[ 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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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. ]