit sex does something to him.
Or it's the way they're in his mother's orchard, unafraid and open, having the (late) summer romance that Elio should've had fifteen years prior. Maybe it's that. Yes, he thinks it is and it makes the same feelings swell right back up. This time he lets them show, biting his lip and blinking against the wetness at the corners of his eyes.
Slowly, carefully, he lifts both hands and runs his fingers through Lucifer's hair. An unapologetic caress. ]
[ When Elio draws back from his chest, there's peach juice pretty much all over the place and it makes the other man look radiant, like he's stepping out of his old skin, scrubbing off some invisible grime that Lucifer hadn't known was there. It's a fantastic look on him. When he pushes his pants down, giving Lucifer more room to work, Lucifer in turn simply nods at the his words - because yes, thank you, he'll take that - and slips his hand out of his briefs. Then, in a fluent motion, he drops to his knees in front of him and it's a thrilling thing to do, for Elio, right here, beneath the open sky. Lucifer doesn't get much from the idea of discovery - after all, gasp, shock, the Devil's engaging in a spot of debauchery, old news, it's been depicted hundreds of times by dirty, religious nutjobs which kind of takes the fun out of the whole deal. No, it's not that. He's fine with a bit of exhibitionistic play but that's all it is. Play.
The look on Elio's face, however, combined with the feeling of this place - the notion of familiarity, of re-claiming - is powerful in a way that feels ancient, an old story repeating itself in that way humans have. Despite the shortness of their individual lives, they manage to draw lines back and back and back; it's a fascinating thing. He's in love with it a little, though he's never truly been in love with them. Not before.
He looks up at Elio, the sunshine flickering in his eyes. Then, he pulls his cock free, lifting his briefs out of the way. He licks his lips hungrily and leans in, folding his hand around the base of Elio's cock and angling it outwards a little for better access. Eyes closed, he presses his tongue flatly in against the underside and draws it upwards, pushing in against the veins beneath the head a little. The taste of cock is instantaneous and his own jumps against his thigh. He palms it with his free hand, just sort of gripping it, that small spark of friction making his breath catch in his throat.
He repeats the motion, licking a wet trail up the underside, then continuing right up to the head, swirling his tongue over it slowly. ]
[ It's not that he thinks about Oliver, ever, when he's fucking Lucifer. There's no comparison that Oliver would win and thus, really, no comparison to draw at all, but as Lucifer drops to his knees in front of him, freeing his cock and folding his fingers around the base of it, tipping it outwards, easing his access, he still remembers, just for a moment. He remembers Monet's Berm, kissing the other man in the sunlight there, in his secret, happy place, and how Oliver had kissed him back to fend him off before rejecting him altogether. Elio remembers all that, he still remembers it fifteen years later like it were yesterday. He remembers it, because Lucifer isn't like that at all. He doesn't hold back to keep him at an arm's length, giving him only enough to spur him on, running towards the chasm. He presses his tongue to the underside of Elio's cock and drags it upwards, twice, paying heed to the veins just beneath the head, because they're sensitive and what's sensitive is worth the attention, too. Elio bites his lip again, holds it between his teeth while forcing his hips to stay still, although there's a tremble to it, his muscles tightening, tensing. The friction is amazing, wet and hot and it's Lucifer on his knees in front of him.
Whom does a king bow down to? It's not a thrilling thought, Elio doesn't get his kicks from seeing others beneath him, but he does feel a certain sense of softness from realizing that Lucifer is in fact taking a kneel before him, probably in the only way he ever will. He doesn't withhold that from him. Even that he gives, freely.
Then, the other man swirls his tongue over the head of his cock and Elio forgets approximately everything he was thinking, the thought just lost, gone, it doesn't matter anyway. Hearing himself whimper, loudly, his fingers in the other man's hair tighten, digging in along his scalp, fingertips hard and unapologetic. He doesn't lead his head anywhere, but he keeps him close, leaning in over him a bit. ]
Don't hold back. [ It's a hoarse whisper. ] Please -
[ Give me all of it, it means. The peaches at his feet, the shade of the tree, the house, the garden, himself... Yes, Elio thinks, pleasure making him feel light-headed, so it might be a somewhat delirious thought, Lucifer belongs with him as well, doesn't he? Along with his you are everything's and as long as you like's.
[ Elio whimpers, his hands in Lucifer's hair tightening noticeably and he sort of loves the little twinges of pain in his scalp, the notion of physical cause and effect. Sure, he knows about consequences, doesn't he, he's the bloody original failure, the very first in all of God's existence to wage a war and lose it. But it's sweet, like this. When it's just a matter of two people, sharing their spaces. He's about to give Elio's cockhead another wet swirl with his tongue when the man adds please in this hoarse, breathless voice and his chest aches with it, knowing that this scenario...
He's not great with human emotions, generally speaking, but with Elio, he's grown fairly fluent over the past many, many months. He senses the emotional weight between them, realising all too clearly that it isn't directly tied to him, seeing as he's never actually been here, on his knees, with sticky peach juice all over his fingers and lips. Even the dreams didn't take them here and for the first time, he thinks he might even understand why.
Don't hold back, says Elio.
Lucifer angles his head a little, parts his lips and sucks him in, head first, his cock feeling massive and wide in his mouth. He takes a quick breath through his nose and simply dives in all the way, letting Elio's cock glide along his tongue to the back of his throat and in, until it blocks him out and he can feel the other man's pubic hair against his lips. He stays like that, just letting him feel the tightness for a moment, slipping his hand from around his cock to his arse and stroking his buttocks soothingly before grabbing on.
[ And the other man doesn't, doesn't hold back at all, actually. Instead he sucks Elio's cock onto his tongue, taking it all the way back to the farthest back of his mouth, then further yet as he swallows him to the base and leaves him there. Lodged in his throat, the tightness of his inner walls, the wetness of his mouth, the soft pliancy of his tongue pressing up against him. Elio sucks in a sharp breath and can't quite control the twist in his lower body as Lucifer grabs onto his ass, holding him still, inside, keeping him in place. The need for friction and motion is making him almost lose it, the need to travel that journey one more time, one more time to get inside Lucifer's body. He starts stroking the other man's hair rhythmically while his hips tremble and tense up as he manages to only struggle a tiny bit against Lucifer's hold. Everything's so warm, the other man's throat so tight.
Elio's eyes are welling up. Just standing there and taking it, he simply looks around, from the house to the gardens and the pool, the many trees in the orchard, peaches and apricots and pomegranate, a kind for every season. Blinking desperately, he groans, just as much to cover up the shakiness of his breathing, but also because Lucifer feels fantastic, he's amazing, Elio loves the way there's room for him there, if nowhere else, always.
So, he tells him that, voice quivering and wet. ]
I feel so at home in you.
[ Also, he's close. Can they maybe call this an orgasmic rambling and leave it at that? Please move, please let him come like this and forget himself a moment.
[ He's clinging to him, is Elio, from the way he's stroking his hair to the wet edge in his voice, the quivering quality of it. Lucifer takes another half-second just to keep him lodged in his throat, thinking about home and how it means so many different things to different people while to him, for so long, it's meant mostly just one thing, no nuances, no take-backs. It's beautiful, having Elio here, like this, knowing what it means to him. What it might, in turn, mean to Lucifer one day, if he manages to dig through all the garbage he's piled on top of his heart.
Realising that he's about to choke himself - which, oh, novel! - he eases back slowly, Elio's cock sliding along his tongue and out, popping into his mouth. His tastebuds are exploding with different impressions, all of them related to sex, to Elio's cock, to arousal and sweat and musk and precum. He groans heavily and looks up at Elio before he gives him the friction he's no doubt dying for, sucking around his length roughly, cheeks hollowing.
Then, he takes him right back down, pushing along his buttocks with his hand. His own cock is spurting precum against his thighs and he's fairly certain it'll take him minutes to hit the edge once he gets to it. It's fine. For once, he's not really in any rush to sate himself.
Instead, he holds Elio as close as he can, takes him in (takes him home). He's pretty much drooling all over the place by this point and it's a good thing he's naked or he'd be worried about his suit. As it is, he just lets it all drip into the grass, onto his knees and thighs. The taste of the peaches is gone, now, but the scent lingers in the air around them, heavy and sweet. ]
[ For a long moment, it seems forever, Lucifer just lets him stay inside his throat, just lodged there, his cock squeezed from all sides at once, then he slowly eases back and slides Elio into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks on his length, around the head and Elio feels his eyes pretty much roll up, the moan completely unrestricted this time. Loud and echoing between the trees. Oh. Oh -
The shift happens even more smoothly this time, the way Lucifer sucks him right back down into the tight constraints of his throat and Elio stops fighting it now, lets his hips dig forward, burying himself to the base, mostly because his balls are drawing up harshly and he's coming within the span of a second, oh, yes! And his fingers curl in Lucifer's hair, grabbing him, holding him, cradling him as he spends himself far down his throat, balls drawing up against his body and the sun warm on his skin and everything smells like peach and sweat and sex and it's so beautiful. Being home feels so beautiful.
His cock is pulsing and his muscles are trembling and he forgets himself, as he wanted, forgets Oliver, forgets then and now at the same time. Elio can hear himself gasping for breath, half-slumped in over Lucifer's head and he drops his hands to his shoulders, waiting dutifully for the other man to draw back in his own time, no rushing that process, that's rude and uncomfortable, neither of which Lucifer deserves.
He deserves thanks.
Elio catches his breath finally and smiles down at him. His voice, when he speaks, is slightly thin and airy. Shaky. He reaches up and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, then he drops it to the side of Lucifer's face and cups his jaw gently, his stubble still sticky from peach juice. ]
You didn't ask me what I wanted this time, but you still gave it to me.
[ He feels Elio pushing towards the edge as he pushes into his throat, just that physical emphasis, the way he buries himself to the base. Then, his cock pulses between Lucifer's lips, on his tongue, as the other man spends himself down his throat, cradling his hair, his head, as he comes. For just a moment, it's so intense that he feels like they might both be floating, a bit like last night actually, but he senses the ground beneath his knees, still, and the cool grass swaying against his skin. They're here, in Elio's Italy, and this belongs to them, it seems, which feels incredibly fitting.
Right now, right here, he can almost pretend that there aren't anyone - or anything - in the world that might challenge the claim they have on each other.
Peace, he thinks, feeling wild with it.
When Elio stills against him, he pulls off his cock very gently, taking care not to get him with his teeth on the way. His jaw aches like something distinctively unholy and he loves it, loves this reminder that Elio can actually mark him like this, make his body remember if only for a little while. He's old, after all. He's ancient. He's got tons and tons of pictures in his memory but aches and scars lend a weight to them that goes beyond comparison.
You still gave it to me, Elio tells him, wiping his eyes and cupping his jaw, looking sweet and sated and untamed. Lucifer draws back a little further, sinking down onto his haunches and looking up at him. The implications... oh. He's been meaning to do that since the very first time they met, hasn't he? And the past many months, he been wanting to do it, knowing full well that without his mojo, he doesn't stand a lot of chances keeping people satisfied. After all, without that, he's just...
He's just...
But he isn't, here. Not right now. He smiles, widely, looking up at Elio and feeling so incredibly pleased with the both of them that he can't say a lot, except: ]
[ It's that wild smile again, the one Elio has learned to associate with him, the way that his features seem a little too broad and a little too wide (and a little too perfect) to be human.
I did, didn't I, he just says, looking pleased with himself and Elio wants him to have this moment, he wants him to have it exactly as it befits him best, so he doesn't say anything for another half minute, stepping back and looking towards his pile of peaches. Looking back at Lucifer, he finds him on his haunches, his cock so hard it must hurt, precum dripping from the head. Elio kneels in the grass next to his fruits and nods towards the grass on his other side. ]
If you want, you should lie down. I'll take care of you, too.
[ He wants to suck Lucifer off as well, he wants them to mirror each other today, he wants them to walk the same path just for a little while, at least. So as he waits for Lucifer to decide whether lying down in the grass and be pleasured pleases him, he toes out of his shoes, socks, takes off his pants and underwear, leaving it in a pile next to the other pile, the peach one. He reaches for the peach on top of it, closing his fingers around it and raising it to his face slowly, looking back over at Lucifer. Elio bites into it, less show, more genuine enjoyment this time, sucking some of the juice into his mouth and swallowing it thickly, before pushing two fingers into the fruit and removing the stone. It glitters orangey in the sunlight, at this hour it's beginning to look like evening a little bit. They can go take a shower afterwards, then have dinner. They won't even have to cook, Mafalda's left them homemade pizza, local ingredients.
Elio lies down as well, on his side, waiting. He looks Lucifer over slowly, eyes narrowing as he licks his lips, only partly because his lips are now wet and drenched in peach juice again. That should feel nice, right? Lucifer should tell him how nice it feels. ]
[ His cock actually bounces at Elio's words because yes, please, it's been ignored for what feels like way too long. His smile turns a little sharper as he watches Elio lie down in the grass next to his peach piles, thinking he might know where he's going with that - and yes, oh, there he goes. Biting into the peach, juice slipping down his chin and then, his fingers, as he removes the stone in that way he has. That dirty, sexy way. Lucifer's eaten a lot of peaches throughout his existence and he's never seen anyone take out the stone like that, like finger-fucking, except it's a bloody fruit.
It goes straight to his balls.
He watches Elio for a moment longer, following the path of his tongue as he licks his lips. Then, he lies down next to the other man, on his side, spreading his thighs a little because, you know, make room and all that. He leans in and licks the juice off Elio's lips greedily, grabbing the back of his head and burying his fingers in his hair. As he presses his tongue between the other man's lips, the taste of peach mixes with what's already on his tongue - precum, the scent of sex and cock. There's probably not a lot of cum, sadly, with how far down his throat it went but the rest is there.
When he draws back again, his own lips wet and swollen, still, from the blowjob, he gives Elio's head a little nudge downwards though he doesn't actively push or anything, he's not a douche. But he does make it pretty clear where his mind's at - after all, his balls are uncomfortably tight at this point, it's like someone's put them in a vice (which, no, he's tried that more than once and it honestly doesn't tickle his anything) and the sight and taste of Elio's wet lips... if he were to reach down and touch himself, he's fairly certain the memory alone would set him off within seconds. ]
Please, could you...
[ He trails off. Swallows, then licks his own lips, sending Elio a hopeful little eyebrow-waggle to compensate. ]
[ It pleases him, it seems. Because he lies down, on his side, thighs spread, showing himself off, the whole long length of him and Elio gets caught almost off-guard, so busy he is staring at him, as Lucifer then leans in to lick his lips clean, pushing into his mouth, letting him have a taste of himself, precum and spit and sex and he loses his breath a little at it, gasping for it as the other man draws back, nudging at his head, nicely, sure, but definitely needy too. Please, he says, and Elio would give him everything at that one word. He'd give him the world, not that he's in any position to, but he would, oh, he would. If he could.
The eyebrow waggle is just encouragement, really. He smiles. ]
You're so hard for me, anything else would be cruel.
[ And I'm not cruel, he implies, not towards you.
Crawling downwards, he positions himself in parallel with Lucifer's legs, his strong thighs, knees, shins, pushing his half-open mouth to his stomach, licking a trail downwards over his skin until the other man's cock is more or less poking him in the chin. He's kept the peach in his hand, safe and protected from too much squeezing by his palm, curved around it. Now, he reaches up, balancing himself on his other elbow, and twists it open by the bite mark he's left in it one-handedly, feeling the flesh part wetly and he hums as he pushes the wide slit in the fruit to the base of Lucifer's cock, keeping it closed around the girth of him, well, half of it, he's big, and stroking upwards, feeling the juices make the slide easy and smooth. They leave him shining, beautiful. Elio bends his neck and pushes his tongue to the same trail, following it upwards towards the head, more or less giving Lucifer a very extended handjob. The sweet taste of the fruit mixing with Lucifer's darker scent, his taste, the way he feels enormous and warm on his tongue might just get him hard again.
Once he gets to the head, Elio starts dragging downwards with the fruit, keeping off the other man's glans and instead focusing on the shaft, on letting him feel how mushy and soft the insides of the peach are getting against him, around him. Though, to not leave his cock head unattended, because as he said, he isn't cruel like that, he swirls his tongue over the glans, dipping into the slit a little bit, just keeping all of him nicely stimulated.
Not quite a rhythm yet, but there's the promise of one. ]
[ He chuckles at Elio's words, the sound dying in his throat as the other man makes his way down his body, his muscles tensing up in anticipation. Oh, but he's craving it - just, the delicious rawness of his throat, the lingering aftertaste of Elio's cock, it's making him feel all kinds of impatient. Shifting a little without actively wiggling about, he mentally prepares himself for the feeling of a hot, wet tongue against his cock. Elio usually starts from the base so that's -- ]
I - oh! What --
[ Gasping, he actually startles at the feeling of something decidedly wet but cool, something soft and squishy and - against the shaft of his cock. He looks down, eyes wide, as Elio leans in and licks the juice off his shaft towards the head. His breath is more or less stuck in his throat at the sight and it basically whooshes out of him, very undignified, when the other man makes a downwards stroke with the fruit (the fruit!) and swirls his tongue over the head of his cock, pushing into the slit. The scent of peach explodes in the air between them and his cock jerks, pitifully, while his mind tries to assemble all the impressions into something approaching a coherent whole.
Elio, Elio's mouth on his cock - and the fruit, the wet, maddening slide of it, and the juice feels a little bit sticky as it pools over his balls, too, Elio's saliva watering it out somewhat. Trembling, Lucifer settles down on his hip and watches, enraptured, his cock glinting golden and slick, Elio's lips mirroring it, like they're fucking one and the same. He can't. It's - ]
Perfect. Oh, Elio, you're - [ He swallows convulsively, reaching down to run his hand mindlessly through the other man's curls, pulling at them a little, watching them bounce back against his head. ] - you're spoiling me.
Like Elio's the perfect one here when Lucifer's the one shining from fruit juices and looking as divine as he is. Spoiling him? No, he really isn't, because spoiling signifies undeserved and Elio thinks he deserves all this, he deserves the way Elio's hand starts smearing the poor peach up and down his cock, long, hard strokes, juices sliding down his length, pooling over his balls. He deserves the way he eases the head of Lucifer's cock into his mouth, just tightening his lips around the very tip of it, sucking a little bit. He deserves the way that, after four or five strokes, the peach all but falling apart by the end, Elio withdraws his hand to squish it between his fingers, draining it for the last of its juices and stroking the other man's cock, just with his palm now, once he's discarded the fruit, slick and wet from the residue. He deserves all that.
Once he's fallen into a rhythm with his hand, Elio opens his mouth more and slides Lucifer's cock halfway in, letting a good couple of inches rest on his tongue and the head press against the very back of his throat. He doesn't try deep-throating him this time, he just gives him that sense of slide, pulling back, off, pushing down, over, off, over, off, his hand working the rest of his length at a matching pace. He tastes like arousal and precum. He tastes like sex. He tastes like peach and it's a beautiful mix, heavy and sweet at the same time.
Groaning lightly, Elio thinks that he wants to give Lucifer this, he wants to give him this gift, this pleasure, this happiness, in turn for everything Lucifer's given him, everything he's been, everything he's done. He'd say it wasn't him, of course, he'd say Elio did it all on his own, chose to do it, but it'd be the one lie he'd ever tell, of course and Elio would forgive him, Lucifer has his reasons for actually believing that.
This isn't payback, it's a reward. Freely given. ]
[ It's the wettest, stickiest and hottest handjob-combined-blowjob he's ever had and that's saying something, for someone who's been around (and, literally, been around) since before the dawn of time. Lucifer groans and keeps his hips still for as long as he can stand which honestly isn't more than few minutes at best. Elio's giving him such a lovely slide, taking his cock into his mouth, letting him feel the tightness of it, the wetness. The juice running down his shaft feels cool and the scent is sweet, magnified by the trees around them, the orchard in its late-summer dress-up.
With a barely articulated curse, he finally just holds onto Elio's head and returns the rhythm, sliding his hips inwards a little, pulling back, fucking the other man's mouth and staring at him all throughout, his muscles trembling from need. Gradually, the heat in his groin intensifies, grows and grows, until suddenly, he's hardening on Elio's tongue and his balls draw up, explosively. He moans, loudly and without restraint, pushing inwards a little more, just enough to feel the narrowness of Elio's mouth and the opening behind it.
He comes, the scent of peaches and cock and cum heavy in his system. He doesn't stop looking at Elio, doesn't stop taking him in, from the way his lips look, curved around his shaft to the sticky glimmer of juice on his skin, on Lucifer's own. They've become a part of this place, he thinks. Elio's made it so. They've left their imprints and been imprinted, in turn.
Breathing raggedly, fingers loosening in Elio's hair, he finally throws his head back and pants, open-mouthed, the echoes of his climax making him feel afloat.
[ After a few minutes, Lucifer abandons himself and starts fucking into Elio's mouth, little inward thrusts, sliding himself over his tongue, far into the back of his mouth cavity and Elio sucks, pushes his tongue up against him, meets him eagerly, giving back, giving back. And when he finally comes, his cock hardening on Elio's tongue and his hips pushing himself just that tiny bit further back where he'll feel him, Elio takes and takes and takes, swallowing him hungrily, savoring the combined taste of salty cum and sweet peach juices, whatever little remains and hasn't been watered out completely. He doesn't think he'll ever forget this taste.
He waits until he's sucked the last of his orgasm out of him, then Elio pulls off Lucifer's cock slowly, looking up at him, at the way he's thrown back his head and is just existing at the heart of this place, where the wild things grow and where they can be completely unbothered and free. No Chloe Deckers. No Michels. No falls. No Hells. This is theirs, he thinks and crawls up until he's aligned with the other man completely, their feet lightly entangled by the ankles and Elio inches in against Lucifer until his head can come to a rest against his now very sticky chest. He smells sweet, almost sickeningly so. Likewise, Elio's tongue is still sticky with cum, salty and dark.
Kissing Lucifer's jawline, feeling his stubble against his swollen lips, Elio thinks he's never been closer to Heaven than this. Of course he doesn't say that out loud. ]
For as long as you like.
[ He mirrors Lucifer's words back at him, the ones he'd said the night before and was that really only last night? What he means is, you can stay here.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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It's a nice idea.
He blinks when Elio pushes at his hand with his fingertips, the warm-soft feel of his skin making his own tingle. Like that, Elio has his ways of showing impatience, excitement - sometimes, there's something a little boyish about it, a little young and fresh. Another thing you have to wonder how he's managed to salvage, what with all the shit they've put him through, his various exes.
Looking at Elio, he raises one eyebrow in challenge. Okay, let's see. How does it taste, this home of his, this dream world?
He raises it to his lips and, keeping his gaze locked on Elio's, bites into it. He doesn't make any attempts to get pretty about it. The juice immediately bursts from the fruit, running down his chin and getting his stubble sticky. The taste is lovely, very warm and sweet and sunny. Groaning in pleasure, he eats half of the peach in one go, its golden insides glistening wetly in the sunlight.
Chew, chew, swallow. Pause.
Then he smiles, widely, with peach pretty much all over his chin and lips. ]
You know what? I think it's the best peach I've ever had.
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But he's letting himself. He wants to. He wants so badly, his whole lower body's tight and hot and he shifts from foot to foot a bit helplessly, just eating up Lucifer's face with his eyes. Half the peach is gone in no time, the rest wet and soft between his fingers, golden, flesh-like. It's the best, Lucifer tells him, smiling widely, his lips, his chin drenched in peach juices, I've ever had, emphasis on "ever".
The Devil doesn't lie, you know. He's telling the truth, if nothing else then the truth he wants Elio to hear.
Elio doesn't care about hearing, much, however. ]
Let me taste. [ His voice is breathless, completely so, and he steps closer, closer until he's pretty much in the other man's face, well, his chin - height differences taken into consideration. It's perfect, though, his chin's glistening wetly and Elio stretches his neck, sticking his tongue out slowly, balancing himself with both hands against Lucifer's upper arms. Then, he follows the cleft of his chin with the tip of it, feeling the tickle of his stubble, like the sensation of a cat licking you, tasting the faint remnants of peach on him.
And then, he catches the other man's chin between his lips, just letting it rest softly on his tongue and bottom lip, sucking the rest of the juices off noisily, leaving his spit there instead. Slowly, Elio releases him, trails his lips upwards until they're sliding over Lucifer's lips, licking at him greedily, little lapping motions of his tongue, until he stops tasting like peach and only tastes like himself once more.
He draws back a little bit, only a very little, little bit. ] Please eat the rest.
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Thus, when the other man steps up to him, closer and closer, Lucifer simply stays still and lets him, the taste of the peach fading a little while the heat in his groin intensifies. He doesn't have even the slightest inclination towards drying off the juices because he's got a feeling - yes - oh, there you go, darling. He breathes out heavily as Elio leans up, hands on Lucifer's shoulders for balance, and licks his chin, lapping at it like a hungry little kitten and Lucifer smiles, his bones moving beneath the other man's mouth.
When he sucks on his lips, he watches him down the length of his nose for a second before he closes his eyes, just taking in the sensation of it. Wet points of pressure, the scent of him, warm and close and comforting. Feeling the other man draw back, Lucifer instinctually reaches out and curls his non-peach-holding hand around his waist, though he doesn't stop him from putting a minimum of distance between them.
He opens his eyes. Meets Elio's, his own darker now, heavy with arousal.
Then, he sucks the rest of the peach into his mouth in one go, using his tongue to wedge out the stone. He pushes his fingers between his lips - slowly - and fishes it out, dropping it on the grass next to them. The rest of the fruit, he chews up and swallows, taking care to make the last movement, in particular, just slightly pronounced. Down it goes. Like so many other things, right?
He keeps his eyes on Elio, gaze boring into his all throughout. ]
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Slipping his tongue into his mouth, he strokes the tip of it along the slope of Lucifer's tongue, teases him back into his own mouth, welcomes him warmly, angling his head for better access. They kiss each other deeply and it's good, it's intense and starving and horny and while his hands come up to slide into Lucifer's hair, Elio suddenly remembers that summer. Not for Oliver, Oliver's past and gone, but for the peach in his room, that moment's intense pleasure of fucking something that was neither female nor male, but had every characteristic of both. Soft, wet holes, that kind of thing. He gasps into Lucifer's mouth and pulls out of the kiss abruptly, stroking his fingers along the curve of his skull once before stepping back and looking up at the branches above them.
Then, he looks back at Lucifer, lets his gaze wander down his front. ]
I think I want you stickier.
[ A small smile as he reaches up and starts plucking the lowest-hanging peaches off the tree, feeling them for the right ripeness, ending up with five or six in his arms. ]
I think I want you naked and glistening, sucking peach juice off my fingers.
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He's getting well and truly hard, now, his cock pushing at the front of his trousers. When Elio draws back and looks up at the branches, Lucifer very nearly whines at him because that's neither here nor there, what's the tree got to do with --
Oh.
Sticker? Naked?
He watches, eyes going wide for a second before they narrow, while Elio plucks down handfuls of peaches from the tree. He's got a skilled eye for spotting the right ones, it seems, but then again, in certain ways, this garden is his. It seems to know it, too.
With a wicked smile, Lucifer gets himself naked because, you know, as you please. Off comes the vest. Shoes and socks. The shirt, the trousers. Within less than a minute, he's butt-naked in the sunlight, his cock hard against his abdomen, and Elio's still dressed which somehow makes the whole thing feel even more acutely arousing. Lucifer doesn't question these things. It's pleasure! The most natural, most effortlessly generous aspect of existence.
He takes a step closer, the grass crinkling beneath his bare feet. Licks his lips, slowly, faint traces of peach still lingering in the aftermath of Elio's attentions. ]
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Everything within easy reach, apparently, as Lucifer smiles at him and steps closer, his cock so big and hard against his abdomen that Elio's own feels immensely trapped in his trousers at the sight. He ignores it, for now. Soon, he wants to say to it, soon you'll go the same way as the peach did before, just look at his mouth, his throat. Instead he looks at the other man in whole for a moment, takes in his build (tall, strong, breadth of shoulders, narrow waist, hipbones slightly protruding) and the way his skin shines in the sunlight already, no peach juice yet.
Elio wants him so much, he's losing his breath over it a little. He's wanted him from the beginning, but they've finally reached a stage where he can have him, too. Where they can have each other. And here, of all places. He blinks, a surge of emotion welling in his chest, making him swallow hard. ]
My turn.
[ Holding Lucifer's eyes while the other man licks his lips, taking whatever fruit bits Elio's missed, Elio scoops a peach up in his hand and lifts it to his mouth, biting into it with the exact same amount of abandon as Lucifer had a moment ago. The juices burst, onto his tongue, down his chin, coating his lips, although he only bites a small hole in the peach, really, just large enough to stuff his fingers inside and get the stone out, throwing it off to the side. His fingers are glistening with juices now, too. So he holds up his hand, fingers bent except for his index and thumb. Like that, Elio walks up to him, stiffly, keeping the bitten peach in his other hand, he reaches up and traces Lucifer's lips with first his sticky thumb, then his sticky index. ]
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He tries not to think about that too hard because the implications...
Well.
In any case, it's Elio's turn to give him a show and Lucifer watches, attention rapt, as the other man bites into his peach. He doesn't eat it, exactly; merely chews a hole in it and stuffs his fingers inside (oh, oh, that wet sound of the flesh parting, juice dripping onto the ground, his fingers sinking inside if it), pulling out the stone and throwing it away. He's got peach all over his lips. Down his chin. It makes his skin look golden.
When Elio closes the distance between them again, Lucifer's breathing grows just a bit heavier, a little less even, and when he traces his lips with his thumb and index finger, his toes actually curl from the shock of arousal surging through his body. With a groan, he curls his hand around Elio's wrist and holds it still, looking at him for another couple of seconds before locking his gaze on his fingers. Leaning down, he sucks Elio's thumb into his mouth, curling his tongue around it and tasting peach, skin, salt, wetness and warmth. Oh, it's good. It's marvelous.
Cleaning his thumb greedily, he releases it and moves on to Elio's index finger, giving it the same treatment. He sucks it into his mouth to the first knuckle, a deep, contented rumble echoing from his throat. ]
no subject
He feels a mess, the best kind of mess there is.
Groaning deep in his throat, Elio feels the force of Lucifer's hold on his wrist, how careful he is even like this, with his strength. Elio can still easily move, he can twist his wrist as he turns his hand over slightly and pushes his finger deeper inside Lucifer's mouth, let's him take it to the second knuckle, to the base, before he pulls out, repeats, fucks him with it. It's not hard or dominating, but it's steady. Strong. Even. Wanting. ]
The noises you make, Lucifer. You really do sound beautiful.
[ Another, smaller inward thrust of his finger and another, smaller yet, and Elio finally withdraws his hand, he needs both of them for what he's got planned, after all, watching the way they're shining from Lucifer's spit in the late afternoon sunlight. A part of him wants to suck them dry now, eat Lucifer's saliva, too, like he ate the peach, but he doesn't. Instead he pushes up against the other man's front, the fabric of his shirt seeming coarse in comparison to the other man's naked skin, softer, smoother, and raises his peach-holding hand a bit, running the wet, half-eaten fruit along the slope of one collarbone, then along the other. A little juice drips from it, leaving trails down the middle of his chest. Elio follows the droplets with his eyes, bends his neck and catches one on his tongue, following the wet trickle back up.
From that position, bent over a little at the waist, he looks up at Lucifer and pretty much squeezes the peach, soft and yielding, golden flesh, out across his chest, a right waterfall of peach juice cascading down over his skin, over his nipples, stomach further down. Elio heaves in a hard breath, throws the mostly useless shell of a fruit that's left over one shoulder and leans in, catching one of Lucifer's nipples between his lips, lapping at it hungrily with his tongue. ]
no subject
When Elio runs the peach along his collarbones, the breeze catches the wetness on his skin, making it prickle. The contrast is nice, just a little surprising, and Lucifer watches him curiously as he licks a run-away droplet off his chest. Then, oh, he squeezes the fruit again, harder this time, and it bursts open, juice running in sugary rivulets down his front. Nipples. Stomach, crotch... ]
Oh, that's -
[ He gasps when Elio licks his nipple, making it feel hard and sensitive, the contrast of cold and hot making his head spin. He pushes in against the wetness, into Elio's mouth, before pulling him tightly up against his body. His cock presses in against Elio's trousers, his clothed abdomen. With a low growl, he reaches for his trousers, working them open with quick, practiced hands. ]
I think I should have that. Don't you?
[ His voice is a low mutter as he reaches into Elio's briefs, palming his cock, feeling out its girth. He's got juice on his fingers still and it makes Elio's shaft sticky in places, along with the fabric of his underwear. ]
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Somewhat reluctantly, he draws back from Lucifer's chest, his face shining with peach juice and his shirt stained in big splotches, but the other man looks golden and glowing, doesn't he, exactly as he ought to, so Elio has absolutely no regrets. He glances down at where Lucifer's feeling him out, sounding wanton and a little bit dangerous from it, Elio's breathing shallow and fast in response, his eyes hooded when he raises his gaze to look at his face. I think I should have that. Elio shakes his head, it's not a rejection, instead he follows it up with - ]
I think it's yours already.
[ And licking his lips, the sweet taste of peach everywhere now, Elio reaches down and pushes his pants halfway down his thighs, not like a signal to start, but as an invitation. Whatever Lucifer wants to do, he's welcome to it. It's his, really. Elio's eyes stay fixed on the other man's throughout. His cock feels throbbing and his balls tight between his thighs, apparently fruit sex does something to him.
Or it's the way they're in his mother's orchard, unafraid and open, having the (late) summer romance that Elio should've had fifteen years prior. Maybe it's that. Yes, he thinks it is and it makes the same feelings swell right back up. This time he lets them show, biting his lip and blinking against the wetness at the corners of his eyes.
Slowly, carefully, he lifts both hands and runs his fingers through Lucifer's hair. An unapologetic caress. ]
no subject
The look on Elio's face, however, combined with the feeling of this place - the notion of familiarity, of re-claiming - is powerful in a way that feels ancient, an old story repeating itself in that way humans have. Despite the shortness of their individual lives, they manage to draw lines back and back and back; it's a fascinating thing. He's in love with it a little, though he's never truly been in love with them. Not before.
He looks up at Elio, the sunshine flickering in his eyes. Then, he pulls his cock free, lifting his briefs out of the way. He licks his lips hungrily and leans in, folding his hand around the base of Elio's cock and angling it outwards a little for better access. Eyes closed, he presses his tongue flatly in against the underside and draws it upwards, pushing in against the veins beneath the head a little. The taste of cock is instantaneous and his own jumps against his thigh. He palms it with his free hand, just sort of gripping it, that small spark of friction making his breath catch in his throat.
He repeats the motion, licking a wet trail up the underside, then continuing right up to the head, swirling his tongue over it slowly. ]
no subject
Whom does a king bow down to? It's not a thrilling thought, Elio doesn't get his kicks from seeing others beneath him, but he does feel a certain sense of softness from realizing that Lucifer is in fact taking a kneel before him, probably in the only way he ever will. He doesn't withhold that from him. Even that he gives, freely.
Then, the other man swirls his tongue over the head of his cock and Elio forgets approximately everything he was thinking, the thought just lost, gone, it doesn't matter anyway. Hearing himself whimper, loudly, his fingers in the other man's hair tighten, digging in along his scalp, fingertips hard and unapologetic. He doesn't lead his head anywhere, but he keeps him close, leaning in over him a bit. ]
Don't hold back. [ It's a hoarse whisper. ] Please -
[ Give me all of it, it means. The peaches at his feet, the shade of the tree, the house, the garden, himself... Yes, Elio thinks, pleasure making him feel light-headed, so it might be a somewhat delirious thought, Lucifer belongs with him as well, doesn't he? Along with his you are everything's and as long as you like's.
Belongs. Here. ]
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He's not great with human emotions, generally speaking, but with Elio, he's grown fairly fluent over the past many, many months. He senses the emotional weight between them, realising all too clearly that it isn't directly tied to him, seeing as he's never actually been here, on his knees, with sticky peach juice all over his fingers and lips. Even the dreams didn't take them here and for the first time, he thinks he might even understand why.
Don't hold back, says Elio.
Lucifer angles his head a little, parts his lips and sucks him in, head first, his cock feeling massive and wide in his mouth. He takes a quick breath through his nose and simply dives in all the way, letting Elio's cock glide along his tongue to the back of his throat and in, until it blocks him out and he can feel the other man's pubic hair against his lips. He stays like that, just letting him feel the tightness for a moment, slipping his hand from around his cock to his arse and stroking his buttocks soothingly before grabbing on.
Holding him in place against him. ]
no subject
Elio's eyes are welling up. Just standing there and taking it, he simply looks around, from the house to the gardens and the pool, the many trees in the orchard, peaches and apricots and pomegranate, a kind for every season. Blinking desperately, he groans, just as much to cover up the shakiness of his breathing, but also because Lucifer feels fantastic, he's amazing, Elio loves the way there's room for him there, if nowhere else, always.
So, he tells him that, voice quivering and wet. ]
I feel so at home in you.
[ Also, he's close. Can they maybe call this an orgasmic rambling and leave it at that? Please move, please let him come like this and forget himself a moment.
Please don't stop. ]
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Realising that he's about to choke himself - which, oh, novel! - he eases back slowly, Elio's cock sliding along his tongue and out, popping into his mouth. His tastebuds are exploding with different impressions, all of them related to sex, to Elio's cock, to arousal and sweat and musk and precum. He groans heavily and looks up at Elio before he gives him the friction he's no doubt dying for, sucking around his length roughly, cheeks hollowing.
Then, he takes him right back down, pushing along his buttocks with his hand. His own cock is spurting precum against his thighs and he's fairly certain it'll take him minutes to hit the edge once he gets to it. It's fine. For once, he's not really in any rush to sate himself.
Instead, he holds Elio as close as he can, takes him in (takes him home). He's pretty much drooling all over the place by this point and it's a good thing he's naked or he'd be worried about his suit. As it is, he just lets it all drip into the grass, onto his knees and thighs. The taste of the peaches is gone, now, but the scent lingers in the air around them, heavy and sweet. ]
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The shift happens even more smoothly this time, the way Lucifer sucks him right back down into the tight constraints of his throat and Elio stops fighting it now, lets his hips dig forward, burying himself to the base, mostly because his balls are drawing up harshly and he's coming within the span of a second, oh, yes! And his fingers curl in Lucifer's hair, grabbing him, holding him, cradling him as he spends himself far down his throat, balls drawing up against his body and the sun warm on his skin and everything smells like peach and sweat and sex and it's so beautiful. Being home feels so beautiful.
His cock is pulsing and his muscles are trembling and he forgets himself, as he wanted, forgets Oliver, forgets then and now at the same time. Elio can hear himself gasping for breath, half-slumped in over Lucifer's head and he drops his hands to his shoulders, waiting dutifully for the other man to draw back in his own time, no rushing that process, that's rude and uncomfortable, neither of which Lucifer deserves.
He deserves thanks.
Elio catches his breath finally and smiles down at him. His voice, when he speaks, is slightly thin and airy. Shaky. He reaches up and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, then he drops it to the side of Lucifer's face and cups his jaw gently, his stubble still sticky from peach juice. ]
You didn't ask me what I wanted this time, but you still gave it to me.
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Right now, right here, he can almost pretend that there aren't anyone - or anything - in the world that might challenge the claim they have on each other.
Peace, he thinks, feeling wild with it.
When Elio stills against him, he pulls off his cock very gently, taking care not to get him with his teeth on the way. His jaw aches like something distinctively unholy and he loves it, loves this reminder that Elio can actually mark him like this, make his body remember if only for a little while. He's old, after all. He's ancient. He's got tons and tons of pictures in his memory but aches and scars lend a weight to them that goes beyond comparison.
You still gave it to me, Elio tells him, wiping his eyes and cupping his jaw, looking sweet and sated and untamed. Lucifer draws back a little further, sinking down onto his haunches and looking up at him. The implications... oh. He's been meaning to do that since the very first time they met, hasn't he? And the past many months, he been wanting to do it, knowing full well that without his mojo, he doesn't stand a lot of chances keeping people satisfied. After all, without that, he's just...
He's just...
But he isn't, here. Not right now. He smiles, widely, looking up at Elio and feeling so incredibly pleased with the both of them that he can't say a lot, except: ]
I did, didn't I?
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I did, didn't I, he just says, looking pleased with himself and Elio wants him to have this moment, he wants him to have it exactly as it befits him best, so he doesn't say anything for another half minute, stepping back and looking towards his pile of peaches. Looking back at Lucifer, he finds him on his haunches, his cock so hard it must hurt, precum dripping from the head. Elio kneels in the grass next to his fruits and nods towards the grass on his other side. ]
If you want, you should lie down. I'll take care of you, too.
[ He wants to suck Lucifer off as well, he wants them to mirror each other today, he wants them to walk the same path just for a little while, at least. So as he waits for Lucifer to decide whether lying down in the grass and be pleasured pleases him, he toes out of his shoes, socks, takes off his pants and underwear, leaving it in a pile next to the other pile, the peach one. He reaches for the peach on top of it, closing his fingers around it and raising it to his face slowly, looking back over at Lucifer. Elio bites into it, less show, more genuine enjoyment this time, sucking some of the juice into his mouth and swallowing it thickly, before pushing two fingers into the fruit and removing the stone. It glitters orangey in the sunlight, at this hour it's beginning to look like evening a little bit. They can go take a shower afterwards, then have dinner. They won't even have to cook, Mafalda's left them homemade pizza, local ingredients.
Elio lies down as well, on his side, waiting. He looks Lucifer over slowly, eyes narrowing as he licks his lips, only partly because his lips are now wet and drenched in peach juice again. That should feel nice, right? Lucifer should tell him how nice it feels. ]
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It goes straight to his balls.
He watches Elio for a moment longer, following the path of his tongue as he licks his lips. Then, he lies down next to the other man, on his side, spreading his thighs a little because, you know, make room and all that. He leans in and licks the juice off Elio's lips greedily, grabbing the back of his head and burying his fingers in his hair. As he presses his tongue between the other man's lips, the taste of peach mixes with what's already on his tongue - precum, the scent of sex and cock. There's probably not a lot of cum, sadly, with how far down his throat it went but the rest is there.
When he draws back again, his own lips wet and swollen, still, from the blowjob, he gives Elio's head a little nudge downwards though he doesn't actively push or anything, he's not a douche. But he does make it pretty clear where his mind's at - after all, his balls are uncomfortably tight at this point, it's like someone's put them in a vice (which, no, he's tried that more than once and it honestly doesn't tickle his anything) and the sight and taste of Elio's wet lips... if he were to reach down and touch himself, he's fairly certain the memory alone would set him off within seconds. ]
Please, could you...
[ He trails off. Swallows, then licks his own lips, sending Elio a hopeful little eyebrow-waggle to compensate. ]
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The eyebrow waggle is just encouragement, really. He smiles. ]
You're so hard for me, anything else would be cruel.
[ And I'm not cruel, he implies, not towards you.
Crawling downwards, he positions himself in parallel with Lucifer's legs, his strong thighs, knees, shins, pushing his half-open mouth to his stomach, licking a trail downwards over his skin until the other man's cock is more or less poking him in the chin. He's kept the peach in his hand, safe and protected from too much squeezing by his palm, curved around it. Now, he reaches up, balancing himself on his other elbow, and twists it open by the bite mark he's left in it one-handedly, feeling the flesh part wetly and he hums as he pushes the wide slit in the fruit to the base of Lucifer's cock, keeping it closed around the girth of him, well, half of it, he's big, and stroking upwards, feeling the juices make the slide easy and smooth. They leave him shining, beautiful. Elio bends his neck and pushes his tongue to the same trail, following it upwards towards the head, more or less giving Lucifer a very extended handjob. The sweet taste of the fruit mixing with Lucifer's darker scent, his taste, the way he feels enormous and warm on his tongue might just get him hard again.
Once he gets to the head, Elio starts dragging downwards with the fruit, keeping off the other man's glans and instead focusing on the shaft, on letting him feel how mushy and soft the insides of the peach are getting against him, around him. Though, to not leave his cock head unattended, because as he said, he isn't cruel like that, he swirls his tongue over the glans, dipping into the slit a little bit, just keeping all of him nicely stimulated.
Not quite a rhythm yet, but there's the promise of one. ]
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I - oh! What --
[ Gasping, he actually startles at the feeling of something decidedly wet but cool, something soft and squishy and - against the shaft of his cock. He looks down, eyes wide, as Elio leans in and licks the juice off his shaft towards the head. His breath is more or less stuck in his throat at the sight and it basically whooshes out of him, very undignified, when the other man makes a downwards stroke with the fruit (the fruit!) and swirls his tongue over the head of his cock, pushing into the slit. The scent of peach explodes in the air between them and his cock jerks, pitifully, while his mind tries to assemble all the impressions into something approaching a coherent whole.
Elio, Elio's mouth on his cock - and the fruit, the wet, maddening slide of it, and the juice feels a little bit sticky as it pools over his balls, too, Elio's saliva watering it out somewhat. Trembling, Lucifer settles down on his hip and watches, enraptured, his cock glinting golden and slick, Elio's lips mirroring it, like they're fucking one and the same. He can't. It's - ]
Perfect. Oh, Elio, you're - [ He swallows convulsively, reaching down to run his hand mindlessly through the other man's curls, pulling at them a little, watching them bounce back against his head. ] - you're spoiling me.
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Like Elio's the perfect one here when Lucifer's the one shining from fruit juices and looking as divine as he is. Spoiling him? No, he really isn't, because spoiling signifies undeserved and Elio thinks he deserves all this, he deserves the way Elio's hand starts smearing the poor peach up and down his cock, long, hard strokes, juices sliding down his length, pooling over his balls. He deserves the way he eases the head of Lucifer's cock into his mouth, just tightening his lips around the very tip of it, sucking a little bit. He deserves the way that, after four or five strokes, the peach all but falling apart by the end, Elio withdraws his hand to squish it between his fingers, draining it for the last of its juices and stroking the other man's cock, just with his palm now, once he's discarded the fruit, slick and wet from the residue. He deserves all that.
Once he's fallen into a rhythm with his hand, Elio opens his mouth more and slides Lucifer's cock halfway in, letting a good couple of inches rest on his tongue and the head press against the very back of his throat. He doesn't try deep-throating him this time, he just gives him that sense of slide, pulling back, off, pushing down, over, off, over, off, his hand working the rest of his length at a matching pace. He tastes like arousal and precum. He tastes like sex. He tastes like peach and it's a beautiful mix, heavy and sweet at the same time.
Groaning lightly, Elio thinks that he wants to give Lucifer this, he wants to give him this gift, this pleasure, this happiness, in turn for everything Lucifer's given him, everything he's been, everything he's done. He'd say it wasn't him, of course, he'd say Elio did it all on his own, chose to do it, but it'd be the one lie he'd ever tell, of course and Elio would forgive him, Lucifer has his reasons for actually believing that.
This isn't payback, it's a reward. Freely given. ]
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With a barely articulated curse, he finally just holds onto Elio's head and returns the rhythm, sliding his hips inwards a little, pulling back, fucking the other man's mouth and staring at him all throughout, his muscles trembling from need. Gradually, the heat in his groin intensifies, grows and grows, until suddenly, he's hardening on Elio's tongue and his balls draw up, explosively. He moans, loudly and without restraint, pushing inwards a little more, just enough to feel the narrowness of Elio's mouth and the opening behind it.
He comes, the scent of peaches and cock and cum heavy in his system. He doesn't stop looking at Elio, doesn't stop taking him in, from the way his lips look, curved around his shaft to the sticky glimmer of juice on his skin, on Lucifer's own. They've become a part of this place, he thinks. Elio's made it so. They've left their imprints and been imprinted, in turn.
Breathing raggedly, fingers loosening in Elio's hair, he finally throws his head back and pants, open-mouthed, the echoes of his climax making him feel afloat.
Untethered. ]
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He waits until he's sucked the last of his orgasm out of him, then Elio pulls off Lucifer's cock slowly, looking up at him, at the way he's thrown back his head and is just existing at the heart of this place, where the wild things grow and where they can be completely unbothered and free. No Chloe Deckers. No Michels. No falls. No Hells. This is theirs, he thinks and crawls up until he's aligned with the other man completely, their feet lightly entangled by the ankles and Elio inches in against Lucifer until his head can come to a rest against his now very sticky chest. He smells sweet, almost sickeningly so. Likewise, Elio's tongue is still sticky with cum, salty and dark.
Kissing Lucifer's jawline, feeling his stubble against his swollen lips, Elio thinks he's never been closer to Heaven than this. Of course he doesn't say that out loud. ]
For as long as you like.
[ He mirrors Lucifer's words back at him, the ones he'd said the night before and was that really only last night? What he means is, you can stay here.
With him, with Elio. You're welcome. ]