[ Earth, Lucifer says and lands, Elio feels it in the way his body gives against the ground. He doesn’t know how long they were in flight, in air, it feels like a very brief moment in time, yet at the same time, it feels like forever, like his skin is freezing cold now due to draft winds, especially his face. Luckily, like always, Lucifer is furnace hot, the grass sizzles and goes sooty beneath him, so Elio turns his face in against his chest. His own hair is being nuzzled. Above them, Lucifer’s giant batwings fold around them, keeping out the night.
In the darkness, Elio looks up at him, the way his red eyes are gleaming. ]
Don’t leave me here, Lucifer. [ Of course don’t leave me here can mean many things. Don’t leave me here, not alone. Don’t go. You’re here now, but for how long. Elio’s voice feels thick and vulnerable in his throat, like everything else on him currently, it feels so fucking tired, and it’s difficult to say which one he means, maybe all of them at once, because he’s greedy. Lucifer has taught him how.
It happens accidentally, mostly, how tears are suddenly trickling down his face, warm and wet against his dry, cold cheeks. Sobbing quietly, he dries himself off against the bright radiance of Lucifer’s upper chest, dark red skin, scarred and burned. The hard outline of muscle. Softer slope of shoulder. Elio tightens his hold around the other man’s neck, harshly, desperately. Lucifer won’t break, Lucifer is strong, after all, Lucifer won’t die, unlike... ] I want to go home.
[ Home meaning, Hell. Home meaning, where you are. ]
[ Elio feels small like this, smaller than ever, but not in any way related to size or spirit. No, it's another thing entirely, something to do with how big the trees feel around them like this, how broad the shadows seem. The black sky further up, stretching outwards, endless. He thinks that maybe they're both comparatively minuscule at this very moment; he remembers standing up for the first time since his Fall, his skin burned to a crisp, his feathers little but ash and soot, and he'd looked up at the barrier further up, at the realm stretching around him on all sides, its huge silence swallowing him up.
Yes, this is the same.
So when Elio starts crying, burying into him and clinging with what little strength he's got left, Lucifer holds him close and stays where he is, as he is, because there's very little else to do. He never wanted Elio to fall, not like this, to hit the ground and to feel abandoned once again, like he hasn't suffered enough. He never wanted any of that.
It's the same, old story.
Eyes smarting, he nods and breathes Elio in, that sweet, surprisingly deep personal scent of his settling in his body like a particularly important kind of oxygen. It'll have to be enough, for now, but it obviously isn't so he keeps breathing, keeps inhaling him, just to stay fooled for a little longer. ]
I know, my darling.
[ Lucifer doesn't tell him of course or you will or I won't, mostly because he doesn't know anything beyond what's happening right this moment, that Elio is still breathing in his arms, that the air is fresher here, cool and crisp. It feels better somehow, and not just for the obvious reasons of this being Earth as compared to, well, Hell.
He senses the forest reacting to them slowly, in stages, something drawing closer through the undergrowth, birds landing in the tree crowns further up. They'll come as close as they like - for now, Lucifer simply sits, curved in around Elio, keeping him protected with his wings as well as the rest of him. ]
[ The other man embraces him, from all sides at once, arms around him, upper body bending in, wings wrapping around them like a tent. Elio cries against his shoulder, sobs and breathes too hard and yet, not as hard as earlier, the air here feeling thinner, easier to swallow, chew. His body feasts on it. Elio lets his tears cleanse his skin for ash and soot. There's relief to it, to just being allowed to feel, the way he's always been allowed and encouraged to do with Lucifer. Lucifer doesn't want him swallowing down anything but his cock, normally. He doesn't want him to bite anything back, right? Nothing at all. No feelings, definitely no cocks.
When he leaves, because he'll leave, his lies by omission say as much, that is what Elio is giving up. Which is to say, everything. Absolutely everything.
He doesn't hold it against Lucifer, because he understands and for the first time in many, many years, he curses the fact that he does, that he sees it from an outside perspective, too. Neither of them have gone into this completely willingly, if it had been a choice? They'd have chosen differently, they'd found another way, whatever it would take, they were desperate then as they're desperate now.
No, Elio was blessed and Lucifer was punished, the two pieces belonging together. Elio a gift and Lucifer its recipient. The strange and mysterious ways in which God operates. Dad, Lucifer would say. Father-in-law, Elio would elaborate.
As far as Elio can tell, neither of them are going to Heaven, though, so there's only this. The quiet, the sound of the wind in the trees, the forest around them, Lucifer breathing, in, out, in. Slowly, his arm around Lucifer's neck relaxes, collapses back into his lap.
For a little while longer, he keeps on crying, then he falls asleep, as the Devil had told him to from the beginning. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
In the darkness, Elio looks up at him, the way his red eyes are gleaming. ]
Don’t leave me here, Lucifer. [ Of course don’t leave me here can mean many things. Don’t leave me here, not alone. Don’t go. You’re here now, but for how long. Elio’s voice feels thick and vulnerable in his throat, like everything else on him currently, it feels so fucking tired, and it’s difficult to say which one he means, maybe all of them at once, because he’s greedy. Lucifer has taught him how.
It happens accidentally, mostly, how tears are suddenly trickling down his face, warm and wet against his dry, cold cheeks. Sobbing quietly, he dries himself off against the bright radiance of Lucifer’s upper chest, dark red skin, scarred and burned. The hard outline of muscle. Softer slope of shoulder. Elio tightens his hold around the other man’s neck, harshly, desperately. Lucifer won’t break, Lucifer is strong, after all, Lucifer won’t die, unlike... ] I want to go home.
[ Home meaning, Hell. Home meaning, where you are. ]
no subject
Yes, this is the same.
So when Elio starts crying, burying into him and clinging with what little strength he's got left, Lucifer holds him close and stays where he is, as he is, because there's very little else to do. He never wanted Elio to fall, not like this, to hit the ground and to feel abandoned once again, like he hasn't suffered enough. He never wanted any of that.
It's the same, old story.
Eyes smarting, he nods and breathes Elio in, that sweet, surprisingly deep personal scent of his settling in his body like a particularly important kind of oxygen. It'll have to be enough, for now, but it obviously isn't so he keeps breathing, keeps inhaling him, just to stay fooled for a little longer. ]
I know, my darling.
[ Lucifer doesn't tell him of course or you will or I won't, mostly because he doesn't know anything beyond what's happening right this moment, that Elio is still breathing in his arms, that the air is fresher here, cool and crisp. It feels better somehow, and not just for the obvious reasons of this being Earth as compared to, well, Hell.
He senses the forest reacting to them slowly, in stages, something drawing closer through the undergrowth, birds landing in the tree crowns further up. They'll come as close as they like - for now, Lucifer simply sits, curved in around Elio, keeping him protected with his wings as well as the rest of him. ]
no subject
When he leaves, because he'll leave, his lies by omission say as much, that is what Elio is giving up. Which is to say, everything. Absolutely everything.
He doesn't hold it against Lucifer, because he understands and for the first time in many, many years, he curses the fact that he does, that he sees it from an outside perspective, too. Neither of them have gone into this completely willingly, if it had been a choice? They'd have chosen differently, they'd found another way, whatever it would take, they were desperate then as they're desperate now.
No, Elio was blessed and Lucifer was punished, the two pieces belonging together. Elio a gift and Lucifer its recipient. The strange and mysterious ways in which God operates. Dad, Lucifer would say. Father-in-law, Elio would elaborate.
As far as Elio can tell, neither of them are going to Heaven, though, so there's only this. The quiet, the sound of the wind in the trees, the forest around them, Lucifer breathing, in, out, in. Slowly, his arm around Lucifer's neck relaxes, collapses back into his lap.
For a little while longer, he keeps on crying, then he falls asleep, as the Devil had told him to from the beginning. ]