[ Al Ceppo is the choice restaurant for the local Romans if they want to dine expensively, but rustically, food like their Mama made it, basically, if their Mama did anything with a twist ever, it's well out of the way of the normal tourist traps and you can take anyone, ranging from your picky wife to your even pickier business parter here and they'll leave satisfied. Elio? Elio has taken Lucifer. It's not a Michelin star affair at all, though they're definitely Michelin recommended and endlessly proud of it, with its bistro-like aesthetic, the wooden panelling on the walls and the shelved wines at the far end, but it's got plenty of charm. Atmosphere.
They're here late, even by Italian standards, it's almost half past nine when they arrive, people beginning to leave which means they have no trouble securing themselves the best table by one of the windows. They're having drinks while they decide, the waiter watching them discreetly from the other end of the room, ready to step in at any notice. Having not even touched the menu yet, Elio raises his whisky to his lips, savors a mouthful, looking across the rim of his glass at the other man. The waiter fidgets.
They're dressed for a night on the town, because that's where they're going. All Elio's idea, Lucifer's probably only in it for the fun.
Though, usually their fun ends up being equal parts beautiful and romantic and intense, doesn't it? He thinks about their game before they left the house, about Cinque Terre, eating and sleeping and fucking with an unobstructed view of the ocean. The sound of waves. The sound of Lucifer's breathing in the early morning... ]
While I lived here, this was the place to take your date if it was serious enough. [ He isn't omitting the fact that he never did, because nothing was ever serious enough, it simply doesn't seem relevant and besides, Lucifer can probably imagine. He knows, after all. How Elio used to be. ] I liked to bring my professional network. You're the first date I've taken.
[ As they drove south from the coast of Cinque Terre, he'd received a text message from Amenadiel, telling him that something seemed to be happening with his necklace, something that made it glitter at night which, you know, the joke about his neon-rod had been inevitable. All the same, it's been at the back of Lucifer's mind since; the notion that yes, indeed, something is changing. Hard to say what it means, of course. Amenadiel has gone to the Silver City for answers which he'll obviously never have because no one up there knows anything of value and Dad, as always, is content to remain MIA.
Anyway, Lucifer's prepared to handle this when he must. Whatever it is.
But for now, he's delighted to be on a date, the kind that he hasn't even arranged himself. Can't remember when he'd been on one of those, last. If ever. The restaurant, Al Ceppo, is a lovely choice for the evening, all luxury authenticity, rustic, wooden panels and glimmering, gold-rimmed mirrors. The wine is excellent, too, and he's actually quite surprised that he's never heard of this place before. Then again, Rome's never been high on his list of preferred vacation spots. The Vatican, visible from their panoramic hotel windows, really is a mighty eyesore indeed.
At Elio's words, Lucifer sips his wine and cocks his head. ]
I'm flattered. Though, now I wonder - If you weren't serious about me, where would we have gone? [ A small smile. ] You see, people rarely take me on any kinds of dates.
[ A long exchange of looks at that, Elio raising his chin a bit in an almost defiant way that says, you deserve all the dates you could possibly want, Lucifer, but that's really all the comment he makes on it. He's never pitied the other man the life he's had, because Lucifer doesn't pity himself and besides, to do so would be to mightily downplay the strengths he's shown in order to overcome any and all adversity. It's an absurd thought anyway, of course, downplaying the Devil, isn't it? You'd reduce him to the caricature most people see him as already, Elio has never played into that trope for a reason. He lets his gaze caress the line of Lucifer's jaw for a moment, then he puts his tumbler down, it's mostly empty, it was a small serving, perfect for a starter, and exhales long, soft.
The waiter is beginning to glance more overtly at them now. Elio could think of a few reasons for that. ]
Coffee dates used to be my go-to. [ With a small gesture of his hand, just a soft flourish of fingers and wrist, he makes as if to illustrate. ] I know all the best coffee places in the city or, at least I used to. It's a format that's down-to-earth and, most importantly, easy to skip on.
[ If I didn't like you, implied.
He frowns, not really liking the sound of those words. It feels like it's been a long time since he last went on a date only to get into a fight over the roast of the coffee beans with someone and leave in a huff, but in reality it hasn't been more than a few years. It isn't embarrassing as such, Elio thinks, it's just very telling.
Really, he doesn't pity himself either. He means, look! Lucifer in his suit and with his wine, the way his fingers grip the glass, the way he cocks his head. Smiles. Life, as Michel would've said. Elio's own smile almost doesn't waver. That's how far he's come, since he needed to know every coffee shop in all of Rome. Now, this is enough. More than enough. ]
[ Easy to skip on he says and Lucifer just nods, nothing but understanding along with slight satisfaction on his face. That, after all, is how he'd do it himself if he were to take someone on a date before sex - he'd usually never bother, though. What's the point of sitting around, small-talking and what have you, when you both know where you'd really like to be? The thing is, he understands that this is different. Elio's approach to dating, after all, has been a reflection of everything he denied himself, not a matter of thoughtless indulgence or pleasure-seeking.
We're here together but we aren't.
Perhaps that's how Lucifer's lovers saw it, too, come to think of it.
He fiddles with the menu absent-mindedly, his gaze sliding sideways in thought. Peripherally, he senses the waiter watching them like a hawk, clearly anxious to take their orders. The kitchen closes in a few hours. ]
You know. [ He blinks. Looks back at Elio again, eyes widening in realisation. ] I used to wonder how anyone could find a good night's worth of sex meaningless. My partners would all say they'd had the best night of their lives and yet...
[ He frowns. Glances at his menu card and stretches out one leg beneath the table, a restless movement ending with the tip of his shoe colliding with Elio's lightly. He leaves it there, the two of them, pressed together a little between the shadows. ]
If you aren't invested, then you simply aren't. I never knew - how well you protect yourselves, in truth.
[ Listening attentively while Lucifer comes to some kind of realization about humans in general, and have no doubt, Elio thinks it's nice he can be made an example of, right, he watches the way the other man's eyes widen and feels his foot slide across the distance between them beneath the table, touching Elio's shoe in the shadows. Like a small point of contact, touch, pressure, presence. Not secret as such, just discreet, theirs alone. He frowns when Lucifer frowns, leaning over to take the somewhat misunderstood menu card from between his hands, freeing them for him, all his long, strong fingers. Stacking the card on top of his own, gently, almost without a sound, maybe a soft slide of faux leather on faux leather, shhh, Elio just looks at him for a long moment, letting that frown speak for itself.
It's a clever observation, albeit a painful one. How well you protect yourselves. ]
A lot of the time, we don't even know it ourselves, Lucifer. [ There's a shrug, as if to say - they didn't mean anything by it, your lovers, they didn't guard themselves from you because of you. Though, obviously, that's what's dawning on the other man right now as well. ] It's rarely a conscious choice, how we're desperately chasing the one thing we're also keeping at an arm's length.
[ Unrestrained intimacy, in this case.
The waiter is now exchanging a few words with the chef who's stopped in the door to the kitchens. Elio looks down at the menu cards slowly, then back up at Lucifer, a small smile forming on his lips. Almost playful, though it doesn't quite break with the mood of how well you protect yourselves, in truth. It wasn't scary, discarding all defenses with Oliver, because he honestly didn't know any better. Although he regrets nothing in regards to meeting Lucifer with no shields up, he held back for so long for a reason. Fear's a powerful motivator, but none of that now. He nods at Lucifer slightly. ]
Will you let me order for you? I think I know exactly what you'd want.
[ True, desires are usually Lucifer's domain, but tonight Elio thinks he'll take a shot at guessing, too. See where it takes them. ]
[ Elio takes his menu card gently. There's a moment of silence during which he feels - and sees - the other man watching him with that particular sort of attention he bestows upon Lucifer when he's on the verge of one of his more mature insights, the kind you wouldn't necessarily expect of a human male in his mid-thirties. In that sense, there's something inexpressibly old about Elio, something a little metaphysical, with his garden and his all-too-human fall and the traces of mindless abandonment snaking through his personal story.
His Father, blessing him from birth to be something or someone that none of them yet understand.
Lucifer nods at his comment on intimacy, on how refusing it isn't always a conscious choice, which... well, he would've thought, wouldn't he, before he met Linda and Chloe and his other human friends. Before he realised what a strange concept choice can be, in the context of human interaction. How complicated it looks from the outside, when you've been created with choice as something more like a funny fancy, something you could pretend to have but never truly achieve.
Sad, really. ]
Oooh! [ An excited little smile as he gestures at the menu. ] Yes, please. Have at it.
[ This night really is shaping up to be Elio's mirror to their date in NYC, isn't it? It's lovely. Unusual, definitely, to be wined and dined (though, he'll insist on paying every single bill they generate tonight, everything else would be ridiculous), to be... maybe, led, a little, though it's more of a transaction. Lucifer, Elio. Taking turns.
He can't remember doing that with anyone else before and it's making his stomach feel all kinds of fluffy and odd.
[ Lucifer lets him, because despite being proud, he's not actually prideful and his masculinity doesn't rely on leading and deciding and giving 100 percent all the time. It's weird how toxicity in men is so common that you don't really realize you've been under its spell forever, until someone comes along who bears no trace of it, Elio thinks. Someone who's completely removed from that whole little human fallacy. Angels got other issues, he's not going to deny that, but toxicity isn't one of them. Rebellious tendencies, maybe. Intrusive superpowers? Sure. But Lucifer's personality is differently assembled. Elio loves that, he loves that he can be his own kind of man around him - and that Lucifer can do the same around Elio. No judgment.
He smiles wider, then, biting his lower lip briefly before looking to the side and catching the waiter's gaze. The man looks half-relieved and half-exasperated as he crosses the room, stopping by their table and asking them if they want the full wine menu which includes three courses, coffee and a drink by the end. His natural inclination is to direct this question at Lucifer and Elio's aware how they must look, especially from an Italian's point of view - if there ever was a nation where the daddy outranks everyone else, this is it, welcome. But of course, Lucifer's no one's daddy, least of all Elio's and tonight, Elio's leading them safely to the finish line himself, so he cocks his head at the waiter and tells him he's ready to place their orders. And so the waiter turns his head towards him almost without a hint of a pause. Yes, sir.
Ordering the fried anchovies for starters, Elio goes on to nod towards the kitchen and asking for the chef's choice of grilled meats for their mains (tell him to be adventurous - we are, tonight), with strict instructions about keeping it medium-rare to rare. Finally, the tiramisu for desserts, extra large portions, please. ] With espressos. [ Elio's voice, kept pleasantly low and even, dies out while the waiter notes all of this down with a slightly quirked eyebrow.
And your drinks? Elio asks him if Diego's on duty tonight, the waiter telling him yes, indeed, he is. ]
Then, we'll have two dry martinis.
[ Stepping back, the waiter gives them a curt nod and shuffles off towards the kitchen. Elio looks across the table at Lucifer, raising one eyebrow slightly. It's not a judge me expression, it never is, between them. It's more of a did I get anything wrong one. Because now's the time to tell me. ]
[ Elio proceeds to take the reins on tonight's dinner extravaganza and Lucifer just watches him, one eyebrow quirked expectantly. He wouldn't necessarily have trusted the Detective to pick out a restaurant for them for a night-out, let alone the food, mostly because, well, her taste pretty much amounts to single-mum-with-a-full-time-job which means fast, easy and uncomplicated. No, if he'd been dating her, he would've carved out the path for them both, made it stylish and elegant, tried to bring a little light into her dreary, murder-infested world.
With Elio... they started out like that too, didn't they, when they didn't know each other well. Lucifer would presume to set the course for them, get Elio a job at Lux, tell him not to waste his Saturdays, ineffectively attempt to mojo his desires out of him. Yes, just as Elio used to have easy-to-skip-on dates, Lucifer's used to creating scenarios, like he created the stars, he's used to setting things in motion, waiting for the individual pieces to fall as they fit, as they choose (because he's not his Father, he doesn't have to know).
He's been treating humanity this way, he thinks. Since the dawn of time.
Leaning back in his chair, he nods and slides his foot more firmly against Elio's, seeking that sense of connection, the feeling of being tethered. He likes the other man's choices, of course. How couldn't he? It's something Elio thinks he'll like and he's even careful enough about it to seek out Lucifer's approval afterwards, the question unvoiced but blatant, clear and precise. ]
Lovely, my dear.
[ He gives the other man a small smile and lets the evening run its course.
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They're here late, even by Italian standards, it's almost half past nine when they arrive, people beginning to leave which means they have no trouble securing themselves the best table by one of the windows. They're having drinks while they decide, the waiter watching them discreetly from the other end of the room, ready to step in at any notice. Having not even touched the menu yet, Elio raises his whisky to his lips, savors a mouthful, looking across the rim of his glass at the other man. The waiter fidgets.
They're dressed for a night on the town, because that's where they're going. All Elio's idea, Lucifer's probably only in it for the fun.
Though, usually their fun ends up being equal parts beautiful and romantic and intense, doesn't it? He thinks about their game before they left the house, about Cinque Terre, eating and sleeping and fucking with an unobstructed view of the ocean. The sound of waves. The sound of Lucifer's breathing in the early morning... ]
While I lived here, this was the place to take your date if it was serious enough. [ He isn't omitting the fact that he never did, because nothing was ever serious enough, it simply doesn't seem relevant and besides, Lucifer can probably imagine. He knows, after all. How Elio used to be. ] I liked to bring my professional network. You're the first date I've taken.
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Anyway, Lucifer's prepared to handle this when he must. Whatever it is.
But for now, he's delighted to be on a date, the kind that he hasn't even arranged himself. Can't remember when he'd been on one of those, last. If ever. The restaurant, Al Ceppo, is a lovely choice for the evening, all luxury authenticity, rustic, wooden panels and glimmering, gold-rimmed mirrors. The wine is excellent, too, and he's actually quite surprised that he's never heard of this place before. Then again, Rome's never been high on his list of preferred vacation spots. The Vatican, visible from their panoramic hotel windows, really is a mighty eyesore indeed.
At Elio's words, Lucifer sips his wine and cocks his head. ]
I'm flattered. Though, now I wonder - If you weren't serious about me, where would we have gone? [ A small smile. ] You see, people rarely take me on any kinds of dates.
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The waiter is beginning to glance more overtly at them now. Elio could think of a few reasons for that. ]
Coffee dates used to be my go-to. [ With a small gesture of his hand, just a soft flourish of fingers and wrist, he makes as if to illustrate. ] I know all the best coffee places in the city or, at least I used to. It's a format that's down-to-earth and, most importantly, easy to skip on.
[ If I didn't like you, implied.
He frowns, not really liking the sound of those words. It feels like it's been a long time since he last went on a date only to get into a fight over the roast of the coffee beans with someone and leave in a huff, but in reality it hasn't been more than a few years. It isn't embarrassing as such, Elio thinks, it's just very telling.
Really, he doesn't pity himself either. He means, look! Lucifer in his suit and with his wine, the way his fingers grip the glass, the way he cocks his head. Smiles. Life, as Michel would've said. Elio's own smile almost doesn't waver. That's how far he's come, since he needed to know every coffee shop in all of Rome. Now, this is enough. More than enough. ]
no subject
We're here together but we aren't.
Perhaps that's how Lucifer's lovers saw it, too, come to think of it.
He fiddles with the menu absent-mindedly, his gaze sliding sideways in thought. Peripherally, he senses the waiter watching them like a hawk, clearly anxious to take their orders. The kitchen closes in a few hours. ]
You know. [ He blinks. Looks back at Elio again, eyes widening in realisation. ] I used to wonder how anyone could find a good night's worth of sex meaningless. My partners would all say they'd had the best night of their lives and yet...
[ He frowns. Glances at his menu card and stretches out one leg beneath the table, a restless movement ending with the tip of his shoe colliding with Elio's lightly. He leaves it there, the two of them, pressed together a little between the shadows. ]
If you aren't invested, then you simply aren't. I never knew - how well you protect yourselves, in truth.
no subject
It's a clever observation, albeit a painful one. How well you protect yourselves. ]
A lot of the time, we don't even know it ourselves, Lucifer. [ There's a shrug, as if to say - they didn't mean anything by it, your lovers, they didn't guard themselves from you because of you. Though, obviously, that's what's dawning on the other man right now as well. ] It's rarely a conscious choice, how we're desperately chasing the one thing we're also keeping at an arm's length.
[ Unrestrained intimacy, in this case.
The waiter is now exchanging a few words with the chef who's stopped in the door to the kitchens. Elio looks down at the menu cards slowly, then back up at Lucifer, a small smile forming on his lips. Almost playful, though it doesn't quite break with the mood of how well you protect yourselves, in truth. It wasn't scary, discarding all defenses with Oliver, because he honestly didn't know any better. Although he regrets nothing in regards to meeting Lucifer with no shields up, he held back for so long for a reason. Fear's a powerful motivator, but none of that now. He nods at Lucifer slightly. ]
Will you let me order for you? I think I know exactly what you'd want.
[ True, desires are usually Lucifer's domain, but tonight Elio thinks he'll take a shot at guessing, too. See where it takes them. ]
no subject
His Father, blessing him from birth to be something or someone that none of them yet understand.
Lucifer nods at his comment on intimacy, on how refusing it isn't always a conscious choice, which... well, he would've thought, wouldn't he, before he met Linda and Chloe and his other human friends. Before he realised what a strange concept choice can be, in the context of human interaction. How complicated it looks from the outside, when you've been created with choice as something more like a funny fancy, something you could pretend to have but never truly achieve.
Sad, really. ]
Oooh! [ An excited little smile as he gestures at the menu. ] Yes, please. Have at it.
[ This night really is shaping up to be Elio's mirror to their date in NYC, isn't it? It's lovely. Unusual, definitely, to be wined and dined (though, he'll insist on paying every single bill they generate tonight, everything else would be ridiculous), to be... maybe, led, a little, though it's more of a transaction. Lucifer, Elio. Taking turns.
He can't remember doing that with anyone else before and it's making his stomach feel all kinds of fluffy and odd.
In a nice way, he thinks. ]
no subject
He smiles wider, then, biting his lower lip briefly before looking to the side and catching the waiter's gaze. The man looks half-relieved and half-exasperated as he crosses the room, stopping by their table and asking them if they want the full wine menu which includes three courses, coffee and a drink by the end. His natural inclination is to direct this question at Lucifer and Elio's aware how they must look, especially from an Italian's point of view - if there ever was a nation where the daddy outranks everyone else, this is it, welcome. But of course, Lucifer's no one's daddy, least of all Elio's and tonight, Elio's leading them safely to the finish line himself, so he cocks his head at the waiter and tells him he's ready to place their orders. And so the waiter turns his head towards him almost without a hint of a pause. Yes, sir.
Ordering the fried anchovies for starters, Elio goes on to nod towards the kitchen and asking for the chef's choice of grilled meats for their mains (tell him to be adventurous - we are, tonight), with strict instructions about keeping it medium-rare to rare. Finally, the tiramisu for desserts, extra large portions, please. ] With espressos. [ Elio's voice, kept pleasantly low and even, dies out while the waiter notes all of this down with a slightly quirked eyebrow.
And your drinks? Elio asks him if Diego's on duty tonight, the waiter telling him yes, indeed, he is. ]
Then, we'll have two dry martinis.
[ Stepping back, the waiter gives them a curt nod and shuffles off towards the kitchen. Elio looks across the table at Lucifer, raising one eyebrow slightly. It's not a judge me expression, it never is, between them. It's more of a did I get anything wrong one. Because now's the time to tell me. ]
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With Elio... they started out like that too, didn't they, when they didn't know each other well. Lucifer would presume to set the course for them, get Elio a job at Lux, tell him not to waste his Saturdays, ineffectively attempt to mojo his desires out of him. Yes, just as Elio used to have easy-to-skip-on dates, Lucifer's used to creating scenarios, like he created the stars, he's used to setting things in motion, waiting for the individual pieces to fall as they fit, as they choose (because he's not his Father, he doesn't have to know).
He's been treating humanity this way, he thinks. Since the dawn of time.
Leaning back in his chair, he nods and slides his foot more firmly against Elio's, seeking that sense of connection, the feeling of being tethered. He likes the other man's choices, of course. How couldn't he? It's something Elio thinks he'll like and he's even careful enough about it to seek out Lucifer's approval afterwards, the question unvoiced but blatant, clear and precise. ]
Lovely, my dear.
[ He gives the other man a small smile and lets the evening run its course.
By Elio's design, tonight. ]