Dumat: The Dragon of Silence (nearestvessel) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-08-21 21:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !trigger warning, lucifer morningstar, samandriel |
Who: Samandriel and Lucifer
What: Lucifer has a job offer for Samandriel, and a few words about his boy's angelic staring problem. Things turn predictably NSFW and every time a bell rings, an angel gets his metaphysical wings.
When: Weds - 21 August
Where: Lucifer’s
Rating: High. TW - consensual spanking, age difference, etc
Status: Complete
It was Wednesday, which meant, of course, that Samandriel wasn’t working. Well, no, it meant he wasn’t working at the Jamba Juice. He was working, of course. He’d gotten himself a recording of the accompaniment he needed for his solo (a bit that seemed rather odd, but was probably just his conductor showing him off,) and stood in Lucifer’s sitting room posture perfectly straight while he played, not the same song over and over again, of course, because that would be boring. The tape would end and Samandriel would wander off into something of a similar vein.
He ignored that he was sweating and focused only on the pulse of music through his veins, filling up his lungs like air, taking up all the space around him. There was nothing more than his instrument and the sounds Samandriel guided it to make. The viola was highly, highly underrated.
Lucifer had been content to sit and listen; he had expected Samandriel to be good, of course, but found himself surprised anyway. He was on the couch across the room, and had originally sat down with the intention of doing a bit of work while Samandriel practiced, but had soon found that work wasn't getting done tonight.
The angel was literally enchanting when he played. Like there was nothing else in the world except this one thing, and he dare not break his concentration, because he was supplying music for the entire world with those strings and bow.
It occurred to Lucifer, and not for the first time, that Samandriel was rather underrated. People would pay to see this boy, and not just in a youth orchestra. He tilted his head to the side thoughtfully and then stood. "You should take a break, Samandriel."
The words gradually filtered to Samandriel’s ears, starting as tones that weren’t from his instrument and then gaining recognition as Lucifer’s voice. He found a natural stopping point and lifted his gaze to look at his boyfriend.
Samandriel smiled, still in that dreamy music making haze that was rather like sex for most people. It exhilarated him all over. “Hm?”
"A break." Lucifer repeated, feeling rather endeared at the expression Samandriel had on. It was rare to find someone so involved like this - and Lucifer liked to think he knew, considering his own interest in music.
"Come have some tea," he murmured, ruffling Samandriel's hair before wandering off in the direction of the kitchen.
Samandriel blinked a few times to pull himself out of it and set his instrument down in its case on the coffee table. “Yes, Lucifer,” he said, feeling a bit like he was floating while he trailed after him.
Once they were in the kitchen, and Lucifer had set a tea kettle to boil on the stovetop (what? He liked tea.), he leaned against the countertop and just watched that almost goofy expression on Samandriel's face for a moment.
"You must know you're very good."
Samandriel sat on one of the bar stools in the kitchen, leaning comfortably against the island while he watched Lucifer work.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” he said, blushing and ducking his head.
"Only because no one likes a braggart. But you are good." He turned to pull down a set of mugs from a cabinet, glancing over his shoulder at the boy. "You're wasting a lot of talent at that juice place, you know. Wouldn't you rather be paid for making music?"
“They work with my schedule,” Samandriel pointed out gently. “I would rather be doing something I love, yes, but I can’t fathom anywhere that would.” He didn’t hate the juice bar, it just wasn’t worth it. Now that Lucifer was someone important to him and not just a customer he was allowed to be honest about those feelings. Not loathing, just ambivalence. He liked people watching. He didn’t like cleaning the machines (though he certainly didn’t mind it too much.) It balanced out to acceptable.
Lucifer gave a little sniff, as though he were slightly bored by Samandriel's vague argument before fiddling through a little box of tea, searching for just the right flavors. "I'd work with your schedule. A viola accompaniment to the piano would go very nicely at Lux. It would pay better, and you'd ultimately have to work less."
“Thank you, Lucifer,” Samandriel said, though there was a clear pause there while he considered everything. “I don’t think I can afford the dress code, though. Or the dry cleaning bill. Playing is harder work than it looks.”
"You'd certainly be able to upon getting paid," Lucifer noted, looking pleased with himself when he found the tea he wanted and pulled out two packets. He spared Samandriel a glance, arching a brow. "But do you think that's something I wouldn't take care of? You could do with some nicer attire, anyhow."
Samandriel looked down at his hands on the island countertop. “I’d have to talk to my parents,” he said softly, lifting his gaze to look at Lucifer again. “I’d jump at the opportunity, but...I’m not really free to make decisions like that on my own yet.” He could spin it so they’d allow it, but it’d be a big step.
“Mom...she barely tolerates the whole music thing. She doesn’t actively hate it or anything, she just thinks it’s a waste of time and that it’s not going to get me anywhere in life.” Not that life was really much of an issue for Samandriel, all things considered now. Not with Noah or Lot’s wife sitting there in the back of his mind, the progression of eons. Samandriel wondered if the birth of Christ would come soon or if perhaps someone would yell at him in his dreams for spending so much time laughing and running around with the Greeks.
"You have a gift," Lucifer said, pouring water and letting the tea bags steep even as he set a mug in front of Samandriel. "I'm surprised your mother would be of that opinion at all. Perhaps I might just speak to her myself." Samandriel did, after all, have a concert coming up. It would not be difficult to attend and then turn the situation into something beneficial for them all.
"But I won't pressure you." If Samandriel preferred making smoothies for the impatient youth of the county, Lucifer would just silently be chagrinned over here about it.
“I’d like to,” Samandriel said, looking earnestly up at Lucifer. “I just...she scares me a little. She’s not the most motherly of women.”
"You'll find I'm very persuasive when I want to be," Lucifer said, taking that as a yes -- because it was, wasn't it? And parents were hardly an issue when it came to things like business. It was sort of a nice intro to them in general, as weird as that thought was.
"No need to be concerned."
“Okay,” he said softly, looking down. He didn’t have the heart to tell Lucifer that his mother wouldn’t be going to his concert, and it was only a small maybe that his father would remember to. “Thank you, Lucifer.”
Later, that information would both surprise and annoy Lucifer. Enough where he'd probably seek out audience with the two in their own home.
Later.
For now, he just blew on his tea and gave a vague nod before looking over at Samandriel. "Now. Let's talk about Castiel."
That was enough of an abrupt subject change that Samandriel very nearly felt like he had whiplash. Hands circling his mug, Samandriel suddenly was worried that maybe he shouldn’t be drinking anything.
“What about him?”
"His husband came into my bar the other night," Lucifer said, eyes on Samandriel. His expression wasn't anything but a pleasant near blank. "He seems to think you have an attraction that needs curbing."
Samandriel turned bright red and looked down at his tea. “It’s not that,” he said softly. “Castiel is married and I’m still getting used to looking at other angels.”
That was reassuring, and Lucifer had kind of assumed this to be the reason. He had not faulted Dean Winchester for being possessive, but had had his own doubts on the matter.
"Well, Dean seems to think you wanted to do more than just stare. He's a possessive man, it would do you well to learn your place when it comes to your brother as he's more than claimed by marriage." A pause. "And I don't think I need to remind you to whom you belong?" Totally not rhetorical.
“No, sir,” Samandriel said, looking up at Lucifer. He probably would explore a few things with Castiel if he were permitted, but as he wasn’t that hardly mattered. It was a non-issue and Samandriel belonged wholly to Lucifer. “I’m yours.”
"You are good, little angel," Lucifer said, satisfied for the moment. He thought it best not to bring up the Winchester's suggestion about later things. It wouldn't really do to confuse Samandriel over things, after all.
"The next time you go over there, you'll apologize to Dean. I don't like for people to walk into my bar with complaints about your behavior, even if they are exaggerated."
“Yes, sir,” Samandriel said, eyes cast down again. He didn’t like for anyone to have complaints about his behavior. He was Good. “It’s hard to look at him. Mr. Winchester, I mean.”
Knowing he wouldn't truly understand any explanation about why (for it certainly had something to do with Samandriel's angelic abilities, something he lacked completely), Lucifer just sipped his tea and offered a half a shrug. "Then that's a good a reason as any to practice, isn't it?"
“Perhaps so, but that doesn’t make what he is any less wrong,” Samandriel countered, finally taking a sip of his slowly cooling tea.
Said the boy talking to an eventual incarnation of Satan.
Lucifer rose an eyebrow. "How's that?"
“He’s a vessel,” Samandriel said looking up at Lucifer and knowing that the other angel wouldn’t understand, not yet and maybe not ever. That was okay. He could deal so long as Lucifer still trusted him. “Meant for Michael, but all stitched up and claimed by Castiel. He’s got all these lines of Grace running through him where it looks like Castiel decided to cut away the parts he couldn’t fix and use his own being to fill in the gaps. Kind of like how they make dinosaurs with frog DNA in Jurassic Park.”
Dean wasn’t any less human, but the analogy was the closest he could get to. “And there’s this...this mark like Castiel reached in and touched him and simply said ‘mine.’ It feels...wrong to be able to see it, not only a direct contradiction of what should be, but something so...intimate. It’s much easier to look at Castiel.” The conflicting feelings that arose in Samandriel when he looked at Dean weren’t something he was prepared to deal with.
It was a strange analogy, but Lucifer found it suited as far as his own understanding of the explanation went. He wasn't sure what a vessel was for, not exactly, but he could make a good guess. There was something oddly romantic about the description, but Lucifer could see that wasn't really how Samandriel felt about it.
"Perhaps the sight will become easier to control or tone down?" How the hell would he know?
“Maybe,” Samandriel said softly. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just get used to it.” He sighed and sipped at his tea some more.
Well, he was going to have to get used to it, if he didn't want to deal with the massive amount of glaring that Lucifer expected Dean could do. And so that Lucifer himself didn't have to deal with any more issues with the other man.
He leaned further on the counter, hip against the cabinets there. "Do you need to practice more?"
“The viola? No, I think I’m okay,” Samandriel said letting his mind wander back to that place and smiling to himself.
Letting Samandriel have his dreamy moment, Lucifer just enjoyed the pleased little expression on his boyfriend's face before shaking his head and standing up a little straighter. "Then perhaps we could practice something else entirely."
“Of course, yes, Lucifer,” Samandriel said, body seeming to catch up faster than his brain did on what Lucifer was implying. He might not have the stamina to go all night yet, but Samandriel was certain his recovery time would make up for it.
Nodding, Lucifer finished off his tea and set his mug in the kitchen sink before turning back to the younger man. "Bedroom?"
Samandriel nodded quickly, got off the stool and followed Lucifer to the bedroom. When they got there, the little angel settled on his knees, posture still impeccable as he looked up at Lucifer, hands on his thighs, waiting, wanting.
And to think that Dean Winchester had made any such comment about how Samandriel's leash wasn't tight enough. These weren't even things that Lucifer asked for, and Samandriel did them anyway, without question.
"You're lovely," he told the angel, and rather hoped that he would be believed when he said so. He moved close enough to pet Samandriel's hair with the flat palm of his hand.
Samandriel closed his eyes to accept that touch fully. “Thank you, Lucifer,” he murmured. When he opened his eyes again, there was nothing in the world he wanted to see more than his lover, and one soft request lingering on his lips. “Can we try some pain tonight, please?” He was curious. Between his almost-sister’s babbling and what he’d found on the internet, how could he not be?
Arching a brow, Lucifer cupped the boys' chin in one hand and tilted his head a little farther up, gazing at him thoughtfully. "Pain," he repeated, and found the word fit well on his tongue. He certainly wasn't against the idea, although he generally knew he ought not be leaving any marks on the boy that would be easily spotted.
"Did you have something in mind?" He might not have needed to ask, but there was something intriguing about asking the angel of imagination just what exactly he had dreamt up.
Samandriel licked his lips, watching Lucifer as though he might actually get what he was asking for, like that single word on the other angel’s lips was sex all on its own. “My back and my chest are a blank canvas,” he said, breathing gone shallow and heavy. “I think you could do quite a lot with that much to work with.” And red would look good on his skin, or the dark purple of bruises and...wow, he was into the idea of this way more than he thought.
Lucifer had to close his eyes and take a breath to calm himself. No penis, it is not yet time to come out and play, no matter how much Samandriel's earnest expression makes you want to.
He licked his lips and then offered a smile. "You're probably right," he agreed. "Undress yourself."
“Yes, Lucifer.” Samandriel rose and undressed himself, folding his clothes carefully and putting them on the chair he’d designated for that purpose. It made things easier, having a place for them to go.
When he was finished, he knelt in the spot he’d been in before and looked up at Lucifer again.
It was unsurprising to Lucifer that Samandriel was a neat sort of young man -- he was just the type to pile his things together in a neatly folded pile. Nearly cute, really.
He moved to kneel behind the younger man, lips pressing carefully to the curve of Samandriel's neck and hands brushing over his sides. The little angel was thin, in the way that most teenagers tended to be -- bones and ribs obvious beneath the skin.
Samandriel bowed his head, but did not otherwise move aside from the fluttering of muscles under Lucifer’s fingertips, his palms resolutely flat on his thighs. He let his silence speak for him, let that be his willingness and submission for now.
It was easy to start with light nibbling, teeth grazing downward against the boys' neck, and then the dip of his shoulder blades, intermittent kisses given freely between that. Lucifer's hands were firm on Samandriel's waist, holding him in place although it was clear there was no real need to do so.
No need to do so, perhaps, but Samandriel liked the pressure there anyway. His cock was hard and dark against his thigh, and it was so very, very difficult to ignore it. He managed, it just wasn’t easy. Lucifer pulled quite little keening sounds out of him, a chorus of soft, appreciative moans. This boy was his in all ways, no matter how much the anticipation was driving him to distraction.
Nibbles turned into bites - harsh clips of teeth against the sensitive expanse of skin near Samandriel's side and just under his ribs. In retrospect, he was not sure why they'd picked the floor as a working space because it was stupid to be bent over like this, a strange balance on one knee and head tilted down low.
He sat back, feeling almost silly (hey, even he made mistakes) and snorted out a laugh. "Get on the bed, little angel. There's pain, and then there's just useless discomfort."
Samandriel got up immediately and looked back at Lucifer. “On my knees again or would you like me on my stomach?” he asked, and Samandriel was briefly unsteady while he dealt with the mental image of Lucifer binding him to something. He started on his knees on the bed, not wanting to leave the order unfollowed even while he asked for clarification.
"Stomach." Funny, they were on the same wavelength there, Lucifer's eyes contemplating the headboard once he was sure that Samandriel was following his instruction and laying down properly. He made a mental note to do some supply shopping some time soon, but for now ties would be a suitable substitute.
"Make yourself comfortable," he told the boy, moving to rummage through his closet.
Samandriel stretched out on his stomach, moving one of the pillows aside so that his neck wasn’t craned at an awkward angle and he could keep his body flat and his head turned to one side.
“Thank you, Lucifer,” he said, adjusting his hands so they were near his head and he could give the other man the maximum amount of back and sides.
"For what, little angel?" Sometimes he just liked hearing Samandriel talk, the boy sounded dreamy and pleased even when he was a bit distracted. It was endearing. He settled himself on the bed, giving his ass a smack that was louder than it was hard and then moved to straddle the boy, and position his hands a little nearer the headboard.
“Keeping me,” Samandriel answered. The smack came, and he yelped loudly in surprise. That. That he liked. Oh, how he liked that. His arms moved wherever Lucifer wanted them, and he had to bite his lower lip to keep from begging too much already.
"Why wouldn't I keep you?" Lucifer had gone ridiculously cheerful, possibly because of the noise that Samandriel had just made, and was now working happily at tying his boyfriend's wrists together and then to the headboard.
“It’s your whim, Lucifer,” Samandriel said, looking up at him as best he could. He was really worried he might come soon. He could be good, right? “You might change your mind. I hope you don’t ever, but it’s still your choice.”
He'd better be good. Lucifer let out a little half sigh even as he checked his knots -- not too tight, but sturdy. "Is this something you're going to worry on often? You really shouldn't." He punctuated his words with another swat on Samandriel's back side.
Another yelp, and the force of the blow had his hips pitching forward and oh...oh no that wasn’t going to end well. “Lucifer!” he said, breathing heavily and clearly concerned. He strained his neck to look over his shoulder. “Please do you have a cock ring or something?” Anything. Please.
"No," because he actually didn't (although now that it was actually asked for, he really needed to do some shopping). "If it's that much of an issue, you're going to have to get up on your knees some, aren't you?" It wouldn't be the most comfortable position, but it was certainly possible.
Samandriel closed his eyes tightly and nodded. “Yes, Lucifer.” He stayed where he was for a moment, trying to work out the math and physics of managing that and still balancing properly. He could do it. Slowly, he tucked his knees under him and then pushed forward, glad that his hands were already at the bottom of the headboard so that he could rest his weight on his forearms instead.
There, that took care of the friction issue nicely.
The willpower it must have taken to manage that was impressive, the older man thought. When he was that age, he probably would have been the little shit who decided he'd rather just rub one out on the comforter. "Good boy," Lucifer said, petting soothing fingers over the small of his back. "Very good. Is that better?"
“A bit, yes, Lucifer,” Samandriel said, but his voice was already wrecked and it was clear that this was going to keep being infuriatingly distracting for a while when he wanted to be able to give Lucifer all of his attention. He bowed his head and focused on doing calculus mentally. He hated math.
He looked like he was doing math, if the slight slouch of his shoulders was any sort of sign for arithmetic. Lucifer snuffed out a fond noise and then returned his attentions to what Samandriel had asked for in the first place. His nails were short, but not short enough not to trail sharply down the curve of the boy's spine.
Samandriel found himself gasping, completely losing all parts of his equation as he arched with that touch. There was a little whine in there too, definitely a sound of pleasure. He hadn’t realized how much he actually wanted this until it was being given to him. He’d been right in the beginning, Lucifer was thoroughly ruining him for anyone else.
Something Lucifer was taking great pride in, actually. Every noise that Samandriel made cemented it a little further. This was right and Samandriel was good. He leaned closer, biting sharply at the boy's hip before caressing his ass. "Did you like it, Samandriel? When I spanked you?"
Samandriel whimpered, shifting his weight as if to balance himself better on his knees and maybe somehow give Lucifer more territory to work with. “A lot, yes, Lucifer.”
"Good," he said, pressing his nose into Sam's hip and smiling to himself. "Because I'm going to do it again. And this time, you're going to count for me."
“Yes, Lucifer,” Samandriel said, bracing himself for not only the blows, but hopefully the mental fortitude to keep track of numbers.
It was almost like math, though. Except easier. Something to focus on. "Good," Lucifer repeated, and continued his slow stroke over the little angel's rear for longer than he really needed to. The anticipation, he knew, was the strongest part of this. Finally, he moved his hand back, and let it hover for a few seconds before he brought it down with a heavier force and a loud noise.
“One!” Samandriel said immediately, glad for the change in position because his cock bobbing between his legs was a lot less infuriating than having it rubbing against something.
Well, that had been the point. Lucifer hummed his approval, before going in again. This time he curved his hand into it -- the sound was lessened, but probably the same thing could not be said about the sting of it.
“Two!” Samandriel shouted, tingling more than just where Lucifer had struck him. “How many are you going to do?”
"At least one more than I'd originally intended, with a question like that," Lucifer cut in, tone sharp, but hand gently rubbing against Samandriel's now pink ass cheeks.
"You asked for pain, angel."
“I was just curious, sir,” Samandriel responded. He asked for pain. He wanted the pain. He just also really happened to like planning and odd numbers.
"Pick a number." Lucifer didn't really sound like he was doing the angel and favors, though.
“Eleven,” Samandriel said. He liked the number, it had nice symmetry. He doubted he was going to get only eleven, but he’d thrown his vote in and that was good enough for him.
Well. It might be eleven. Plus the two that he'd already had. And Lucifer rather liked the connotations of thirteen, so that seemed fair, in that way where fair didn't really matter anyway.
"Hm," Lucifer said in vague agreement before offering another swat -- playful and light.
“Three,” Samandriel said, looking up over his shoulder at Lucifer while his fingers stretched as much as they could, trying to keep circulation going.
The next one was hard enough where it made Lucifer's hand hurt and tingle, but he didn't say anything about it, only leaned in close and dug his teeth into Samandriel's shoulder.
“Four!” Samandriel said, voice breaking somewhere between the vowels. His fingers curled tight into his palms, nails digging against skin. Not only was that going to leave a mark, but it went straight to his cock. Pain was...oh god, pain was amazing when it came from him.
"Now thank me," Lucifer said, voice easy as a fucking Sunday morning, and breath hot against Samandriel's neck. "Thank me, and I'll give you more."
“Thank you, Lucifer,” Samandriel said, feeling a bit unsteady with want. He might have to lie down again. He wasn’t sure if he could keep his balance.
"You're being very good," Lucifer said, and there was a smile in his voice before he pressed his lips in a gentle kiss on the spot he'd just bitten. Rubbing his hand over the well past pink curve of Samandriel's ass, he hovered again before giving two sharp slaps in rapid succession.
“Thank you, Lucifer,” Samandriel said again, breathing hard, but pleased that he could please his boyfriend like this. He liked being good. It suited him. “Five. Six.” Samandriel counted, bowing forward a bit. His shoulders didn’t seem to want to support his weight anymore and he was pretty sure his hips would be next.
Lucifer seemed to notice this, and moved accordingly, pulling himself closer and wrapping his free hand around the boys' waist, keeping him held up. "Seven left. Can you handle it, little angel?"
“Yes, Lucifer,” Samandriel said, eyes shut tightly. He could manage. He would manage. Lucifer wanted him to after all and he would do so much in the name of pleasing the other angel.
"You are Good, Samandriel." Lucifer said kindly. He really was proud of the boy, so well behaved and trying so hard to continue to be. His next swat was nearly gentle, for what it was.
Gentle, yes, but Samandriel’s skin was so sensitive that something harder might’ve been less cruel. “Seven,” he said, voice high pitched and arms pulling on the tie as if that might help make this easier for him, might draw his brain away from his ass and his cock somehow. It didn’t. There was no way he could go back to the calculus either.
Lucifer murmured vague appreciations for the next few swats -- told Samandriel that he was beautiful and doing so well, so very well, and wasn't he good? He petted the younger angel's back, letting the tingle set in. It must have burned terribly by now, and Lucifer didn't really envy the boys' future struggle for sitting.
"Three left," he said, after a time.
“Thank you, Lucifer,” Samandriel said, half wrecked already. At least the pain in his rear was keeping him from focusing on his still (somehow) hard cock. And when they came, Samandriel counted them off dutifully, “Thirteen” coming out as a near sob, but he managed.
Lucifer leaned down a little closer, teeth grazing against the shell of Samandriel's ear when they were through, and free hand slipping from ass to that neglected erection, probably just as painful at this point. Just one stroke, slow and lazy. "Now come."
Samandriel felt absolutely destroyed, but god help him he came anyway like there were parts of him that could not disobey an order from Lucifer or maybe couldn’t refuse another angel who outranked him.
Shattered as he was, to the point of crying when he came, he almost didn’t notice the sound of great wings unfolding and stretching behind him, poised for flight but not moving. Almost. He heard it dimly, but couldn’t bring himself to lift his head to look even though the sound had to be much louder to anyone who didn’t have so much blood pumping through their ears.
It was like a brief sunrise unfolding from Samandriel's back, the curves of his shoulder blades -- bright, beautiful like Hawaii in the morning. Wings. And then they were gone, or at least not visible. Lucifer stared. Blinked. Stared again, in hopes they might return.
It was a jarring enough thing where he'd nearly forgotten what they were doing, what they were in the middle (or at the end) of. "Angel," he said, and it might have just been a statement.
The word brought Samandriel back to him. He lifted his head and felt with the shifting of his back that those wings he’d heard were his and somehow not Lucifer’s. The wings moved and Samandriel could see all the colors hidden in them, pinks and oranges and hints of purple. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so beautiful while he was waking.
“Oh,” he said, watching them as he stretched and flexed. And one very strange discordant thought settled in his mind. “I’m really not human,” he whispered. If he could see those wings, who else could? How was he going to get clothes on?
"Where did they go?" Lucifer asked, looking awed and perplexed and just a bit younger due to all of that. Nearly absently, he moved his fingers to undo the bindings on the angel's wrists, because if nothing else, it was very clear that this new development required freedom.
“They’re still there,” Samandriel said, looking confused at Lucifer as he sat back on his heels, kneeling on the bed now. “Can’t you see them?”
"No, not anymore." Lucifer focused his eyes past Samandriel, over his shoulder as if looking harder might make those majestic things reappear. "Only for a moment, and then…?" Of course, he had to reach over to touch where they had been. Were?
Samandriel thought really hard about making them visible again, focused on spreading them so that Lucifer could see where he was reaching to touch (and missing by a good foot.) Eventually, he felt the power shift in him and thought maybe the other angel could see.
"Oh," said Lucifer, and he was well aware that he probably seemed very silly -- quite a difference in personality from what he'd been just a few moments before. Still, when your boyfriend suddenly sprouted wings, one was allowed to get a little whimsical.
"That's beautiful," he said, and meant it, brushing his hands against the top of one wing, careful and cautious.
Samandriel managed the mental fortitude required to both move the wings and keep them visible. He shifted it lower so that Lucifer could touch more if he liked. They did fairly dwarf his small frame. He even, somehow, managed to ignore the pain shooting through his backside while he sat. “Thank you, Lucifer.”
Lucifer did like. They were soft, those wings. Not quite like a bird, but something wholly different and not of this world. Perfect, though. The colors were ridiculous and vivid, and even now in his awe, the older man was sure of how much they suited Samandriel.
Sometimes, there were just no words.
The pain became too much and the energy required to focus through it was quickly a thing he didn’t have. The wings flickered and faded from visibility and, exhausted, Samandriel fell over onto one side, breathing shallowly while he tried to find his strength.
He needn't find it, though. Lucifer nearly forgot the moment, but he supposed Samandriel could not. "You're tired," he said, fond and gentle. "Go to sleep." He couldn't imagine the kind of effort it took to make something visible when it clearly was meant to be invisible to the normal eye.
His angel really did have some strange timing, though.
It wasn’t like Samandriel had any control over when these things came at all. It was much like puberty in that respect. He settled properly on the bed, reaching out for Lucifer. “Stay with me?”
"Of course," Lucifer said, because it was harder for him to refuse anything the boy asked for than Samandriel must have realized. He scooted them both over so that they might avoid the current mess on the sheets, and curled next to the angel on the bed. Later he'd think to remove his clothes, but he was content for the time being.
Samandriel nestled into Lucifer’s chest, nose against fine cotton. His wings didn’t seem to be much affected by the physical world around them, but that didn’t stop him from stretching one and curling it over Lucifer as though that might keep him right there for longer.