[ The words aren't taunting, they're conclusive. I believe you, they mean.
Elio lets the slight tilt of Lucifer's wing push his hand in the direction of another bald patch near the upper arch of the wing, evidently the place most accessible to the other man as he'd plucked himself, because he's been harsh on it, the spot relatively sizable. Noticeable. Elio scratches gently in between the new feathers there, fingertips wriggling and tickling across the thin layer of skin underneath. While his fingers move of their own accord, Elio holds Lucifer's gaze, blood-red and intense, with eyes that are endlessly more human, blinking and softening and a little bit sad. It's a moment of connect, two species regarding each other from a safe distance away, and Elio most of all wants to push Lucifer's wing out of his lap, get up and hurl himself at him, clinging to his front, arms around his neck, mouth eating him in whatever way he'd be allowed.
Instead, Lucifer closes his eye again and inhales, long, deep.
Looking down at the feathers spread out across his thighs, Elio tells him: ]
Just bring me along for the ride.
[ Don't make it a you show. Elio knows how Lucifer is, how he gets all wrapped up in his own feelings and opinions of things, how he goes a little blind to others sometimes. Also to Elio, though Elio's not insecure enough to overlook how he's probably let closer than most. As it is, he doesn't want Lucifer to think abandoning him in order to chase this new mystery's even an option. If they're connected, they're connected, stay in touch! In every sense of the word. Stay close. Don't go silent.
[ A half-smile at Elio's initial comment, the underlying meaning - I know you never lie, I'm holding you to it - very clear to him despite the indirectness of the statement. It's not that he has a problem with irony or implications, in particular, but Lucifer's brain is hard-wired to think about betrayals, about backstabbings and power grabs, about maintaining control - of Hell, of himself, of his own life and choices. Sometimes, he forgets. That all people - beings - aren't necessarily like that.
With Elio, however, he doesn't forget.
It's just a given, the way he knows that he won't be betrayed, that the other man doesn't work like that, not towards him and probably not towards anyone else, either. He's too sweet. He's too sincere.
Bring me along he adds and Lucifer, eyes closed, simply hums in response. Pulls his wing out of Elio's grip, finally, and curls it around his shoulders instead, covering him in a blanket of feathers, feeling the contours of his body against his own. I will, he wants to say, but he never lies and his Father's intentions are rarely so preoccupied with tiny humans and their tiny, short-lived desires. He knows this particular war too well, though he wishes he didn't.
And he'll do what's necessary.
His wing tightens around Elio's shoulders as he keeps his eyes closed, turning his face into the sunlight streaming through the windows. For a moment, at least, they can pretend to be warm. ]
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[ The words aren't taunting, they're conclusive. I believe you, they mean.
Elio lets the slight tilt of Lucifer's wing push his hand in the direction of another bald patch near the upper arch of the wing, evidently the place most accessible to the other man as he'd plucked himself, because he's been harsh on it, the spot relatively sizable. Noticeable. Elio scratches gently in between the new feathers there, fingertips wriggling and tickling across the thin layer of skin underneath. While his fingers move of their own accord, Elio holds Lucifer's gaze, blood-red and intense, with eyes that are endlessly more human, blinking and softening and a little bit sad. It's a moment of connect, two species regarding each other from a safe distance away, and Elio most of all wants to push Lucifer's wing out of his lap, get up and hurl himself at him, clinging to his front, arms around his neck, mouth eating him in whatever way he'd be allowed.
Instead, Lucifer closes his eye again and inhales, long, deep.
Looking down at the feathers spread out across his thighs, Elio tells him: ]
Just bring me along for the ride.
[ Don't make it a you show. Elio knows how Lucifer is, how he gets all wrapped up in his own feelings and opinions of things, how he goes a little blind to others sometimes. Also to Elio, though Elio's not insecure enough to overlook how he's probably let closer than most. As it is, he doesn't want Lucifer to think abandoning him in order to chase this new mystery's even an option. If they're connected, they're connected, stay in touch! In every sense of the word. Stay close. Don't go silent.
Don't go. ]
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With Elio, however, he doesn't forget.
It's just a given, the way he knows that he won't be betrayed, that the other man doesn't work like that, not towards him and probably not towards anyone else, either. He's too sweet. He's too sincere.
Bring me along he adds and Lucifer, eyes closed, simply hums in response. Pulls his wing out of Elio's grip, finally, and curls it around his shoulders instead, covering him in a blanket of feathers, feeling the contours of his body against his own. I will, he wants to say, but he never lies and his Father's intentions are rarely so preoccupied with tiny humans and their tiny, short-lived desires. He knows this particular war too well, though he wishes he didn't.
And he'll do what's necessary.
His wing tightens around Elio's shoulders as he keeps his eyes closed, turning his face into the sunlight streaming through the windows. For a moment, at least, they can pretend to be warm. ]