Dumat: The Dragon of Silence (nearestvessel) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-08-15 16:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, lucifer morningstar, samandriel |
Who: Samandriel and Lucifer
What: Samandriel and his fake ID go to visit Lucifer at the bar.
When: Thursday 15 August
Where: Lux & Lucifer's place
Rating: NC-17, for porn, warning for relations between a 17 year old and an adult.
Status: Complete
There was a man, an older man, and he kept coming around to the Jamba Juice and making eyes at Samandriel. Eyes and little innuendos. Samandriel was curious. More than curious. Sure, people had shown interest in him before, but he’d never felt anything back. With this guy? He did. It was strange, strange enough for him to do something drastic like breaking the rules.
It was easier than he thought to get someone to vouch for him to get into the piano bar (and he knew that existed because the older man had given him his card and a charming little smirk to go with it,) but all dressed up like this in the suit he only wore for orchestra concerts and funerals, Samandriel felt far out of his depth.
He held his fancy looking glass of juice (what? he broke the rules to get in and that was enough for one night,) eyes scanning the crowd nervously while he tried to find the man. Lucifer. Even his name sent shivers down Samandriel’s spine. He was looking so hard that he didn’t realize that he probably stood out like a sore thumb.
Lux was the kind of place that catered to the well off, to those who liked to think themselves important and those who might have been important -- sometimes those two things were a fine line. As it was, Lucifer owned the place -- he didn't necessarily do any one job (although sometimes he did like playing piano), so much as wander about and make sure everything was as he liked it. Today he was seated at the bar, sipping at an extra dry martini. It was a Thursday night, and so while busy, it was not packed.
So of course he noticed when the boy walked in. The employee from the juice bar, whose face was a little too round to be called beautiful, but whose nose and lips were defined so well that he could easily hover between pretty and cute. He could be more, of course, with the right lead. Lucifer might have had a person in mind.
He turned in his seat, back straight, and silently watched the boy with an amused expression until he found what he was looking for.
Well. Who he was looking for.
Samandriel smiled and engaged politely with a middleaged woman who seemed to think that he was just the cutest thing and then lewdly implied that he could be good for other things. The word ‘boy toy’ actually fell out of her mouth. Samandriel just smiled and demured before he looked up and saw him at the bar. Him. His heart did the little flippy fluttery thing in his chest.
He excused himself and went over to the man. Without the excuse of blended juice drinks between them, Samandriel found that he didn’t really know what to do other than stare nervously at Lucifer. Nervous, sure, but also very definitely interested. “Um...hi.” His suit chafed. Somehow his uniform felt more comfortable than all this.
The suit looked nice on him, but Lucifer had to admit an almost unorthodox fondness in the boys' usual attire of bright orange polo shirt and black slacks. The cheery colors had a certain je ne sais quoi to them. "Hello. You're looking quite dapper today," he greeted with a smile this short of coy. "Would you like to have a seat?" He gestured to the high backed chair next to his at the bar.
“Yes, thank you,” Samandriel responded, ducking his head as he sat on the chair. He sipped his cranberry juice. He didn’t even know you could get juice at a bar, though he supposed he should have thought of that since most people didn’t just have liquor straight in glasses.
“You, em, gave me your card, sir so I thought...that maybe this could be a good time to be the sometime I came to see you?” he asked, lifting his gaze up to meet Lucifer’s, brows tipped inward in a mix of hopeful worry.
"Lucifer," he corrected gently, turning his chair back around to half face the bar and half Samandriel. "I don't mind that you've come at all. It's nice to see you have a night off." He was only vaguely surprised that this was the truth. This young, round faced boy was someone he had interest in, for reasons even he couldn't quite explain. Probably it had something to do with blue eyes and lips that were almost obscenely red. But there was an eagerness to please in him too that was interesting. Lucifer doubted very much that he was that invested in Jamba Juice. What teenager really liked their fast food job enough to fake it that well?
"Are you enjoying yourself, Samandriel?"
Samandriel licked his lips, feeling himself blush with the way his name just rolled off those lips like it was meant to. Did Lucifer know that his voice was positively obscene? Probably he did, and really Samandriel couldn’t figure out how to tell him anyway.
“I am now,” he said, a little thrill running through him at just being that bold. “I have most Thursday nights off actually. Wednesday and Thursday. It just...I had to figure out how to get in.” He would’ve blushed more if it were possible.
"My number is on that card I gave you," Lucifer pointed out, watching that blush spread across Samandriel's cheeks. "You should have called, you wouldn't have had to lie your way in." But he was amused at how bold the boy was -- or thought he was, maybe. It was cute. Everyone appreciated cute now and again.
"You look good in a suit." Lucifer was sure that he'd look better in a nicer suit, but for the moment that was neither here nor there.
“Oh, thank you,” Samandriel said, feeling foolish, and just glad to take the compliment and go with it. His parents had taught him how important manners were. He had another sip of his juice, but his attention was only alternately for Lucifer and the floor. “Everyone else’s seems to be nicer.” It was true. His had come off the rack at Kohl’s. It wasn’t anything fancy. The things here were fancy.
“Can I ask you something, Lucifer, sir?” He looked up again, earnest blue eyes meeting the other man’s.
"Lucifer," he corrected again. Sir was for old people, boring people and in the bedroom. He was neither, nor in the proper location. Still, he rose a brow and offered an expression that was a clear prompt for Samandriel to ask away as he pleased.
Samandriel licked his lips, blood seemingly pumping impossibly harder as he got lost for a moment in those eyes. “Why me?” And there was hope, so much hope welling up in him that maybe, just maybe this man felt the same kind of thing. It might not have been first love for him, because he didn’t think it would be. Lucifer was older. But the fluttering and the wanting and all of that. Maybe that was reciprocated, right?
"Because you're interesting, Samandriel." Lucifer thought it a fair question, and prided himself on having a truthful answer. He'd asked himself the same thing upon meeting the boy, actually. Several times. It wasn't really his style to go after the part time high school employees of the local smoothie joint. It really, really wasn't.
"Because I think you seem smart. And earnest. And you wear slacks nicely." Or rather, they fit him nicely.
Samandriel considered it for a moment, maybe for too long because he got lost in staring at Lucifer’s eyes and the way his heart pounded in his chest and how much he wanted to kiss those lips. “I don’t really know what I’m doing most of the time,” he said sheepishly. It might not have been true if you looked at his transcripts, but he felt like it. “But thank you, si-” He cut himself off, “Lucifer.”
He looked down again and asked quietly, “Do we have to stay here? It’s not...not that I don’t like your establishment. I just feel very...exposed.” Samandriel could feel himself blushing more. He didn’t particularly like it.
Another smile was offered, and Lucifer slid his half empty drink further across the bar, signifying he was done with it.
"We can go," he agreed, standing and smoothing down the jacket to his suit while he waited for Samandriel to follow him. It was bad, he knew. Leaving the bar with a boy not even old enough to legitimately be allowed in this place. Even so, as they exited, leaving the smooth music of piano behind them only to have the sounds of traffic greet them on the sidewalk, he couldn't seem to care quite as much as he knew he should.
Maybe it was the way Samandriel looked at him -- bright blue eyes and heart on his sleeve. He fished his car keys out of his pocket. "Did you drive here?"
“No,” Samandriel said softly. “I got someone else to and uh, told him I’d take a cab back.” Which was true, he was going to. He just didn’t want to borrow his parents’ car for something like this, something that might turn into the tryst he wanted it to. Or maybe more. Samandriel didn’t really know what to hope for.
He felt even smaller now next to Lucifer, but it was a good kind of smaller, like Lucifer would pull him close and protect him. Samandriel was used to people trying to protect him, but never actively wanting it. Now was different. Lucifer was different. “Not that I can’t drive. I mean, I can. I just don’t have my own car yet.”
Too cute. Lucifer was a little surprised at the swell of fondness building up in him, and had to fight it back down again with a little clearing of his throat. "That's okay. That's good." He settled a hand on the small of Samandriel's back, leading him to a shiny black 2013 Lexus IS parked in front of the bar. "Less convoluted this way."
Because, frankly, when planning on taking a boy home with him who was probably at least a good twenty years younger, the last thing he wanted to worry about was whether or not he'd driven his mothers' SUV here and how to deal with transport later on. He unlocked the car doors, which was something even he found laughable, considering it was a convertible. "Hop in."
That little possessive hand at the small of his back brought even faster, harder flutters and...other things that Samandriel didn’t want to think about because if he thought about them, it’d only make it worse and he wanted to be something other than the quiet little nervous virgin.
He got in the convertible, opened the door and buckled his seat belt and everything. He sat with his hands in his lap inhaling the smell of leather and luxury. “You have a very nice car,” he said, for lack of anything else. There were so many buttons that he should just keep his hands where they were so that he didn’t break anything accidentally.
He did have a nice car. Samandriel would find, eventually, that Lucifer had a lot of nice things, and some of those things he might even be willing to share. Definitely not all things though.
He only nodded in agreement though as he buckled his own seatbelt and then started the car and drove off. The radio did not automatically turn on, and he didn't move to turn it on. Lucifer had no interest in awkward silences, didn't understand how people really allowed them to happen.
"How old are you, Samandriel?"
“Seventeen,” he said, and never had a number felt more like a betrayal, but he wasn’t going to lie. “I’ll be eighteen in December, sir.” Christmas, actually, but Lucifer didn’t need to know that yet.
“Is that okay?” Not like he could change it, but he wanted to please anyway.
He'd guessed about right then, having assumed somewhere between sixteen and eighteen. Ignoring the 'sir' for now, Lucifer glanced over at Samandriel, and then back at the road.
"No, it probably isn't okay." He wasn't really one for lying, either. "But there it is, anyway." He wasn't turning the boy down, even though he was aware he should.
"Forty-two."
Samandriel’s breath caught in his chest. He wanted. Oh, how he wanted. It was a new feeling entirely, desire this intense. Desire that was for himself and not to simply not disappoint other people. “I meant is it okay with you,” he said as soft as he could manage with the top down and air whipping past them.
It was like Lucifer was a magnet for all the parts of Samandriel that he didn’t fully know where there. He was a wonder. Amazing and beautiful and probably dangerous. He wanted this more than he wanted Stanford, but then his parents wanted Stanford more than he did.
Whetting his lips, he had to make it a mental effort to watch road, to not just stare at Samandriel until maybe he couldn't stand to look at those red lips anymore.
"Are you asking if I approve of your age?" He turned off the freeway. "Or the things that I shouldn't want to do to someone your age?"
Samandriel thought about it for a very long moment. He wasn’t really asking either of those things and so he decided that clarification was all there was for it. “I’m asking if you’re going to let my age be a thing that gets in your way.” He looked over at Lucifer. He might’ve been inexperienced, but that didn’t mean he was dim. Tentatively, his hand left his own lap and found his driver’s thigh. “I don’t see how I’ll magically be able to cognitively develop enough to consent any more in a few months than I can now.”
The speed limit cut in half once they ended up on a residential street -- all the homes lining it large and extravagant looking without being too excessive. Slipping one hand away from the steering wheel, he picked up the boy's hand on his thigh and rubbed his thumb across Samandriel's palm.
"I don't see how that would be the case either. And if I thought it was a thing that would get in my way, I can assure you, Sam, you wouldn't be in my car right now."
Sam. Oh, he was Sam now. Most of the time he didn’t like it when people shortened his name, but it was okay when Lucifer did it. If he wanted to go by Sam, after all, his nametag would say that. Or, uh, would say that if he were wearing one which he wasn’t because that would be a bit silly wearing a nametag with a suit.
He let out a soft little mewling sound of approval when Lucifer touched him, only half hoping that the sound of the wind and the car would drown out his embarrassment. “Okay,” he said softly. He didn’t know what else to say that wasn’t somehow as obvious as the hard line in his trousers that seemed to only amplify his erection. This wasn’t fair. Samandriel wasn’t sure to whom it wasn’t fair yet, but it wasn’t fair.
That noise did awful things to him, and Lucifer's only relief was the fact that it seemed like it did much worse things to Samandriel. Actually. No. That wasn't much of a relief. But it was sort of delicious.
"I'm not just some creep," he told the boy, releasing his hand due to a need to turn into a driveway -- the long kind that didn't offer a garage until they'd driven past the home already. The door opened and pulled in and parked. He wanted to be made clear here. He wasn't looking for a one night stand with a young boy. He wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for, but at least that should be clear. "Do you understand?"
“I wouldn’t be here if I thought you were,” Samandriel said simply. “I uh...you’re not the first person who’s...um...made advances. You’re just the first I thought might be worth it.” That was mostly it, wasn’t it? There was something about Lucifer and Samandriel couldn’t put his finger on what that something was, but he knew that he wasn’t going to leave this path unfollowed. He hoped that maybe Lucifer understood with all the import in those words that he wasn’t just here for some fling either. If he wanted meaningless sex, he could have had that time and time again, but Samandriel didn’t do anything that he thought wasn’t worth his time.
This was worth his time.
The very idea of someone else making an advance on this boy was off-putting. That Samandriel was choosy was something he liked to hear though. Lucifer tilted his mouth into a nearly coy sort of smile and he nodded, removing his keys from the ignition and unbuckling his seatbelt.
"So long as we're on the same page. Would you like to come inside?" Of course, he knew Sam didn't want to just sit in the car the whole night. That was stupid. But he'd always had a way of offering things in question format -- it made his requests seem more like someone else's idea or choice to follow. Honestly, it did a world of good in business.
It couldn't have been too surprising that other people showed an interest in Samandriel. After all, Lucifer had. Still, Samandriel was kind of glad to see the slight shift in his companion with that knowledge of it. He wasn't yet worried about how much he was already aware of the shifts and changes in the other man
"Please, yes," he said quietly while he unbuckled and got out as gracefully as he could manage given everything going on in his pants. He was almost afraid that the house was going to be more luxurious than the car and he'd have an even harder time somehow not messing everything up.
Making no note of Samandriel's rather clear pants issue (Lucifer was a patient man), he led them into the house through a side door where they were greeted by a decently sized foyer. Once he'd taken care of the security alarm by the door, he turned back to the younger man and tilted his head to the side, as if amused.
"Come here." Just because he was patient didn't mean he didn't want to see just how soft those too red lips were.
It took quite a lot to not say yes, sir in response to that. Samandriel found that he didn't know what to say if he wasn't going to say that. So he just stepped closer and looked longingly up at Lucifer.
Taller by more than a couple of inches, Lucifer liked that Samandriel had to look up a bit. Liked that it was very easy to take hold of the boy's chin and gently tilt his head up with a guiding hand. He tilted his own head down until their noses brushed together and Samandriel's eyes were too blue to look at anymore.
"Would you like me to kiss you?" Their lips were already brushing together when he spoke, and he knew he didn't really have to wait for an answer at all, and so dipped his head lower to properly taste the cranberry juice on the boys' lips.
He did want Lucifer to kiss him, and he was about to be polite and say please when he was being kissed. Samandriel had been kissed before, of course. He wasn’t that chaste, he was just mostly not interested in the people who wanted to kiss him. This was different than all that. This made his chest flutter and made him feel like he didn’t quite know what to do with his hands and he was too overwhelmed by everything to think much less worry. So he kissed back, tentative and careful and eventually his hand found the cool, expensive fabric of Lucifer’s shirt at his side while he gave in to whatever this was. Samandriel liked it, that was definitely certain. He’d be open to collecting more data samples just to be sure, of course.
Rest assured, he would have plenty more chances to fully form an opinion. It wasn't the deepest of kisses, but that didn't mean it didn't lack intensity or some amount of exploration. Lucifer had been right in his assumption that Samandriel's lips would be soft -- he ran his tongue along them before pulling away just slightly and offering a pleased little look.
"That was very nice," he complimented, because he believed in giving recognition for efforts of all kinds.
“Thank you,” he said, and had to bite his tongue to keep from adding sir to it. Instead, Samandriel blushed and found himself ducking his head shyly, licking his own lips to try to capture the remaining taste of Lucifer’s on them. He caught his thumb moving absently against the other man’s side and forced himself to stop, to pull his hand away gently even though he didn’t particularly want to.
It scared him a bit to know that whatever Lucifer asked of him, Samandriel would probably say yes. “May I sit somewhere please?” he asked. He wanted to take his stiflingly hot coat off and loosen his tie, to focus on anything other than the pounding in his chest and between his legs.
"Of course." He brushed his thumb against Samandriel's jaw line before dropping his hand away completely and stepping back. "Just this way, then."
His house was large. Not mansion large, but two floored and expansive large. Swimming pool in the back and ocean front property kind of expensive.
The living room wasn't far off -- and it was the kind the bled into the kitchen just by everything being very open. "Couch," he pointed out needlessly to the seating. The kind of couch that was an L by the corner, black leather. "Something to drink?" Clearly he was taking his time. Rushing was for people less sophisticated.
“Please,” Samandriel said, taking off his coat and loosening his tie while he sat in the very middle of one of the couches against the wall. He hoped he was being okay here. He was, right? Lucifer wanted him like this, didn’t he? Samandriel was working really hard to be good and kind and everything people told him he was. Polite.
He didn’t know what he wanted to drink, but he’d be content with whatever Lucifer brought him even if he didn’t actually end up drinking it. The couch was comfortable and Samandriel felt fairly dwarfed by it, sinking in and worrying. It was a strange combination of things, worry and arousal.
He'd get used to that feeling, no doubt. At least he would if Lucifer had any say in the matter. The older man moved through his kitchen comfortably -- the room divided from the living room only by a wide island style counter, granite and marble. He ran a hand through his hair - ash blond and just short enough -- before grabbing two bottles of mineral water from the refrigerator.
Not able to help himself, he watched the boy on the couch for a moment longer than he needed to. He was just a slight little thing in a large room. He wanted to kiss him again, but decided to wait.
"Pellegrino," he clarified, handing one over to Samandriel before sitting down beside him on the couch.
Oh water. Water would probably be good, or really just better than all other options Samandriel could come up with. “Thank you,” he said softly, opening it and taking a sip. God, even the water tasted expensive.
“I’m...honestly not sure what you’d like me to do or um say right now.” At least he was honest, not that Samandriel was a very good liar at all, but it was what counted.
Lucifer seemed amused at that admission, mouth quirking to the side in an almost smile even as he twisted the metal cap off of his own water but then did not bother to drink.
"I wasn't looking for anything specific," he admitted, and meant it. The honesty was at least admired, though, the communication of even confusion appreciated. "It's a school night. Do you have a curfew?" And god, didn't he just feel a little dirty asking a question like that to a boy whose lips he'd just licked?
“No, sir,” Samandriel said and then winced a little, because he wasn’t supposed to say that and now Lucifer was going to chide him again for it. “My parents don’t think I’m likely to get into any kind of trouble.” Which was to say that he was boring and they trusted him, and they’d probably assume he was out studying or doing something far less dangerous and exciting than what he was actually doing.
Samandriel was fairly easy to read in terms of what he was thinking. Expressive. And although Lucifer was very aware of that little wince he'd just made, he felt the need to drive the idea home, anyway. "Lucifer." A slight, gentle reminder. "Say it every time if you need to, just to get used to it."
But then he nodded, understanding and amused at just how wrong Sam's parents really were. "Do you often stay out late?"
“Every so often,” Samandriel said softly. “Usually I just get distracted doing homework or reading somewhere and they’re not too worried.” At least he had yet to get a frantic phone call. His parents trusted him. Maybe they shouldn’t.
He shifted where he was sitting, letting their knees brush gently. “I won’t tell them. About this, I mean. Us. Not yet.” Whatever this or us or yet was. He knew it was dangerous for Lucifer, and nobody wanted anyone sent to court or stamped with an unshakable label just because someone didn’t realize that Samandriel was perfectly able to consent on his own, thank you very much.
"That would be wise," Lucifer agreed with a little nod that was barely even an acknowledgement. It was kind of funny to him how the thing that he should have been concerned about the most barely registered as a worry to him. Samandriel wasn't going to tell anyone and he was exceptionally good at discretion. December wasn't particularly far away, either.
It only concerned him a slight amount more that he was already aware he wanted this boy to be around six months in the future.
Nothing to do for it, he supposed, and then settled his hand on Samandriel's knee.
Samandriel had only just barely gotten his hormones under control when suddenly he was being touched again and everything flew right out the window. He could see the shifting folds in his trousers as much as he could feel them.
He looked up at Lucifer, already almost lost in those eyes. “I play viola,” he said abruptly, when he meant to say ‘will you kiss me again?’ He was nervous. He was allowed to just blurt things out, right? “And piano sometimes too. I like viola better.”
"Do you," Lucifer murmured, amused. He preferred piano, and that probably wasn't something he even needed to point out, considering. His thumb stroked almost casually at the inside of the boy's leg before he leaned in closer, nearly close enough to kiss but not quite. "I'm sure you're very talented. Is there anything else I should be aware of?" Because, clearly, knowing that Samandriel played viola was important. Maybe not to the moment, but on a whole.
Samandriel was back to that place where thinking was very, very difficult. He licked his lips and leaned in to meet Lucifer, not taking a kiss but he hoped indicating his receptivity to the idea of kissing. “I’ve never,” he whispered, nearly lost his own train of thought before he found it again, “just my own hand.” God, he hoped Lucifer could connect the dots because he was having a hard time doing it.
Those dots were easily connected, so easily in fact that they seemed to come with a set of instructions just in case anyone were to get confused. Lucifer had honestly assumed as much anyway. "That's not something you need to worry about." And before he could be questioned any, he closed that tiny gap between them and kissed Samandriel again, lips and tongue parting the younger boys' mouth open a little further.
Kissing Lucifer was a thing Samandriel found he liked very much. He opened to it all quiet curiosity and desire. There was almost a claim in that kiss, like Samandriel was owned already and that the boy had accepted it. It was something he needed to worry about, though, even if talking was not at all preferable to kissing. His hand rested on Lucifer’s chest and then slid up to his neck. He wanted. Oh did he want. He wanted to be as bare physically as he already felt. He wanted those hands all over his body, wanted to do anything and everything to please him, to make it clear that he was worth all this risk Lucifer was taking on him. But all he could do was kiss him back and shift a little on the couch to almost face him and hopefully invite more of this.
The water that Samandriel had just drank hadn't fully washed out the taste of cranberries -- Lucifer had to wonder for a moment if the boy didn't just naturally taste a bit tart and sweet at the same time. Somehow, it would not surprise him were that the case.
Turning his hand further into its resting place, Lucifer was keenly aware that he was now just holding on to Sam's thigh. Blindly he reached out to set his bottle of mineral water down, so that he might make better use of his other hand.
Samandriel moved to do the same thing, barely managing to get it properly on the coffee table. He wasn’t even worried about coasters right then. He was hard and desperate and needed...
He whined into the kiss instead, knowing that would get things across. Maybe Lucifer would give it to him.
Maybe. Maybe he would. As it was, Lucifer was having a hard time keeping himself from biting the younger mans' lower lip -- instead he grazed his teeth against it as he leaned back a little.
Samandriel had gone all flushed in the face, his lips somehow ridiculously more red than before. He wanted nothing more to bruise them into a darker shade with more kisses.
"I know," he said in reply to the whine, because he did. He really did. And if he hadn't, his cock probably would have not-so-politely reminded him. But he was a patient man. "But not yet."
“Why,” Samandriel heard himself ask before he could stop himself and move to just accepting it. Not yet would be okay. Asking why and pouting was for people who weren’t him. People who didn’t respect others. He looked down, ashamed of himself for stepping so close to a demand. It wasn’t his place to tell someone else what their pace was after all.
“Okay,” he said, taking a breath, but he couldn’t let go of Lucifer just yet.
Lucifer wasn't saving anyone's honor or innocence here (he wasn't really the type, especially not since it wasn't as if he didn't have plans for taking at least one of those things from Sam in the future). He just knew that a lot of things were made better by waiting. And Samandriel's reaction said a lot of the boy -- a distracting amount really, and Lucifer had to swallow in order to clear his throat.
"Good," he said, stroking Samandriel's cheek with the side of his thumb. "There's no rush, that's why." He didn't mind being questioned -- everyone should be allowed to voice confusion and concern.
Samandriel leaned into that touch, really liking that unexpected bit of tenderness. He blushed brightly and confessed in his own, quiet way, “I feel like I’m going to make a mess of my pants.” And the mess didn’t so much bother him. He’d been cleaning up after himself in those kinds of ways since he first hit puberty, but he was still embarrassed to say it. Lucifer had to know, though, right? You didn’t take a seventeen year old to bed and expect him to have the control and stamina of someone with experience.
Arousingly adorable. Was that even a thing? It must have been, since that's all Lucifer could think of, currently.
He wasn't the sort to blush, but he did do bemused pretty damn well. "Maybe you should take care of that, then," he suggested after a beat, because really sometimes there was just no getting past wanting to see a beautiful person touch themselves. Particularly when said beautiful person was thinking of him and nothing else.
It would do wonders for his ego. Not that Lucifer technically needed an ego boost.
It was like Samandriel’s body didn’t quite know what to do with that suggestion. He didn’t think it was possible for him to blush more, but there he was feeling it creep down his neck. He licked his lips, unable to meet Lucifer’s eyes as he asked for clarification. “Like...here or in the bathroom or...” He was under the impression that Lucifer wanted to watch him, and his cock was in enthusiastic agreement with that thought, but Samandriel wasn’t going to do anything like that without permission.
"Right here. Right now." He stroked his finger against the boy's jawline again and gave only the slightest of nods. "Save your clothing the mess -- leather cleans easily." A pause. "If you'd like to, that is." Posing it as a suggestion hardly made it one, not really.
Right, that meant he should get naked. Samandriel swallowed and nodded nervously. Ever so carefully, he pulled away and began. First his tie came off, neatly draped onto the coffee table, and while he was there he found a coaster for his water just to make himself feel better. And then he worked oh so carefully the tiny buttons of his shirt. Once that was off and with his tie on the table, he stood to toe out of his shoes (and socks because who kept those on when you were already getting naked?).
Samandriel undid the buckle of his belt, but didn’t take it off. The zip of his fly came down and as he stepped out of his slacks, he took his briefs with them. Naked and so hard it hurt, Samandriel turned back to the couch and arranged himself facing Lucifer with one arm of the furniture supporting his back. “Like this, s- Lucifer?” He was trying. Oh god was he trying.
"Just like that," Lucifer agreed, pleased that his name had been used almost properly this time. At the very least, Samandriel was a quick learner.
Though that wasn't really the foremost thing on his mind, if he had to be honest (and he always was, when possible). It took a lot of effort to relax into the couch and play casual and cool. He crossed his legs and folded his hands together on his lap. "You're lovely," he pointed it out like it was just fact, not opinion. "Would you like to continue?"
Samandriel felt somehow even smaller against the dark leather of the couch. That he was uncomfortable being on display like this seemed to come secondary to whatever made Lucifer happy. He licked his lips and hid behind his blush and long lashes as he looked down and began hesitantly touching himself for the other man. They were slow, nervous strokes as though he didn’t quite know what Lucifer wanted, but he wanted it to be good, to last for him.
"Relax." Even Lucifer knew how laughable an instruction like that was, but perhaps it might help Samandriel to know he wasn't looking for anything world shaking, here. "Just enjoy yourself. Do it however you normally would." Samandriel, even flushed like he was (even his shoulders were a bit red), looked perfect and pale still against the black of the couch.
In working himself over, Samandriel realized that what he was feeling was shame. Moreover, he was getting off on feeling it, on touching and being watched and knowing he was a little too far on the skinny end of lithe and that his hand probably moved a bit unsteadily. He meant to lift his head only to tip it back and try to actually relax. Instead, he made it only to the point where he caught Lucifer’s eyes and could focus on nothing else.
He managed a squeak as he teased himself, his hand moving faster. Samandriel’d trained himself to be quiet while he did this, didn’t think he could make a sound even if Lucifer ordered him to. He wanted to. Some part of him wanted desperately to beg with more than slightly parted lips and unwavering eye contact. This was what was going to stick in his mind, have him completely ragged in the shower or in bed or...or wherever.
The squeak was too cute, and again, Lucifer was unsure of how to even categorize this boy. Adorable wasn't the right word for anything in this context. And yet?
He licked his lips, met Sam's gaze and kept it for a long moment. "That's perfect, Samandriel. Are you enjoying yourself?" It was so apparent how well behaved he was, how careful.
Samandriel couldn’t stop himself from saying the word he knew he wasn’t supposed to. “Yes, sir,” just fell off his lips, less meaning to them and more vocalization of his need to please Lucifer. “Lucifer,” he corrected almost immediately, catching himself. The name, however, came out as a desperate moan, his muscles quivering. “Close...May I please?”
Fuck. That Samandriel asked for permission was like being given a birthday and christmas present all at once. He hadn't been wrong to flirt with him at that Jamba Juice at all. Sometimes, Lucifer just felt the need to pat himself on the back and call it a day. Clearly, he couldn't get better at this.
He waited with his answer for a moment longer than he needed to, because -- well. He could. "Yes," he murmured, sliding his palm down his own knee, as if removing wrinkles there before refolding his hands. "You may."
That was all Samandriel needed, though honestly he didn’t know how he’d managed to hold back until he’d gotten permission. His eyes squeezed shut as he came, a whimper of a moan choking out of his throat while he tried to angle himself so that as much as possible ended up on his own skin and not the couch.
"Very good." Lucifer leaned over (and it was a task, admittedly), cupping a hand behind the boy's neck and pulled him forward for a kiss. It was something of a reward, anyway.
Samandriel kissed him back, clean hand pushing at the arm of the couch to arch his body forward in a way that wouldn’t get any mess on Lucifer’s suit. “Thank you,” he said when the kiss broke. Whatever was building between them, Samandriel definitely wanted more of it.
Lucifer only smiled at that, tilting his head to the side in amusement. "You deserved it." Good boys get things they deserve, that tone implied. He took another kiss before leaning back and feeling oddly smug. "There are towels in the kitchen, if you'd like to clean yourself up."
Lucifer? Needed a minute, okay?
Samandriel nodded and very carefully got up to go tend to himself in the kitchen. He worked carefully with damp paper towels to get himself clean. His suit wasn’t a thing he was too worried about, but if Lucifer didn’t want him to put clothes on again right away, he kind of wanted to be able to lounge about not feeling come drying on him awkwardly.
It took him a good minute or two to feel like he was properly clean and he came back into the living room looking questioningly at...whatever Lucifer was to him.
Whatever, indeed. There wasn't a word for it, yet. They'd get there. By the time that Samandriel got back, Lucifer had more or less composed himself back into a proper state and he was lounging on the couch almost lazily.
"Better?"
“Yes, thank you,” Samandriel said quietly, watching Lucifer. He looked down at his clothes and then back up at the other man. “Would you like me to get dressed now?” Then again, perhaps being naked would get Lucifer to touch him more. He decided he was okay either way.
"If you want." Giving Sam options was a learning experience for the both of them -- he didn't know the boy well enough yet to know what his preferences might be, and that was something he wanted to be aware of and not only just so that he could disregard them at a later date.
Samandriel thought about it for a moment and then decided against it. He sat down, naked and feeling more exposed than he’d ever been, as close to Lucifer as he dared. He worried it wouldn’t be long before he was hard again. It was a fair worry to have.
One of the perks of being youthful, really. Lucifer remembered those days almost wistfully. Almost.
"Good choice. Come here," he murmured, sitting back further and then offering the naked boy a spot under his arm and against his side.
Samandriel tucked himself under Lucifer’s arm, cuddling against him like he was made to do fit perfectly just there. He closed his eyes and let out a comfortable breath. “You smell good.” He smelled intoxicating, but Samandriel wasn’t in the mood to drop some SAT words at the moment.
Lucifer let out an amused little snuff of a noise, wrapping his arm more carefully around Samandriel's thin shoulders and then settling his chin on top of the boy's head. He really did fit well against his side, and gave off a pleasant warmth, despite the fact that he was naked and the central air was on. It was sort of impressive.
"Tell me about yourself?"
Samandriel thought for a moment about what to say. His life wasn’t all that exciting. “I’m starting my senior year. I play in the orchestra at school and sometimes other recitals too. I uh...got a near perfect score on my SATs. I’m supposed to want to go to Stanford, but I’m not sure I really do. I work at Jamba Juice and volunteer at the animal shelter. I...I’m not very exciting. I’m sorry.”
Committing all the information to memory, Lucifer absently trailed well manicured nails down Samandriel's arm. "None of that is boring," he assured. "Although I'm pretty sure I knew about the Jamba Juice part." He didn't even like smoothies as much as he'd pretended to in the last few weeks. It was a little sad, actually.
"Why don't you want to go to Stanford?"
“I don’t...I’d like some time off to rest before college.” He shivered and nestled closer. “So it’s not so much that I don’t want to go to Stanford, but more that I’d just like a break to figure out who I am beyond grades and things that look good on my transcript.”
"You should do that, then." Lucifer wasn't exactly an expert, but he was pretty damn sure that colleges would be willing to wait on a boy who had a nearly perfect SAT score. He offered an amused sort of sniff. "They say that college is often a place to find out who you really are. Do you not subscribe to that belief?"
Was it weird that he was enjoying a normal conversation with this boy?
Samandriel laughed softly. “Tell that to my parents,” he whispered. He pressed a kissed to Lucifer’s chest. “I mean...why should I go to college already when I haven’t the faintest idea of what I want to do?”
"Perhaps I will," Lucifer challenged. No time soon, of course. But they had a year before it was an issue.
Oh, christ, his plans had advanced another six months. This boy was bad news.
Samandriel got a hair ruffle in retaliation to Lucifer's own thought process, and then gave a one shouldered shrug. "If you're unsure, it's probably best to wait. What do you do at the animal shelter?"
“I clean cages,” Samandriel said, shrugging. “Sometimes I get to help socialize the kittens, but not often. I’m fine cleaning up. Someone has to do it, right?” He looked up at Lucifer, only wanting to kiss him. Was that bad? He hoped not.
It wasn't bad. Lots of relationships were built on attraction. It wasn't as if Lucifer had seen the boy in his juice shop and thought he'd make a really great debate partner.
"Mm," he agreed, pressing a kiss to the side of Samandriel's mouth. "No boyfriend, then? Girlfriend?"
Maybe he shouldn’t have, but Samandriel tipped his head to catch Lucifer’s mouth again. “I wouldn’t be here if there were,” he said.
Lucifer clearly didn't mind since he took another kiss after -- this one less chaste, a little more interested. "Good," he said, with a possessive note in his tone.
“Just whatever you are,” Samandriel moaned quietly. He didn’t know when he’d moved to straddle Lucifer, but there he was, kissing him. Being naked seemed to do wonders for releasing his inhibitions.
It really did. When had Samandriel made it into his lap? Had he pulled the boy there, or had he just wriggled up on his own? No matter, really.
He settled steady hands on the boy's hips, guiding him to sit down a bit more. "Whatever I am," he repeated, with some mirth. "What do you expect this to be, Samandriel?"
Samandriel sat properly on Lucifer’s lap and wanted nothing more than to stay there, wiggling and whining and maybe goading him into more, but he wasn’t nearly uninhibited enough for that. Mostly, he just stayed pressed close to him gradually getting hard again.
“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “Other than not a one time thing, I have no idea. I was hoping maybe you’d tell me.”
Running a hand through Samandriel's hair, Lucifer had to consider that for a long moment. He hadn't really been expecting anything to come of his flirtations with the boy -- he'd been pretty in his silly orange work uniform, and he hadn't been able to help himself from dropping by more often, and giving him his business card.
He hadn't really expected Sam to come though. To his bar, or on his couch.
"The term boyfriend has always seemed so juvenile," he said at last, and it wasn't much of an answer.
Samandriel closed his eyes, sighing softly as he tipped his head with that touch. He tried not to move too much. Moving was definitely going to be a bad idea.
“Then what do you want me to call you, Lucifer?”
"My name is enough, isn't it?" Although his tone had gone teasing, he mostly meant it. For now. He was, after all, good at waiting.
Arching his back forward, he kissed Samandriel again. "We'll save labels for another day. Now put your clothes back on, I'll drive you home."
“Yes, Lucifer,” he whispered, quietly disappointed as he got up and dressed as carefully as he undressed. Maybe more now that he was half hard again and trying not to make it worse.
"Don't pout, Samandriel. This isn't a one time thing." He stood, smoothed out his clothing, and watched with vague amusement as the blond boy put his clothing back on in a way that might be described as begrudging. Still cute, though.
“Yes, sir,” he said, but this time Samandriel knew what he was saying and used it on purpose. He felt bad about it almost immediately afterward. He buttoned his cuffs and tied his tie, looking up at the ceiling while he did.
“I like how you say my name,” he said softly, looking over at Lucifer while he straightened the knot of his tie.
"I think you like how you don't say my name even more," Lucifer pointed out, a little heavy on wry. But spirit was encouraged and he liked that the kid wasn't a wet blanket about things, so he said nothing more on the topic currently and instead stepped over to take charge of straightening Samandriel's tie for him.
Samandriel tipped his head up to let Lucifer tend to him. “It suits you,” he said simply. He caught Lucifer’s hands in his and rose up just a bit on his toes to kiss him, whispering the other man’s name against his lips while he did.
This kid was trouble just waiting. Lucifer should have, but couldn't seem to find any issue with that whatsoever. He took the offered kiss, Samandriel's chin between his fingers and then took one more just for the sake of even numbers and his want.
"It might someday," he agreed in a low tone. "Not yet, though. Lucifer. Until I tell you otherwise."
Samandriel nodded, “Okay,” he said softly. He stepped away to grab his coat, trying very, very hard to keep his hormones under control. It was going to be a long night. He didn’t even want to take a shower, wanted the ghosts of Lucifer’s touches and echo of his smell on his skin to take him to sleep.
"Very good." He pressed his lips to the boy's forehead and then led him to the door in the same way he'd originally lead him to his car -- fingers settled on the small of his back until he had to turn his attention to the alarm and the lock on the door.
And Samandriel got politely back into the car, buckled up. He looked shyly at the pull of fabric over his knees. He wasn’t sure what to say that wasn’t going to sound desperate or awkward so he just sat there quietly thinking about how whenever the next time was it wasn’t soon enough.
After procuring an address, they drove in silence for a while -- as silent as a drive in a car without a top could be, anyway. He wouldn't have considered it awkward, because he didn't feel uncomfortable -- even if maybe Samandriel did.
Once they got closer to Samandriel's side of town, he drove a little slower, a little more carefully. "Wednesdays and Thursdays off?" He asked, even though he knew that was exactly what he'd been told earlier.
“Yes, Lucifer,” Samandriel said, looking up at him, wanting a kiss before he got out but not wanting to risk it. “Saturday and Sunday I’m done at three, but I have practice until seven. Saturday is full orchestra and Sunday’s just me so...” If Lucifer wanted to watch him practice, it was okay with Samandriel.
Neither could really afford a risk like that, and so Lucifer didn't even think to offer it. He knew Samandriel was just as well aware of the need for careful discretion, especially as he pulled up in front of the boy's house. "You'll have to tell me where that is, perhaps I can find time to watch."
Samandriel took his phone out of his pocket and texted the number he’d entered into his phone almost as soon as he’d gotten the card from Lucifer. “So you can find me,” he said, quietly fond. “And I will.” With a soft, longing look, he got out of the car and headed towards his modest, but nice, home.