[ Maybe, by the end of it, as Lucifer keeps thrusting his tongue inside him, opening him up the natural way, it would be okay with just a small declaration of undying devotion, right? His asshole is singing it, at least, clenching wetly around the intrusion and Elio’s breath is saying it, stumbling out of him, uneven and fast and definitely affected. His cock is weeping, where it’s breaking through the surface, just the head, little droplets of precum gathering over the slit, in the water. Elio looks down at himself, how he’s melting, lava-like, beneath Lucifer’s tongue. His mind feels hazy.
Then, Lucifer stops and he knows, he knows, it’s only fair, they have an agenda, after all, multiple bullet points, but he still whines pathetically as the other man steps back, sloshes water onto his face to get the worst ass off of it and Elio is breathing funnily, turning around enough to look at him through wide, hungry eyes, fingers clenching by his sides. Will he really get another thousand years of this and after that, an eternity in intervals? He almost doesn’t dare to believe it, but if nothing else, daring was the one thing Elio always did, regardless of everything. Anything. ]
I let myself be distracted.
[ Before meeting Lucifer, such a long, long time ago in Los Angeles, it really feels like he’s lived several lives since then, maybe Elio would have said, you’re distracting me, but there are certain things you just can’t fault the Devil for and temptation is one of them. Don’t let yourself be distracted, Elio Perlman. Sure enough, he could’ve said no, it would no doubt have been respected, but he’d have been a fool and where’s the fun in that? Elio’s asshole feels more open and receptive for it. He raises an eyebrow at the other man, his faux-perky attitude, contradicted by his hard, hard, huge cock, and turns around again, bending over and letting his still slick fingers run past his balls to his crack, up, asshole, rim slick and pliant and he unceremoniously pushes two fingers in at once, spreading them to loosen the muscle further.
Almost conversationally, he says over one shoulder, only the slightest tremor in his voice: ]
I’d sometimes pray to you while jerking off, back in Italy. Just to feel closer to you. It’s probably not the intended way, but it worked. For me.
[ Let me talk to you, next time, it means. Next time, you won’t need to keep anybody out, least of all yourself.
Push, push, push go his fingers, making him pant slightly. ]
[ The look Elio gives him as he turns around is almost enough to make Lucifer give up on all plans of fucking him with his cock, the remnants of his taste on his tongue egging him on. Take him, open him up, eat him out until he spends himself in the water, just like that, coming apart at the seams. He manages to control himself, however, because he keeps thinking about how tight Elio felt around his tongue, how tight he'll feel around his cock, oh, yes. He can bloody well wait. He stands back on his heels, his wings coming off the poolside to rest in the water beside him.
Then, he watches.
Oh. ]
It's hard for me to hear down here.
[ He tilts his head sideways. Elio's working himself open with two fingers at once and the lube is making his skin look incredibly shiny. His arsehole is expanding gradually, just opening up around the intrusion. On a long, shaky exhalation, Lucifer drifts closer again and puts one, large hand on Elio's left buttock, pulling at it a little for an even better view. ]
Something with the barrier getting in the way or distorting things - I'm not quite sure. Well, obviously, this time around I wasn't listening very carefully but regardless.
[ He shifts closer, enough for his cock to rub up against the inside of Elio's soft thigh. He stays there, getting himself just a hint of friction because judging by the size of him and the size of Elio's pretty hole, this is going to take exactly as much time as it ought.
Gaze fixed on Elio's hand, he can feel his own breathing quickening in time with his. There's something precious about it, he thinks. About catching up to him like that - imagine what he's missed out on! Elio, jerking off! Praying to him all the while! No wonder everything's wilted down here. ]
[ Elio can feel him, can feel him drifting closer behind his back, watching him pleasuring himself, opening himself up, scissoring into his ass with two fingers, then three as he adds another, the stretch making him whine softly. It’s going to get better, of course. He has a very large cock to fit inside, he feels that too, the length of Lucifer pressing against his inner thigh, rubbing himself off slowly, nothing to worry about, the Devil has self-control in bed like no other. Well, that and basically no refractory period. Should anything happen before, Elio will just get five extra minutes to prep. He smiles, looks behind him with an obvious twist of his back, listening to the familiar voice of Lucifer, burned vocal chords and all. He still sounds like home. This was home before he left and this is the home to which he returns - like his mother’s summer house, just more cock and anal play. Fewer peaches.
They had their turn with peaches once. Elio’s smile softens. ]
I’ll come more loudly. Next time, okay?
[ And he adds a fourth finger, feeling the stretch getting evident, getting biting and sharp and delicious and he pushes into himself a few times, accidentally brushing his prostate on the last one, making himself shudder, moan. His free arm lies bent against the edge of the pool and Elio turns his head away from Lucifer now to press his forehead against the crook of his arm, eyes falling shut while he works himself, another thrust, another...
Has to be enough, right? He groans, loudly, pulling his fingers from his own ass with a wet pop and with the utmost focus straightens up, starts lubing up the smaller of the two buttplugs, hands smooth, fast, piano wrists. He remembers New York, suddenly, maybe because it has been such a long time without, no Lucifer, no togetherness, shared history, past, present, future. He remembers the buttplug the other man gave him and that he blocked himself out with while he watched. First leg of the night.
With a bite of his lip, he turns around, holds it out. ]
[ He chuckles distratedly at Elio's comment because the man's busy adding a fourth finger to the display and it's really quite a view from Lucifer's perspective, the way he's thrusting into himself, clearly getting his prostate at least once or twice with those long, nimble pianist fingers... Lucifer's considering maybe taking his hand and upping the pace, giving him a few pushes and make him go deeper and the thought makes his cock jerk in anticipation.
But then, Elio pulls his fingers out and starts lubing up the smaller buttplug and just like that, Lucifer and Lucifer's cock have other priorities. Groaning at the sight alone, he imagines the sight of that silver plug opening the other man up and keeping him stretched, shifting at the thought of it, rubbing the head of his cock against Elio's thigh. It's weeping at the tip and he's crossing his mental fingers quite feverently that it doesn't weep, what, molted lava or what have you. He resists an absurd urge to check.
Of course it doesn't. It's a cock, not a fissure in the Earth.
At Elio's request, he blinks, then grabs the plug from him maybe a bit too fast to be dignified. Sex isn't supposed to be dignified in any case; fun, dirty, crazy, pleasurable - all of those things, yes, but you're also meant to fall apart with it at least a little bit. Granted, Lucifer usually makes that happen for other people but then, well, then came Elio who can't be mojo'ed and who's apparently meant to rule in Hell along with him, who's currently asking him to put that magnificent plug up his magnificent arse.
So get with the programme, Devil.
Trying to breathe evenly, he parts Elio's buttocks again and presses the tip of the plug against his arsehole. ]
Come on, then, darling. Let me in.
[ He pushes the plug inwards slowly, feeling for resistance. Elio's stretched himself very nicely and the first couple of inches are easy enough - then, the plug widens by quite a bit. He pauses. Pushes in. Pauses. Twisting it back and forth a bit, he watches as it sinks into Elio past its widest point, his rim swallowing it up - until it's seated, the base resting snugly in his crack. ]
[ Lucifer's reaction is prompt and Elio smiles as he turns back around, spreading his legs more and showing himself off, feeling the other man's claws skirt over his buttocks as he parts them, pressing the buttplug, all business now, neither of them wants to wait any longer, against his puffed rim and Elio can feel how he's done at least a decent job on his asshole like this, it swallows up the first couple of inches, no problem. Then, it widens and Elio feels that, but more than that, he feels his balls draw up almost painfully as Lucifer tells him, come on, darling, let me in, because oh, oh, oh, does he want to, he wants to feel him, he wants to be closer to him than to his own soul.
Actually, he isn't sure that isn't already the case.
Meanwhile, the Devil shows absolutely no intention of holding back, pushing into him a little bit, pause to let him get used to the sensation, Elio's breath shattered and uneven, pieces of air escaping at undeterminable intervals, his fingers tight and tense where they're gripping the edge of the pool hard, keeping himself balanced and bent over. And Elio works with him, because that's what Elio does, of course, works with the Devil, fucks the Devil, loves the Devil, rules Hell with the Devil. He breathes in deeply, letting his rim widen around the intrusion, feeling it work itself inside more, and more, and more until Lucifer has managed to push it all the way in, the flaring base keeping it seated in him, all width and girth and pressure against his prostate, so his legs start shaking and he isn't panting, but gasping.
He allows himself a moment to just enjoy the intense feeling of full. Knowing he'll be much more full in a moment, in not so very long, right? Oh.
Then, the moment is over and he can't wait to move on. He remembers wanting Lucifer so much those months before they first fucked, remembers yearning and craving and lusting. And he remembers being patient and he remembers denying himself and he remembers. They've come so far since then, he doesn't have to deny himself anything anymore, they've made their choices, they were good ones, too.
Besides, lust is something else entirely, when he has to just close his thighs a little bit to catch one huge Devil cock between them.
Oh. ]
Please. Fuck me with it. [ Please, again, always with the pleases. ] Please, I want it to be you, Lucifer.
[ And patience, too, has taken on a somewhat different meaning when you're part of the cosmic order and co-rule a whole dimension with its King whom you've had to live without for months and the world is none the wiser for it and you will have to carry that longing by yourself forever, Elio knows.
[ He pulls the plug out to its widest point and pushes it back inside Elio, fucking him with it, though he's well aware (painfully so, oh, his poor cock) that the other man isn't asking for that. He looks down at himself, the water shimmering around his thighs. The head of his cock pokes up above the surface, looking red and grotesque and he glances towards the larger plug, wondering if he shouldn't - if just to be safe...
But then, he hears Elio's words on repeat in his mind - I want it to be you and he imagines him by himself for six months, making do, his prayers unheard and unanswered. Elio has been left too many times in his life, Lucifer's well aware. He's left him too, left him waiting and wanting with nothing but himself for comfort. The thought makes his chest ache. Eying the plug and the way Elio's stretched around it, his rim looking whole and glittering from lube, he finally works it out and leaves it on the edge of the pool.
Then, he grabs the lube and properly ruins it with his claws but who cares, out it comes, slick and glossy against his palm. He reaches for himself and wonders briefly at the feel of it, this strange cock that feels somehow exactly as natural between his fingers as the one he's used to. ]
Let me know if it's too much.
[ He tries to keep his voice even as he says it, his balls painfully tight from anticipation and his breath stumbling down his throat when he breathes. Stepping up behind Elio, he presses his cock between his buttocks, parting them and rubbing the head and the shaft against his crack and arsehole slowly. Feeling him. Oh. Oh, he doesn't want to hurt him. He so, so doesn't want to.
Pressing the head of his cock against Elio's opening, he takes a deep breath, steels himself - and pushes inwards, the massive girth of the head forcing the other man open much farther than the plug. He makes himself go slow with what has to be Herculean effort at this point, letting Elio's body set the pace. His wings, meanwhile, fold down on either side of them, dripping water into Elio's hair as they bend inwards protectively and he realises only then, very distantly, that they look sturdy like this, spikes and all, like a small fortress all in themselves.
[ Because Lucifer is kind and caring and amazing and wonderful, all at once, and why does no one give the Devil credit where credit is due, he starts fucking Elio with the buttplug first, widening his rim more and opening him up to a point where it has to be possible, surely. Lucifer probably thinks so, too, because another couple of shallow thrusts of the plug and he pulls it out (carefully), discarding it on the edge of the pool. Elio shifts his weight from one knee on the bench to the other, gasping low in his throat at the feeling of being wide open like this, trying to calm his breathing while the Devil all but slices open the lube to slick himself up. Elio watches, the uneven skin structure, the enormous girth, the head that looks the size of a small size melon, big size cock, yes. The beautiful color of him, darker now, almost burgundy, well-rested wine. Finally, Elio just leans in on his elbows on the edge, folding his arms again in front of himself, forcing himself to relax.
It’s just Lucifer. Beautiful Lucifer. Bigger than life Lucifer.
Lucifer who steps up behind him, letting him know to tell him if it’s too much, because he’s so incredibly good, pushing the massive head of his cock in between his buttocks, letting him feel the volume of it, the pressure, the structure, uneven, thicker skin that rubs at him in a way he can’t even describe properly, like feeling every little nerve ending at once, before finally beginning to push inwards.
Elio’s eyes actually roll up into his head, it’s that big. Oh. Fuck. Yes. The way it rubs over his rim, seats itself inside him, the head blowing him open beyond everything and it’s fortunate that Elio was never averse to openness, that he opens himself gladly, gives gladly. Yes. But he can’t say anything, fingers just tightening around his own forearms until he’s leaving marks, his breathing stuttering out of him, one, two, you have to control it, you have to... Oh.
He groans. It’s in a deeper voice than his normal register, like all sound in him is getting squashed into vibrations and nothing more. Out the corner of his eye, he sees Lucifer’s huge bat wings fold around him and he slowly, properly panting, turns his head to look, to see them rise around him like walls of a fortress and it makes him feel like a princess, walled up with a dragon, pretty much. It’s the most curious, wondrous thing. Wondrous, and dripping soapy water into his hair.
To help Lucifer along, he relaxes as he best can, blinking once, twice, exhaling long and forcibly to open himself up. Like a gift.
[ He sinks in inch by inch and Elio's body gives around him, gives and gives and gives until he can't actually believe that it doesn't come to a grinding, screeching halt, that the other man doesn't tell him enough, make it stop. In general he's always been too much to handle, Lucifer, even the big guy in the sky thought as much and yet, here's Elio, taking him in, settling in Hell so they can be together, following the calls from souls, stuck in their own, boring despair and doing so with a smile on his face. Imagine that such a person can exist.
Imagine.
Elio's pushing back against him, gasping and groaning and clearly taking a cock the size of a small baseball bat up his arse but oh, he's handling it isn't he, he's doing it. Lucifer, meanwhile, is chewing on his own bottom lip something fierce, forcing himself to hold back, to take it slow. Inch by inch. Oh. Oh, it's good, it's - ]
That's because -- [ He groans. The head of his cock pops inside and Elio's so warm, so tight and soft around him. It's pure insanity. ] -- oh - that's because you're you. You're so utterly you.
[ With a long, outdrawn slide, he buries himself to the base in Elio's arse, his cock stretching him open, going no deeper than usual but taking up a lot more space, definitely, by virtue of being wide as, well, Hell. Sorry. He's breathing hard now, panting, his muscles trembling from holding back, but he stays still, letting Elio get used to the sensation of it. He's gripping his own forearms hard enough to bruise and Lucifer leans in over him, then, folding one, clawed hand over Elio's forearms, both of them at once, along with his fingers. He holds him there gently, breathing into his hair, his scarred chest pressing in against his back.
Like that, he stays still, just breathing, feeling the other man breathing in turn, his body warm and tight around him. It's been so long. Oh, it's been nearly forever. ]
[ When the head pops inside, Elio is momentarily distracted from the burn of pain because Lucifer tells him you’re so utterly you and it makes his chest burn just as hard as his ass does, his breathing uneven and shallow as he settles with the harsh sting. Once the other man starts moving again, pushing all the way inside of him, feeling strange and familiar at the same time, he gets more caught up in the sensation of his cock, feeling ribbed and curious and amazing. He’s rubbing over the inside of him, dragging over his rim (oh) and brushing past his prostate, pushing against it by virtue of being wide as a bat (ooooh) and Elio can’t shake it, the deep undercurrent of pleasure/pain that makes his balls draw up and once Lucifer starts to move, once he starts just skirting his prostate, he’s going to come, he can tell. Elio whimpers, tries not to move around too much until Lucifer’s all the way in, then he flexes his fingers. Just to do something. The other man isn’t moving, just stays where he is, so close, heat radiating off of him as he leans in, folding one hand, huge, red, over Elio’s forearm, his hand, claws like bars and wings like a tent. He’s protected here. Elio’s safe.
Since Oliver, he’s never been safe anywhere. Not even with himself. Least of all there.
His eyes well up, so he closes them. Talks to the darkness, Hell’s like that, it’s all of Lucifer’s depths. ]
You feel amazing. So full.
[ A little shaky. A little wet. He turns his head enough to sense Lucifer’s red silhouette out the corner of his eye. They’re so close it would be intolerable, if being less close than this wouldn’t be even more intolerable. Elio would tighten his rim around him, if he could, but he’s blocked so wide, he can’t even control his own muscles, they just feel strung beyond themselves. ]
Will you take me now?
[ What Elio wants to say as he turns his hand over, interlacing his fingers with Lucifer’s long, red ones is this: I want to come with you and I’m so close already, get us there, but it’s too many words and his voice is small, thin, airy. His ass is full and blocked and he hurts, but in the most beautiful way and he wants to hurt more, more beautiful, more amazing.
[ Elio sounds like his voice might break, telling him that he feels amazing, meaning those are complicated tears, hiding in his throat. It's not just Lucifer, the pain echoing beneath the words. It's all the rest, the fall, because Elio's fallen hard in his life. The peach garden behind his parents' house had been beautiful, yes, but overwhelming in its simplicity. With a messy life full of messy relations and feelings, how are you ever going to live up to the notion of Eden? You can't. You can't.
Lucifer knows.
So he tightens his hand around Elio's arms and pulls out slowly, his cock dragging along Elio's inner walls and keeping him wide open around its girth. He pulls out about halfway, then pushes back in, keeping the pace slow still, trying - hoping - not to hurt him. He probably is, though, regardless. Sometimes, hurt can't be avoided but Elio would know better than most. ]
Oh. Oh, this is - you're magnificent --
[ He pulls back out, thrusts in. The pleasure around his cock feels electric, sparks shooting into his groin at the friction. He definitely isn't going to last as long as usual which is yet another novelty. Groaning loudly, his voice guttural and loud enough to make the walls tremble around them, Lucifer starts thrusting more evenly, closer to a pace, his lower body screaming at him to move faster, to go deeper but he takes care of Elio, he takes care and he doesn't rush.
His wings have sort of cocooned around them at this point, one of the spikes getting itself entangled in Elio's curls. Holding on, he thinks, absurdly, but then again, a wing is a bit like a hand, isn't it? His Devil wings more so than the feathered alternatives. Snapping his hips forward, he buries himself to the hilt with just a hint of forcefulness and there, oh, pleasure shooting down his shaft and into his balls, fast and hot. He moans and repeats the motion, feeling Elio's small body shake beneath him.
Reaching into the water carefully, he folds his free hand around the other man's hard cock, letting it slide forwards between his fingers at his next thrust. He can feel his claws scraping against Elio's abdomen and curves them slightly, adjusting. He's starting to learn how to be aware in this form and the thought feels equal parts scary and exhilarating. ]
[ Then comes the pulling out, pushing in, slowly building up. Elio can feel that Lucifer's careful, doesn't rush, though he's probably dying to, he needs it rougher, right? Elio lets himself feel it, how someone's taking care with him, something that has happened so rarely in his life, Oliver, his parents, no one's ever really wanted him to hurt as little as possible. Feel the pain, his father had said, back then, so Elio does, now, lets himself linger in the sharp, hard stretch of Lucifer's cock inside, along with the softer, intense feeling of friction and ribbed skin rubbing against him in all the perfect places. Oh. Oh, that's so nice.
You're magnificent, Lucifer tells him and Elio thinks, he feels magnificent like this, just like this. He feels empowered and protected at the same time, like he could definitely protect himself, but Lucifer is making sure that he doesn't have to. Never again. It's probably Elio's favorite feeling in the whole world, being small, but being in control regardless. It's the way Lucifer takes his time, although they're both aching to go, letting Elio's body catch up. It's the way his wings cocoon around him, closing him off from the world and ready to take the impact, should anything happen and things will always happen.
Like Lucifer will always be there. The first lover Elio's had who won't leave him in any unnatural fashion. Immortal beings, that's the deal. Even if Elio's immortal, too, now, Lucifer has been here for longer than he's even existed and he'll no doubt outlive him on the other side. God's favorite. Elio feels blessed, but of course - so he is.
Then comes the snapping of hips, things speeding up exponentially, Lucifer's hips working against him, slapping against his buttocks and he's massive and hard and amazing inside him and Elio whimpers, feeling his cock jump against his abdomen, his entire body shaking beneath each movement, his torso sliding over the edge of the pool as he's repeatedly pushed forward over his arms. His prostate is taking the brunt of the thrusts now and he's feeling a bit hazy from it, a bit far from himself, yet squarely centered in his body and Elio cries out at a particular good angle, leaning his head down and burying his face at Lucifer's arm, the scent of him, every part of him, so strong.
Tears escape the corners of his eyes.
He can't even think to begin working his own cock, but fortunately, Lucifer's a very giving sort of lover, so he does it for him, with his free hand, clawed and huge, he encircles Elio's cock, letting each thrust push him forward into the loose circle of it and just that, just that extra friction makes Elio see stars and dark edges around his vision. He moans, thrusts forward, the motion pushing him back onto Lucifer's cock at the same time, spearing him, simultaneously and he can't... oh... he can't hold back anymore, he can't even attempt it. His ass clenches around the massive girth in him and he sobs harshly, prostate again, muttering Lucifer's name before he finally comes. Finally, finally, it's been such a long wait, so long.
Whining softly, almost with no air left, his hips snap forward too, and the forward/back motion is leaving him at once touched and fucked and taken and cared for and it all bleeds together, his whole body trembling violently as he spends himself between Lucifer's fingers, clawed, though he's arranged himself so they don't scrape over skin, he's wonderful, just wonderful... ]
I love you. [ It's a breathless whisper. ] Don't stop.
[ The different impressions start to blur together as he fucks Elio, burying himself as deeply as he can, pulling out only partially and going straight back inside. Elio's whimpering beneath him, crying out when he manages to hit something particularly nice and he's got him here, he's got Elio, protected and safe, even with Lucifer at his absolute worst, locked in this despicable form. The heat in his belly keeps building and building, his balls tightening up between his thighs and then, yes, Elio's climaxing around him, spending himself in the water and shaking like a leaf. He sounds breathless. He sounds like there's not enough air to keep him going.
Then he says -
And Lucifer comes. Hard, so hard that his vision goes black for a second, his hips freezing at the next forward-thrust. He's seated to the hilt in Elio's arse, his hand still clenched around the other man's forearms and his other holding his spent cock gently beneath the water. He can feel him everywhere, it seems, from the way he's clenched around his cock to the smell of his hair, of his body. He breathes in deep, letting his climax wash through him.
Then, pause.
I love you.
He thinks it, too, and he shapes the words with his lips against the back of Elio's head, soundless still, because he's afraid of what it might feel like to say it out loud. He doesn't. He can't. He can't break whatever this is, they're already in Hell, he's done enough surely, when it comes to these matters, there are no second chances. Lucifer folds his wings closer around the other man, his body heating up slowly, as if someone's turned on a switch somewhere and that's pretty curious, like, is that an orgasm-thing or a Devil thing or just flat-out ridiculous? Muscles rippling along his back, into his arms and wings, he folds both arms around Elio's front, one hand flat over his cock and crotch, the other over his heart. Then, smoothly, he takes them both out of the water, sliding sideways onto the floor next to the pool and folding his wings around the other man just to keep him exactly as close as possible, his cock still buried in him.
He nuzzles the back of his neck, breathing hot air onto his skin, his earlobe and into his hair.
Around them, his wings are no longer featherless. The feathers remain red and burned-looking, orange and gold, weirdly nice-looking considering the rest of the package but apparently, that's how it is now.
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no subject
Then, Lucifer stops and he knows, he knows, it’s only fair, they have an agenda, after all, multiple bullet points, but he still whines pathetically as the other man steps back, sloshes water onto his face to get the worst ass off of it and Elio is breathing funnily, turning around enough to look at him through wide, hungry eyes, fingers clenching by his sides. Will he really get another thousand years of this and after that, an eternity in intervals? He almost doesn’t dare to believe it, but if nothing else, daring was the one thing Elio always did, regardless of everything. Anything. ]
I let myself be distracted.
[ Before meeting Lucifer, such a long, long time ago in Los Angeles, it really feels like he’s lived several lives since then, maybe Elio would have said, you’re distracting me, but there are certain things you just can’t fault the Devil for and temptation is one of them. Don’t let yourself be distracted, Elio Perlman. Sure enough, he could’ve said no, it would no doubt have been respected, but he’d have been a fool and where’s the fun in that? Elio’s asshole feels more open and receptive for it. He raises an eyebrow at the other man, his faux-perky attitude, contradicted by his hard, hard, huge cock, and turns around again, bending over and letting his still slick fingers run past his balls to his crack, up, asshole, rim slick and pliant and he unceremoniously pushes two fingers in at once, spreading them to loosen the muscle further.
Almost conversationally, he says over one shoulder, only the slightest tremor in his voice: ]
I’d sometimes pray to you while jerking off, back in Italy. Just to feel closer to you. It’s probably not the intended way, but it worked. For me.
[ Let me talk to you, next time, it means. Next time, you won’t need to keep anybody out, least of all yourself.
Push, push, push go his fingers, making him pant slightly. ]
no subject
Then, he watches.
Oh. ]
It's hard for me to hear down here.
[ He tilts his head sideways. Elio's working himself open with two fingers at once and the lube is making his skin look incredibly shiny. His arsehole is expanding gradually, just opening up around the intrusion. On a long, shaky exhalation, Lucifer drifts closer again and puts one, large hand on Elio's left buttock, pulling at it a little for an even better view. ]
Something with the barrier getting in the way or distorting things - I'm not quite sure. Well, obviously, this time around I wasn't listening very carefully but regardless.
[ He shifts closer, enough for his cock to rub up against the inside of Elio's soft thigh. He stays there, getting himself just a hint of friction because judging by the size of him and the size of Elio's pretty hole, this is going to take exactly as much time as it ought.
Gaze fixed on Elio's hand, he can feel his own breathing quickening in time with his. There's something precious about it, he thinks. About catching up to him like that - imagine what he's missed out on! Elio, jerking off! Praying to him all the while! No wonder everything's wilted down here. ]
no subject
They had their turn with peaches once. Elio’s smile softens. ]
I’ll come more loudly. Next time, okay?
[ And he adds a fourth finger, feeling the stretch getting evident, getting biting and sharp and delicious and he pushes into himself a few times, accidentally brushing his prostate on the last one, making himself shudder, moan. His free arm lies bent against the edge of the pool and Elio turns his head away from Lucifer now to press his forehead against the crook of his arm, eyes falling shut while he works himself, another thrust, another...
Has to be enough, right? He groans, loudly, pulling his fingers from his own ass with a wet pop and with the utmost focus straightens up, starts lubing up the smaller of the two buttplugs, hands smooth, fast, piano wrists. He remembers New York, suddenly, maybe because it has been such a long time without, no Lucifer, no togetherness, shared history, past, present, future. He remembers the buttplug the other man gave him and that he blocked himself out with while he watched. First leg of the night.
With a bite of his lip, he turns around, holds it out. ]
Help me put it in?
no subject
But then, Elio pulls his fingers out and starts lubing up the smaller buttplug and just like that, Lucifer and Lucifer's cock have other priorities. Groaning at the sight alone, he imagines the sight of that silver plug opening the other man up and keeping him stretched, shifting at the thought of it, rubbing the head of his cock against Elio's thigh. It's weeping at the tip and he's crossing his mental fingers quite feverently that it doesn't weep, what, molted lava or what have you. He resists an absurd urge to check.
Of course it doesn't. It's a cock, not a fissure in the Earth.
At Elio's request, he blinks, then grabs the plug from him maybe a bit too fast to be dignified. Sex isn't supposed to be dignified in any case; fun, dirty, crazy, pleasurable - all of those things, yes, but you're also meant to fall apart with it at least a little bit. Granted, Lucifer usually makes that happen for other people but then, well, then came Elio who can't be mojo'ed and who's apparently meant to rule in Hell along with him, who's currently asking him to put that magnificent plug up his magnificent arse.
So get with the programme, Devil.
Trying to breathe evenly, he parts Elio's buttocks again and presses the tip of the plug against his arsehole. ]
Come on, then, darling. Let me in.
[ He pushes the plug inwards slowly, feeling for resistance. Elio's stretched himself very nicely and the first couple of inches are easy enough - then, the plug widens by quite a bit. He pauses. Pushes in. Pauses. Twisting it back and forth a bit, he watches as it sinks into Elio past its widest point, his rim swallowing it up - until it's seated, the base resting snugly in his crack. ]
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Actually, he isn't sure that isn't already the case.
Meanwhile, the Devil shows absolutely no intention of holding back, pushing into him a little bit, pause to let him get used to the sensation, Elio's breath shattered and uneven, pieces of air escaping at undeterminable intervals, his fingers tight and tense where they're gripping the edge of the pool hard, keeping himself balanced and bent over. And Elio works with him, because that's what Elio does, of course, works with the Devil, fucks the Devil, loves the Devil, rules Hell with the Devil. He breathes in deeply, letting his rim widen around the intrusion, feeling it work itself inside more, and more, and more until Lucifer has managed to push it all the way in, the flaring base keeping it seated in him, all width and girth and pressure against his prostate, so his legs start shaking and he isn't panting, but gasping.
He allows himself a moment to just enjoy the intense feeling of full. Knowing he'll be much more full in a moment, in not so very long, right? Oh.
Then, the moment is over and he can't wait to move on. He remembers wanting Lucifer so much those months before they first fucked, remembers yearning and craving and lusting. And he remembers being patient and he remembers denying himself and he remembers. They've come so far since then, he doesn't have to deny himself anything anymore, they've made their choices, they were good ones, too.
Besides, lust is something else entirely, when he has to just close his thighs a little bit to catch one huge Devil cock between them.
Oh. ]
Please. Fuck me with it. [ Please, again, always with the pleases. ] Please, I want it to be you, Lucifer.
[ And patience, too, has taken on a somewhat different meaning when you're part of the cosmic order and co-rule a whole dimension with its King whom you've had to live without for months and the world is none the wiser for it and you will have to carry that longing by yourself forever, Elio knows.
Not here, though. Here, they share. ]
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But then, he hears Elio's words on repeat in his mind - I want it to be you and he imagines him by himself for six months, making do, his prayers unheard and unanswered. Elio has been left too many times in his life, Lucifer's well aware. He's left him too, left him waiting and wanting with nothing but himself for comfort. The thought makes his chest ache. Eying the plug and the way Elio's stretched around it, his rim looking whole and glittering from lube, he finally works it out and leaves it on the edge of the pool.
Then, he grabs the lube and properly ruins it with his claws but who cares, out it comes, slick and glossy against his palm. He reaches for himself and wonders briefly at the feel of it, this strange cock that feels somehow exactly as natural between his fingers as the one he's used to. ]
Let me know if it's too much.
[ He tries to keep his voice even as he says it, his balls painfully tight from anticipation and his breath stumbling down his throat when he breathes. Stepping up behind Elio, he presses his cock between his buttocks, parting them and rubbing the head and the shaft against his crack and arsehole slowly. Feeling him. Oh. Oh, he doesn't want to hurt him. He so, so doesn't want to.
Pressing the head of his cock against Elio's opening, he takes a deep breath, steels himself - and pushes inwards, the massive girth of the head forcing the other man open much farther than the plug. He makes himself go slow with what has to be Herculean effort at this point, letting Elio's body set the pace. His wings, meanwhile, fold down on either side of them, dripping water into Elio's hair as they bend inwards protectively and he realises only then, very distantly, that they look sturdy like this, spikes and all, like a small fortress all in themselves.
Dangerous, yes, but to other beings. Not them.
Not him and not Elio, either. ]
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It’s just Lucifer. Beautiful Lucifer. Bigger than life Lucifer.
Lucifer who steps up behind him, letting him know to tell him if it’s too much, because he’s so incredibly good, pushing the massive head of his cock in between his buttocks, letting him feel the volume of it, the pressure, the structure, uneven, thicker skin that rubs at him in a way he can’t even describe properly, like feeling every little nerve ending at once, before finally beginning to push inwards.
Elio’s eyes actually roll up into his head, it’s that big. Oh. Fuck. Yes. The way it rubs over his rim, seats itself inside him, the head blowing him open beyond everything and it’s fortunate that Elio was never averse to openness, that he opens himself gladly, gives gladly. Yes. But he can’t say anything, fingers just tightening around his own forearms until he’s leaving marks, his breathing stuttering out of him, one, two, you have to control it, you have to... Oh.
He groans. It’s in a deeper voice than his normal register, like all sound in him is getting squashed into vibrations and nothing more. Out the corner of his eye, he sees Lucifer’s huge bat wings fold around him and he slowly, properly panting, turns his head to look, to see them rise around him like walls of a fortress and it makes him feel like a princess, walled up with a dragon, pretty much. It’s the most curious, wondrous thing. Wondrous, and dripping soapy water into his hair.
To help Lucifer along, he relaxes as he best can, blinking once, twice, exhaling long and forcibly to open himself up. Like a gift.
This is the blessing. He starts pushing back. ]
You’re - [ Pant pant. ] - never too much.
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Imagine.
Elio's pushing back against him, gasping and groaning and clearly taking a cock the size of a small baseball bat up his arse but oh, he's handling it isn't he, he's doing it. Lucifer, meanwhile, is chewing on his own bottom lip something fierce, forcing himself to hold back, to take it slow. Inch by inch. Oh. Oh, it's good, it's - ]
That's because -- [ He groans. The head of his cock pops inside and Elio's so warm, so tight and soft around him. It's pure insanity. ] -- oh - that's because you're you. You're so utterly you.
[ With a long, outdrawn slide, he buries himself to the base in Elio's arse, his cock stretching him open, going no deeper than usual but taking up a lot more space, definitely, by virtue of being wide as, well, Hell. Sorry. He's breathing hard now, panting, his muscles trembling from holding back, but he stays still, letting Elio get used to the sensation of it. He's gripping his own forearms hard enough to bruise and Lucifer leans in over him, then, folding one, clawed hand over Elio's forearms, both of them at once, along with his fingers. He holds him there gently, breathing into his hair, his scarred chest pressing in against his back.
Like that, he stays still, just breathing, feeling the other man breathing in turn, his body warm and tight around him. It's been so long. Oh, it's been nearly forever. ]
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Since Oliver, he’s never been safe anywhere. Not even with himself. Least of all there.
His eyes well up, so he closes them. Talks to the darkness, Hell’s like that, it’s all of Lucifer’s depths. ]
You feel amazing. So full.
[ A little shaky. A little wet. He turns his head enough to sense Lucifer’s red silhouette out the corner of his eye. They’re so close it would be intolerable, if being less close than this wouldn’t be even more intolerable. Elio would tighten his rim around him, if he could, but he’s blocked so wide, he can’t even control his own muscles, they just feel strung beyond themselves. ]
Will you take me now?
[ What Elio wants to say as he turns his hand over, interlacing his fingers with Lucifer’s long, red ones is this: I want to come with you and I’m so close already, get us there, but it’s too many words and his voice is small, thin, airy. His ass is full and blocked and he hurts, but in the most beautiful way and he wants to hurt more, more beautiful, more amazing.
He wants. ]
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Lucifer knows.
So he tightens his hand around Elio's arms and pulls out slowly, his cock dragging along Elio's inner walls and keeping him wide open around its girth. He pulls out about halfway, then pushes back in, keeping the pace slow still, trying - hoping - not to hurt him. He probably is, though, regardless. Sometimes, hurt can't be avoided but Elio would know better than most. ]
Oh. Oh, this is - you're magnificent --
[ He pulls back out, thrusts in. The pleasure around his cock feels electric, sparks shooting into his groin at the friction. He definitely isn't going to last as long as usual which is yet another novelty. Groaning loudly, his voice guttural and loud enough to make the walls tremble around them, Lucifer starts thrusting more evenly, closer to a pace, his lower body screaming at him to move faster, to go deeper but he takes care of Elio, he takes care and he doesn't rush.
His wings have sort of cocooned around them at this point, one of the spikes getting itself entangled in Elio's curls. Holding on, he thinks, absurdly, but then again, a wing is a bit like a hand, isn't it? His Devil wings more so than the feathered alternatives. Snapping his hips forward, he buries himself to the hilt with just a hint of forcefulness and there, oh, pleasure shooting down his shaft and into his balls, fast and hot. He moans and repeats the motion, feeling Elio's small body shake beneath him.
Reaching into the water carefully, he folds his free hand around the other man's hard cock, letting it slide forwards between his fingers at his next thrust. He can feel his claws scraping against Elio's abdomen and curves them slightly, adjusting. He's starting to learn how to be aware in this form and the thought feels equal parts scary and exhilarating. ]
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You're magnificent, Lucifer tells him and Elio thinks, he feels magnificent like this, just like this. He feels empowered and protected at the same time, like he could definitely protect himself, but Lucifer is making sure that he doesn't have to. Never again. It's probably Elio's favorite feeling in the whole world, being small, but being in control regardless. It's the way Lucifer takes his time, although they're both aching to go, letting Elio's body catch up. It's the way his wings cocoon around him, closing him off from the world and ready to take the impact, should anything happen and things will always happen.
Like Lucifer will always be there. The first lover Elio's had who won't leave him in any unnatural fashion. Immortal beings, that's the deal. Even if Elio's immortal, too, now, Lucifer has been here for longer than he's even existed and he'll no doubt outlive him on the other side. God's favorite. Elio feels blessed, but of course - so he is.
Then comes the snapping of hips, things speeding up exponentially, Lucifer's hips working against him, slapping against his buttocks and he's massive and hard and amazing inside him and Elio whimpers, feeling his cock jump against his abdomen, his entire body shaking beneath each movement, his torso sliding over the edge of the pool as he's repeatedly pushed forward over his arms. His prostate is taking the brunt of the thrusts now and he's feeling a bit hazy from it, a bit far from himself, yet squarely centered in his body and Elio cries out at a particular good angle, leaning his head down and burying his face at Lucifer's arm, the scent of him, every part of him, so strong.
Tears escape the corners of his eyes.
He can't even think to begin working his own cock, but fortunately, Lucifer's a very giving sort of lover, so he does it for him, with his free hand, clawed and huge, he encircles Elio's cock, letting each thrust push him forward into the loose circle of it and just that, just that extra friction makes Elio see stars and dark edges around his vision. He moans, thrusts forward, the motion pushing him back onto Lucifer's cock at the same time, spearing him, simultaneously and he can't... oh... he can't hold back anymore, he can't even attempt it. His ass clenches around the massive girth in him and he sobs harshly, prostate again, muttering Lucifer's name before he finally comes. Finally, finally, it's been such a long wait, so long.
Whining softly, almost with no air left, his hips snap forward too, and the forward/back motion is leaving him at once touched and fucked and taken and cared for and it all bleeds together, his whole body trembling violently as he spends himself between Lucifer's fingers, clawed, though he's arranged himself so they don't scrape over skin, he's wonderful, just wonderful... ]
I love you. [ It's a breathless whisper. ] Don't stop.
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Then he says -
And Lucifer comes. Hard, so hard that his vision goes black for a second, his hips freezing at the next forward-thrust. He's seated to the hilt in Elio's arse, his hand still clenched around the other man's forearms and his other holding his spent cock gently beneath the water. He can feel him everywhere, it seems, from the way he's clenched around his cock to the smell of his hair, of his body. He breathes in deep, letting his climax wash through him.
Then, pause.
I love you.
He thinks it, too, and he shapes the words with his lips against the back of Elio's head, soundless still, because he's afraid of what it might feel like to say it out loud. He doesn't. He can't. He can't break whatever this is, they're already in Hell, he's done enough surely, when it comes to these matters, there are no second chances. Lucifer folds his wings closer around the other man, his body heating up slowly, as if someone's turned on a switch somewhere and that's pretty curious, like, is that an orgasm-thing or a Devil thing or just flat-out ridiculous? Muscles rippling along his back, into his arms and wings, he folds both arms around Elio's front, one hand flat over his cock and crotch, the other over his heart. Then, smoothly, he takes them both out of the water, sliding sideways onto the floor next to the pool and folding his wings around the other man just to keep him exactly as close as possible, his cock still buried in him.
He nuzzles the back of his neck, breathing hot air onto his skin, his earlobe and into his hair.
Around them, his wings are no longer featherless. The feathers remain red and burned-looking, orange and gold, weirdly nice-looking considering the rest of the package but apparently, that's how it is now.
Apparently, that's how he is. ]