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