[ The other man's frankness makes him laugh, once, breathily as he looks around the street, the contrasts of LA making him remember a damp, early morning Rome after a long night out on the town. People do their best and they either succeed or fail, never more apparent than when you're stumbling home, dead drunk and high on love or other substances. Then, there are the really special ones like Elio himself who end up in a cleft between the two poles, neither managing to succeed nor to fail, living in a limbo of neutrality instead, because the extremes keep escaping them. From that spot, you're never more than an audience to other people.
Does the Devil need an audience? Elio looks at him, catches the way he's ogling him, completely unapologetically. He likes that, he likes the lack of pretenses and facades and hiding places. Even with Michel, they had to walk like friends and talk like friends when out. Lucifer isn't exactly looking at him with friendliness right now. He remembers his hard-on from earlier. His body remembers, too. So Elio smiles, not flirtatiously, but pleased all the same. Returns the gesture, eyes following the heavy lines of the other man's body in his suit, his strong neck, sharp jaw, soft lips. Soft lips.
One eyebrow going up, Elio says: ]
If not for the wholly professional purpose of getting me to the police station, I'm hoping I'm here because you like looking at me and are now treating yourself.
[ They may not know right now what sets Elio apart or why they found each other in the first place, sometimes these things happen, Elio has met people before. It's a special gift he has, he thinks. Meeting people. Losing them again. His smile fades a bit and he gives Lucifer's face one last, lingering glance, before raising his cup to his lips and drinking some macchiato to remind himself he's not in heaven anymore.
Neither is Lucifer for that matter, maybe they can have that in common, if nothing else. ]
[ A smile, as warm as it ever gets with Lucifer and openly amused. ]
Won't deny that. Then again, if I did, I would be lying which I never do.
[ He looks away from Elio, watching the street as it stretches out ahead of them. In about half a kilometer, they'll hit a main street and from there, he expects it'll be smooth sailing for another twenty minutes before they're back at the precinct. He picks out his phone, glances at it. And oh, why, he's been so engrossed in their little talk that he's failed to notice it vibrating - there are two messages as well as three missed calls from the Detective. Apparently, Elio's not a suspect anymore.
Someone might have put a target on his back, however.
Glancing sideways at the other man quickly, mumbling a brief New plan, let's go, he steps closer to him, his upperarm rubbing against his shoulder once again. He makes a quick decision and takes them to the right, heading for another main road crossing over just a little further up. Going to hail a cab from there, he decides, and go the rest of the way by wheels. If the other man's in danger, he's not going to make it easy on whomever's out there, busy getting themselves doomed for an eternity in Hell. After all, he's got a mystery to solve.
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Does the Devil need an audience? Elio looks at him, catches the way he's ogling him, completely unapologetically. He likes that, he likes the lack of pretenses and facades and hiding places. Even with Michel, they had to walk like friends and talk like friends when out. Lucifer isn't exactly looking at him with friendliness right now. He remembers his hard-on from earlier. His body remembers, too. So Elio smiles, not flirtatiously, but pleased all the same. Returns the gesture, eyes following the heavy lines of the other man's body in his suit, his strong neck, sharp jaw, soft lips. Soft lips.
One eyebrow going up, Elio says: ]
If not for the wholly professional purpose of getting me to the police station, I'm hoping I'm here because you like looking at me and are now treating yourself.
[ They may not know right now what sets Elio apart or why they found each other in the first place, sometimes these things happen, Elio has met people before. It's a special gift he has, he thinks. Meeting people. Losing them again. His smile fades a bit and he gives Lucifer's face one last, lingering glance, before raising his cup to his lips and drinking some macchiato to remind himself he's not in heaven anymore.
Neither is Lucifer for that matter, maybe they can have that in common, if nothing else. ]
no subject
Won't deny that. Then again, if I did, I would be lying which I never do.
[ He looks away from Elio, watching the street as it stretches out ahead of them. In about half a kilometer, they'll hit a main street and from there, he expects it'll be smooth sailing for another twenty minutes before they're back at the precinct. He picks out his phone, glances at it. And oh, why, he's been so engrossed in their little talk that he's failed to notice it vibrating - there are two messages as well as three missed calls from the Detective. Apparently, Elio's not a suspect anymore.
Someone might have put a target on his back, however.
Glancing sideways at the other man quickly, mumbling a brief New plan, let's go, he steps closer to him, his upperarm rubbing against his shoulder once again. He makes a quick decision and takes them to the right, heading for another main road crossing over just a little further up. Going to hail a cab from there, he decides, and go the rest of the way by wheels. If the other man's in danger, he's not going to make it easy on whomever's out there, busy getting themselves doomed for an eternity in Hell. After all, he's got a mystery to solve.
That, and he likes the man.
In itself a rarity indeed. ]