[ The orgasm seems to draw out for minutes (hours, days, time works differently in pleasure and in Hell, what do you know) before he blinks again, hard, feeling sweat clinging to his eyelashes. He raises his head very slowly, his muscles complaining immediately, clearly prepared to just call it a day and settle in for the night. He's about to turn his head when Elio releases his buttocks (his arsehole feels overly wet and sensitive, the muscle there working a little still in the wake of his climax), resting his palm soothingly on the small of his back.
This man is never not considerate.
It amazes Lucifer time and again.
He spreads his wings a little to the sides as the other man shifts between his legs, anticipating the movement of his body a split second before he lies down along his back, his weight warm and solid. He kisses Lucifer's neck and Lucifer, in turn, reaches up with a shaky hand and runs his fingers through Elio's curls, his movements just the slightest bit uncoordinated. Drunk. He's actually... a little bit drunk.
Bloody hell. ]
Utterly.
[ He shifts. Against the small of his back, he can feel how hard the other man is, again, just from... well. Lucifer's licked arse before and he finds it rather rewarding, too, so that part doesn't surprise him but all the same, it's... well, it's him, isn't it. Right now, Elio's pleasure seems to be all about him and the thought makes his chest tighten almost dangerously, like his immortal heart's threatening to give out.
So, to counteract that burst of vulnerability, Lucifer spreads his thighs a little and wriggles his arse upwards against Elio's thighs and crotch. Speaks, voice hoarse and his hand in Elio's hair pausing in its stroking: ]
[ Lucifer's wings spread out to either side, these long blankets of feathers, covering the bed, Elio has woken up beneath them more than once and they're more than just feathers, unlike duvets, for example, they're protection, just looking at them makes him feel immediately and instinctually safer. Like Lucifer does. Elio kisses his neck again, feels the way his hand is trembling a bit where it's gliding through Elio's curls and Elio turns his chin up, pushes back against his palm, inviting the point of contact. More. More.
I'm definitely relaxed enough, says the other man and wriggles his ass upwards, pressing against Elio's thighs and crotch and making his cock jerk just at the implication, have me, it means. You can have me. Elio will never cease to be amazed that in this world, there's someone who's willing to give themselves to him, he's lost so many, after all, been left so many times, it had begun seeming a feeble, feverish dream. Something not belonging to reality.
But Lucifer is very real and all solid muscle against him and Elio breathes out hard, muttering I want before pushing himself up on his side a little to stretch for the nightstand, the drawer coming fully equipped with a Bible and the lube that they always bring themselves, because being prepared is part of the game, right? He unscrews the lid and sloppily slicks up his palm, reaching down to stroke his cock a few times, leaving it glistening and wet.
The lube goes back with the Bible, it seems the perfect match, really.
He shifts carefully, it's almost painful, how sensitive he is, his first orgasm still present in his system, lets the head of it slip up between the other man's buttocks, where he's still soaking wet and lax from Elio's mouth. Elio can still taste him. Him and the champagne. It should be interesting. Should be incredible. Licking his lips, Elio rubs his cock head over Lucifer's rim a couple of times, just feeling how wide he is now. When he speaks, his voice is dark, throaty. He presses his forehead in against the side of Lucifer's neck, smells him everywhere, from his own breath to Lucifer's hair tickling his nose. ]
I want you so much, Lucifer.
[ And that said, as if it explains everything and maybe it does, Elio starts pushing in, slowly and carefully, just edges in the head of his cock inch by inch, until that sensation of popping into place, the first few inches of the shaft going easier. Smoother. Oh. Oh, he's so warm, so tight. Elio groans, the sound prolonged as he starts pushing in, movement never losing its care, because Elio doesn't. Not around Lucifer, never. ]
[ He senses more than sees Elio stretching to reach for the nightstand, mostly because he really doesn't want to ruin the mood by accidentally getting an eyeful of the nasty little book taking up space in the drawer. Great place for the lube, though. The best. Eyes falling shut, he rests his chin against his arm and shifts his wings a little to accommodate Elio's movements. He listens to the slick sound of the other man working his cock and shifts, his spent cock giving a dedicated little twitch, such a trooper, really.
He isn't certain he can take another orgasm, though, so he's not going to chase it.
Instead, he waits as Elio settles between his thighs again, leaning in over him and rubbing the head of his cock up against the sensitive rim of his arsehole. He sucks in a ragged breath, pushing back a little against the pressure. His cock feels massive like this, furnace-hot. At the touch of his forehead against Lucifer's neck and the heat of his breath, skimming over his skin - warm, smells like him, like musk and sex and sweat - Lucifer smiles and nudges him back, tilting his head a little to do so. I want you so much says Elio and then, Lucifer which feels like a rarity somehow. Elio taking his name in his mouth and releasing it.
He closes his eyes more firmly, breathes out deeply (maybe a little shakily, too) and relaxes just as Elio starts pushing in, the wide girth of his cock popping past his rim with a sharp spark of pleasure-pain. He feels his body stretching in response, opening up obscenely wide, as the other man pushes in the rest of the way carefully (always, always careful). Lips pressed together, he takes a few, uneven breaths before pushing back, slowly, taking him in, letting Elio take up space within him.
A gift, he thinks, but not of anybody else's making. This is theirs, Elio's and his, just two bodies and two minds, sharing whatever space they can. ]
[ Although Elio has never topped all that much with his male partners, which comes down to choice of people, his own show of character, maybe, there can be a whole array of reasons for that, he knows, he's always loved it. It's like his general, almost desperate need to be let in put in its most physical form, actually having someone letting him slip inside their bodies, nesting there, enjoying a moment of oneness. Where there's no end to him and no beginning to the one he's allowed inside of. Still, topping Lucifer is another experience altogether, it's much more intense, much closer, warmer, not just due to Lucifer's general body temperature, but because their feelings... They align. They match. And Elio refuses to believe it's only some handy trick of God's, no, it's their own continuous decision to open up to each other, it's that feeling, isn't it? Lucifer opening up to him, breathing out and thus, creating room inside for Elio to claim, take, fill up with his cock, the sensation of tight walls and heat and the slight squelch of residual champagne all together making him dizzy. Oh, it's beautiful.
What they have created together is beautiful. It's worth something, all on its own, blessings or gifts aside. They're worth something, by their own merits. Even God wouldn't have it any different, he's sure and Lucifer most certainly wouldn't.
This will become extremely important at some point, he can tell. When, inevitably, they need to part again. At that time, it'll matter that they chose this for themselves and they will choose the natural separation, too. Elio knows, Elio knows, and he pushes the thought away in order to bury into Lucifer to the base, groaning low in his throat and staring at the perfect gray behind his eyelids as his balls draw up slightly, very first surge of pleasure leaving him trembling. He balances himself on either side of Lucifer's head, keeps his body weight off him enough to be able to move smoothly, pulling back out, slow, slow dragging motion, and then in again. Out, in.
It's beautiful. His breathing is stuttering out of him, his hips straining to go faster.
Elio only holds back another moment, just to give Lucifer time to adjust, then he thrusts inside him harder, upping the pace a little, really moaning now, his whole body feeling oversaturated.
[ Elio's groaning as he sinks into him, pulling out slowly before pushing back in and oh, it's always quite something, being fucked, particularly with his arsehole all hypersensitive and spent. Lucifer's gone long stretches without, let's face it, because on Earth, very few men truly care about your pleasure enough to make it worth your while and in Hell, well, there's Maze with a strap-on. Easy math, you'd think.
There's also the fact that taking someone into your body like this, the vulnerability of it, is...
He swallows. Sways in his back a little for a better angle to Elio's thrusts and pushes back to meet him, taking him in deeper and feeling drunker all the while, not just from the champagne rushing unfiltered through his bloodstream but from the implications, too. Of the way Elio seemingly melts into him, moaning as he chases his own pleasure, their breaths mingling somewhere in the air around them as Lucifer pants, hips working, the other man's cock hitting his prostate like this. It's almost too much, the fullness, the sharp jab of pleasure at each instroke, but it makes him hard again so obviously - and to no one's surprise, probably - his body is very much on board.
It makes him hard and it makes his chest feel curiously light.
He reaches for Elio's hands on either side of his head and twists their fingers together, holding onto him and meeting each thrust, feeling the hard length of the other man's cock sliding deep inside, then out, then in, hollowing him out just to take its place again and again and again. It feels like insanity, like the best sort of abandonment and within long, he's moaning too, hoarser now.
He climaxes again, just like that, his arse clenching madly around Elio's cock and his eyes falling shut, muscles trembling all the way down his back. ]
[ It becomes a rhythm, a recognizable one, although he'd be hard-pressed to name it, to count it in time, it's just there, how he sinks into Lucifer's body, filling him up and leaving him room again, going in, going out and he's panting. Lucifer's panting, too. They're both gasping for it, this rhythm, like it's natural to them, to who they are. Elio fucks him steadily, feeling his climax built up slowly, but surely, the edge coming closer and closer and closer until he's dangling from it, one hand gripping some rock, ready to fall. He's fallen before, it's never been this good, this perfect, this beautiful, though.
Lucifer's interlaced their fingers, grabbing his hands hard while he pushes back, taking Elio's thrusts and seeking his own pleasure at the same time, moaning every time Elio pushes over his prostate. They've both come already, it's just a matter of counting down, counting, counting, the rhythm.
When Lucifer comes, first, his asshole clamping down around Elio's cock, it's too much, it's out of time and place and he's falling again, straight down, into him, sinking into his ass all the way as he spends himself, feeling the other man tremble against him, feeling himself tremble, too. They're taking this one together, they're going to land in a pile and their arms are going to be tangled up, their legs, Lucifer's wings around him and - Oh. He moans, desperately, his hips jerking sharply to chase that last second worth of pleasure.
He's so beautiful, like this, Lucifer, Elio staring down at the back of him, the back of his head, shoulders, broad, back, strong, wings, beautiful. Beautiful.
Finally, he sinks down onto his elbow, keeping himself half off the other man's back as a courtesy, breathing raggedly into his temple, making hair sway against his lips. He smells of sex and man and him. He smells like home.
[ One moment, two - and Elio follows him straight over the edge, falls with him, and they fell with him too back then, didn't they, but not like this. Never like this. This time, the landing is soft and warm, it's naked skin and the sensation of fullness as well as Elio's breath against the back of his head, ragged and affected and spent. He blinks both eyes open and glances sideways at Elio's elbow as he sinks down upon it, holding himself up still with his other hand because he's courteous like that, because he'd never presume. Even like this. Even with the both of them, flat on the ground.
With a long, outdrawn exhalation, Lucifer shifts a little. Elio's still buried within him and his arsehole feels thoroughly stretched like this, with his cock holding him open. They're locked together, though, aren't they. For the time being. Frowning, Lucifer reaches for Elio's hand and urges him down on top of his back, inviting him to rest, to lie down and let him take his weight. His wings rise on either side of them, folded along his back (maybe a little like a floating swan, maybe, ugh, he's basically the only angel with wings like fucking water fowl), the tall arches blocking Elio from sight, keeping him hidden behind walls of feathers.
The other man will slip out of him in due time, of course, but for now, Lucifer chooses to simply cherish the moment just as it is, the two of them, exactly as close as they'll ever get. He hasn't thought about his latest text message from L.A. for a good while, though he's aware of it, peripherally, like he's aware of the implications. Five years ago, he would've run from them. He would have tried, at least, knowing full well that he was basically just asking to properly feel the smack-down, that twisted notion of care that he associates with Dad in lieu of anything softer.
He's aware, too, that he's grown since.
Consequently, he keeps his little human hidden away within himself for as long as he can. And stays. ]
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no subject
This man is never not considerate.
It amazes Lucifer time and again.
He spreads his wings a little to the sides as the other man shifts between his legs, anticipating the movement of his body a split second before he lies down along his back, his weight warm and solid. He kisses Lucifer's neck and Lucifer, in turn, reaches up with a shaky hand and runs his fingers through Elio's curls, his movements just the slightest bit uncoordinated. Drunk. He's actually... a little bit drunk.
Bloody hell. ]
Utterly.
[ He shifts. Against the small of his back, he can feel how hard the other man is, again, just from... well. Lucifer's licked arse before and he finds it rather rewarding, too, so that part doesn't surprise him but all the same, it's... well, it's him, isn't it. Right now, Elio's pleasure seems to be all about him and the thought makes his chest tighten almost dangerously, like his immortal heart's threatening to give out.
So, to counteract that burst of vulnerability, Lucifer spreads his thighs a little and wriggles his arse upwards against Elio's thighs and crotch. Speaks, voice hoarse and his hand in Elio's hair pausing in its stroking: ]
I'm definitely relaxed enough, if you want.
no subject
I'm definitely relaxed enough, says the other man and wriggles his ass upwards, pressing against Elio's thighs and crotch and making his cock jerk just at the implication, have me, it means. You can have me. Elio will never cease to be amazed that in this world, there's someone who's willing to give themselves to him, he's lost so many, after all, been left so many times, it had begun seeming a feeble, feverish dream. Something not belonging to reality.
But Lucifer is very real and all solid muscle against him and Elio breathes out hard, muttering I want before pushing himself up on his side a little to stretch for the nightstand, the drawer coming fully equipped with a Bible and the lube that they always bring themselves, because being prepared is part of the game, right? He unscrews the lid and sloppily slicks up his palm, reaching down to stroke his cock a few times, leaving it glistening and wet.
The lube goes back with the Bible, it seems the perfect match, really.
He shifts carefully, it's almost painful, how sensitive he is, his first orgasm still present in his system, lets the head of it slip up between the other man's buttocks, where he's still soaking wet and lax from Elio's mouth. Elio can still taste him. Him and the champagne. It should be interesting. Should be incredible. Licking his lips, Elio rubs his cock head over Lucifer's rim a couple of times, just feeling how wide he is now. When he speaks, his voice is dark, throaty. He presses his forehead in against the side of Lucifer's neck, smells him everywhere, from his own breath to Lucifer's hair tickling his nose. ]
I want you so much, Lucifer.
[ And that said, as if it explains everything and maybe it does, Elio starts pushing in, slowly and carefully, just edges in the head of his cock inch by inch, until that sensation of popping into place, the first few inches of the shaft going easier. Smoother. Oh. Oh, he's so warm, so tight. Elio groans, the sound prolonged as he starts pushing in, movement never losing its care, because Elio doesn't. Not around Lucifer, never. ]
no subject
He isn't certain he can take another orgasm, though, so he's not going to chase it.
Instead, he waits as Elio settles between his thighs again, leaning in over him and rubbing the head of his cock up against the sensitive rim of his arsehole. He sucks in a ragged breath, pushing back a little against the pressure. His cock feels massive like this, furnace-hot. At the touch of his forehead against Lucifer's neck and the heat of his breath, skimming over his skin - warm, smells like him, like musk and sex and sweat - Lucifer smiles and nudges him back, tilting his head a little to do so. I want you so much says Elio and then, Lucifer which feels like a rarity somehow. Elio taking his name in his mouth and releasing it.
He closes his eyes more firmly, breathes out deeply (maybe a little shakily, too) and relaxes just as Elio starts pushing in, the wide girth of his cock popping past his rim with a sharp spark of pleasure-pain. He feels his body stretching in response, opening up obscenely wide, as the other man pushes in the rest of the way carefully (always, always careful). Lips pressed together, he takes a few, uneven breaths before pushing back, slowly, taking him in, letting Elio take up space within him.
A gift, he thinks, but not of anybody else's making. This is theirs, Elio's and his, just two bodies and two minds, sharing whatever space they can. ]
no subject
What they have created together is beautiful. It's worth something, all on its own, blessings or gifts aside. They're worth something, by their own merits. Even God wouldn't have it any different, he's sure and Lucifer most certainly wouldn't.
This will become extremely important at some point, he can tell. When, inevitably, they need to part again. At that time, it'll matter that they chose this for themselves and they will choose the natural separation, too. Elio knows, Elio knows, and he pushes the thought away in order to bury into Lucifer to the base, groaning low in his throat and staring at the perfect gray behind his eyelids as his balls draw up slightly, very first surge of pleasure leaving him trembling. He balances himself on either side of Lucifer's head, keeps his body weight off him enough to be able to move smoothly, pulling back out, slow, slow dragging motion, and then in again. Out, in.
It's beautiful. His breathing is stuttering out of him, his hips straining to go faster.
Elio only holds back another moment, just to give Lucifer time to adjust, then he thrusts inside him harder, upping the pace a little, really moaning now, his whole body feeling oversaturated.
His heart even more so. ]
no subject
There's also the fact that taking someone into your body like this, the vulnerability of it, is...
He swallows. Sways in his back a little for a better angle to Elio's thrusts and pushes back to meet him, taking him in deeper and feeling drunker all the while, not just from the champagne rushing unfiltered through his bloodstream but from the implications, too. Of the way Elio seemingly melts into him, moaning as he chases his own pleasure, their breaths mingling somewhere in the air around them as Lucifer pants, hips working, the other man's cock hitting his prostate like this. It's almost too much, the fullness, the sharp jab of pleasure at each instroke, but it makes him hard again so obviously - and to no one's surprise, probably - his body is very much on board.
It makes him hard and it makes his chest feel curiously light.
He reaches for Elio's hands on either side of his head and twists their fingers together, holding onto him and meeting each thrust, feeling the hard length of the other man's cock sliding deep inside, then out, then in, hollowing him out just to take its place again and again and again. It feels like insanity, like the best sort of abandonment and within long, he's moaning too, hoarser now.
He climaxes again, just like that, his arse clenching madly around Elio's cock and his eyes falling shut, muscles trembling all the way down his back. ]
no subject
Lucifer's interlaced their fingers, grabbing his hands hard while he pushes back, taking Elio's thrusts and seeking his own pleasure at the same time, moaning every time Elio pushes over his prostate. They've both come already, it's just a matter of counting down, counting, counting, the rhythm.
When Lucifer comes, first, his asshole clamping down around Elio's cock, it's too much, it's out of time and place and he's falling again, straight down, into him, sinking into his ass all the way as he spends himself, feeling the other man tremble against him, feeling himself tremble, too. They're taking this one together, they're going to land in a pile and their arms are going to be tangled up, their legs, Lucifer's wings around him and - Oh. He moans, desperately, his hips jerking sharply to chase that last second worth of pleasure.
He's so beautiful, like this, Lucifer, Elio staring down at the back of him, the back of his head, shoulders, broad, back, strong, wings, beautiful. Beautiful.
Finally, he sinks down onto his elbow, keeping himself half off the other man's back as a courtesy, breathing raggedly into his temple, making hair sway against his lips. He smells of sex and man and him. He smells like home.
They've landed, haven't they? They're here. ]
no subject
With a long, outdrawn exhalation, Lucifer shifts a little. Elio's still buried within him and his arsehole feels thoroughly stretched like this, with his cock holding him open. They're locked together, though, aren't they. For the time being. Frowning, Lucifer reaches for Elio's hand and urges him down on top of his back, inviting him to rest, to lie down and let him take his weight. His wings rise on either side of them, folded along his back (maybe a little like a floating swan, maybe, ugh, he's basically the only angel with wings like fucking water fowl), the tall arches blocking Elio from sight, keeping him hidden behind walls of feathers.
The other man will slip out of him in due time, of course, but for now, Lucifer chooses to simply cherish the moment just as it is, the two of them, exactly as close as they'll ever get. He hasn't thought about his latest text message from L.A. for a good while, though he's aware of it, peripherally, like he's aware of the implications. Five years ago, he would've run from them. He would have tried, at least, knowing full well that he was basically just asking to properly feel the smack-down, that twisted notion of care that he associates with Dad in lieu of anything softer.
He's aware, too, that he's grown since.
Consequently, he keeps his little human hidden away within himself for as long as he can. And stays. ]