InsaneJournal

Who: Samandriel & Lucifer
What: Talking, sex, wings
When: after this
Where: Lucifer’s. And then Maui.
Rating: High, warnings for relations between an adult and someone a few months shy of 18.
Status: Complete



It started with the declaration of going to bed, which was met with a reminder that he needed to set his alarm for tomorrow and a dismissive wave. Samandriel’s father might’ve said goodnight, but he was already drinking away a migraine and his wife’s crazy. It wouldn’t be long before he’d passed out on the couch in his office.

Samandriel didn’t even bother getting changed. He simply set his viola down in the chair and left his room to find himself in Lucifer’s house announced only by the beating of wings. The night had been profoundly painful.

“I can’t stay there,” he told the other man, not giving a single fuck for what Lucifer was doing at the moment. “Not tonight. Please don’t make me.”

For all the fucks Samandriel wasn't giving, Lucifer was in his kitchen, sipping at something that looked profoundly stronger than tea. He seemed wholly unsurprised to see his boy, even if he had just appeared out of thin air, with only that noise of wings in accompaniment. No one could blame Samandriel for wanting to be somewhere that offered any kind of warmth as opposed to -- there.

The blond gave him a look and then turned to pull down another glass. "I wouldn't make you. Not tonight. Have a seat." A brandy, on the rocks was pushed in front of the boy not ten seconds later.

Samandriel didn’t really want to drink it, but he took it anyway, sipping at what was very fine liquor. Sipping might’ve been an understatement. Slamming it back in one swallow and trying not to hiss as it burned down his throat was definitely more accurate.

From where he was sitting at the kitchen table, he directed all his wounded energy at the front of the refrigerator since Lucifer deserved none of it. “She was on her phone the entire concert. She stayed for maybe the first five minutes at the beginning and then after intermission and then left again to go stand in the lobby and take care of things that were important.”

Moving to stand behind the younger man, Lucifer let out a huff of a noise that was clearly annoyance. Also, possibly, directed at the refrigerator, because it clearly wasn't meant for Samandriel. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's shoulder in a little hug and settled his chin on top of his head.

"I noticed. Of course I noticed. I can only imagine how unsettling that is. I'm sure there's comfort in the fact that you won't have to put up with it much longer?"

Samandriel closed his eyes and leaned back against Lucifer as much as the chair would allow, which wasn’t much at all, it being fancy and all. “And the whole way home she snapped at me for making a bad impression on you.” He shifted into a mocking impression of his mother, “You had better be extra polite tomorrow, Samandriel. I will not have you ruining what could be very good for both of our futures just because your communication skills are lacking and furthermore. Blah blah blah blah. Like she didn’t just try to sell me like some piece of property.”

He closed his eyes tightly and would have tried to crawl into himself, but Lucifer was there and Lucifer loved him.

Lucifer let out a snort of a laugh at the impression, although it wasn't actually all that funny. Or funny at all, really. Samandriel was hardly property to be bought, even if Lucifer did sort of own him. In that given freely sort of way -- which was the most important part of all.

He kissed the top of the angel's head. "Well, you'll just have to make a good impression tomorrow. Wouldn't want to disappoint."

“Do whatever it takes, Samandriel Sean. Don’t you dare ruin this,” he said, slipping back into his impression. He sighed and reached up to undo his bowtie in one easy tug before the alcohol started hitting him. “It’s cute how she’s pretending that she cares at all about me and not just how I reflect on her.”

He wasn’t even upset with his father. He just felt sorry for him. Samandriel got up to take off his jacket and start at the buttons of his waistcoat.

Lucifer took over with deft fingers -- brushing away Samandriel's own hands and working slowly at undoing each button in a gesture that was both interested and loving. It was clear the boy needed more affection, tonight in particular.

"It isn't cute. And she doesn't deserve your good behavior," he agreed, removing the waistcoat with ease and setting against the back of a chair before moving on to untuck his shirt and start at the buttons there. "But it is what it is, isn't it? You've clearly dealt with it for a good deal of time. Remember that tonight was for you. You did magnificently."
Samandriel smiled a little at that, glad always for Lucifer’s pride in him. He liked Lucifer undressing him, liked it rather a lot and couldn’t help but look up at him as though he was the most amazing thing in the world.

“Part of me thinks you should draft up a freelancing contract that actually does what she implied and see if she notices.” They couldn’t risk it, of course, but it was an interesting little vengeful thought. He shrugged out of his shirt when Lucifer finished relieving him of it.

His hands slid up the elder angel’s chest and he rose up to kiss him. He lacked the dexterity for the moment to manage Lucifer’s buttons and he hoped he’d be forgiven for that. “It was nice listening to you talk about me, even if we had to play at not knowing each other and...and shaking your hand wasn’t nearly enough.”

Lucifer knew better than to try playing any sort of trick like that with a lawyer, but it was a cute thought. He knew his own form of revenge would come later, though. When he stole that boy out from between her fingers on the day he turned eighteen. Wouldn't she feel silly then, for trying to sell to Lucifer what was already his?

"You deserved more praise than that," he told Samandriel, leaning down to take another kiss and unoffended wholly over having to work at the buttons of his own shirt. He'd lost his bow tie and all the rest of the coats when he'd returned home, luckily. "But we had parts to play. Now we don't. Tell me, Samandriel. What would you like in reward?"

Another kiss was amazing, and Samandriel accepted it gladly. “Will you have me, please, Lucifer?” he asked, fingers running over bare skin once it was revealed. His mouth found Lucifer’s collar bone while his body started getting all warm and tingly. The brandy must have been a very good idea indeed.

Brandy, when handled in moderations, was rarely ever a bad idea. Samandriel had needed to unwind a bit, and that seemed to have done the trick.

Hopefully the boy wasn't too much of a lightweight -- he did have an interview tomorrow, after all. And the SATs apparently, but Lucifer rather doubted that his previous score had been anything to scoff at in the first place.

"Of course," he murmured, shrugging out of his own shirt once he'd managed the buttons and Samandriel's mouth on his collarbone. The boy really did have a talented mouth. "Upstairs, little angel."

“Yes, sir,” Samandriel teased lightly, almost laughing as he took the angelic way up the stairs and got out of his shoes and socks while he was waiting for Lucifer up there. The other man could take care of the rest of his clothes. It only seemed fair.

Lucifer rolled his eyes at that -- albeit a bit fondly. It was an interesting thing, to watch someone just blink in and out of existence. But it seemed to both suit Samandriel and make him happy, so he wasn't going to complain.

He picked up all their clothing and then made his way up the stairs toward his bedroom. "Lubricant is in the drawer," he said, depositing the clothing neatly on a nearby chair. "Prepare yourself for me."

Samandriel stripped out of the rest of his clothes and set about doing just that, stretching himself open as best he could. He’d been practicing from time to time so that he could do just this. It might’ve been a bit weird for anyone else, but he knew it would be expected of him eventually and he didn’t want to try anyone’s patience.

Stretched out on his back, he hoped he made a pleasing picture, but found himself too tingly and nice from the brandy to worry overmuch about it.

Lucifer would have been remiss not to watch -- clearly Samandriel was working to make a show of it, and was doing it well. He smiled to himself and stood at the edge of the bed, leaning against the footboard even as he unfastened his own pants.

"You've practiced this, I see."

“Yes, Lucifer,” Samandriel said, watching the elder man intently while he fucked down onto his own fingers. Three of them now. He could probably get a fourth, but he didn’t want to risk the wrist strain. “Wanted to be able to do it well for you.” He tried to avoid the word ‘perfect,’ even though that was clearly what was implied.

The implication was caught, and Lucifer was certain that Samandriel was managing that just how he'd hoped. Perfectly. He was always a little surprised by how unabashed the boy was -- how he was confident with what he had and knew exactly what he wanted. It was refreshing; attractive.

Stepping out of his slacks and not caring to bother with picking them up from the floor he moved to sit on the bed, scooting toward the middle of it while still watching. "And you are. Come here, now."

Samandriel straddled Lucifer, and he meant very much to just stay in bed with him. Really, he did. But he also wanted to be as far away from his mother as he thought he could. The whole control thing wasn’t exactly something Samandriel was used to yet. It took him a moment to reorient when he realized that the bed had become sand and they were no longer in Lucifer’s at all but rather on what seemed to be a very secluded beach on an island. The sun was setting behind him. There didn’t seem to be anyone for a few miles at least. This was probably the best accident he’d ever managed.

“Lucifer,” he said softly, watching the colors of the sunset on his lover’s skin.

Lucifer stilled, fingers curled around Samandriel's waist even as he looked around (because who wouldn't be shocked at surprise teleportation?). His confusion and wariness melted away quickly though, giving way to bemusement and -- something else.

He knew this sunset, the way the beach looked. Hawaii? Something close to it.

"Samandriel," he replied, hugging the boy closer onto his lap, lips landing on to his neck for a quick kiss, and tone low. "It's like that sky was made just for you, little angel." The sunset did look like his wings -- that perfect mix of warm, almost whimsical colors.

“I helped paint it,” Samandriel whispered, kissing Lucifer’s temple. “How do you think my wings got to be the color they are? Painting a whole sky is messy business.” It was a story, no matter how there was some truth to it, but Samandriel liked the imagery all the same. His wings spread out behind him where Lucifer could see. There was room. No one else was near enough in any direction to glimpse anything even if they could see.

“Please?” he asked, his hips moving a little against Lucifer’s. “Will you have me?”

They did match almost perfectly. Like Samandriel could stand with his wings spread out and just blend in to the view. It was a bit breathtaking, if he had to be honest. Which he was.

"I already said I would," Lucifer reminded, moving enough where he could balance on his palms, shifting his hips upward. It was soft sand, really soft. Like sitting on silk that had been warmed to perfection. He supposed there was no better kind, if they were going to do something like this in it.

"Just like this," he murmured. "I want to watch you like this." His wings in the sunset. His face just as bright but in a completely different way.

This was about the time that Lucifer realized that Samandriel kind of just made him a sap.

Samandriel shifted up a bit so that he could lower himself down onto Lucifer’s cock slow and steady. The stretch of his dick felt good in the places that slender fingers couldn’t quite manage, not pain but a pleasant pull as though reminding Samandriel that he could never be quite full on his own.

He closed his eyes briefly to appreciate it.

And then he started moving, wings working to help him keep a steady pace and his balance, to make it so that his knees and thighs weren’t doing all the work. They let him stay upright so that he could watch Lucifer, let his fingers wander that skin that he only wanted to kiss and mark as his everywhere as surely as Lucifer himself did to him.

Wings, apparently, had many benefits. Lucifer approved greatly. One hand balanced behind him, he settled his other on Samandriel's hip -- nails digging deeply into the skin and bone there to guide the younger angel into a pacing that was just a little quicker, a little more forceful. It was good like this, good that he could lean forward a little and kiss the boy until he was breathless.

Samandriel kissed him back deeply, working hard at keeping track of both that and the pace Lucifer wanted, moaning desperately into his mouth. His fingers tangled in his archangel’s hair. It might’ve been messier, having sex bare on the beach, but there was something in the primal way of doing things that felt right to Samandriel. It was like this was their beach, that they had helped to make it and so it was their right to do what they pleased there, and Lucifer’s right to take what was his.

“I love you,” he gasped when the kiss broke over and over again, not caring if Lucifer ever said it back. He could whisper that promise into the wind enough for both of them and let the breeze carry it everywhere. This wasn’t devil worship, even though technically he supposed it was. Mostly, it was just love.

It wasn't hard to move the boy -- to shift and roll them both over mid thrust until Samandriel was on his back and Lucifer on top between his legs. He needn't be worried about those wings that just seemed to go through things and round them -- just as lovely against the sand as they had been the sky.

"Mine," he said in response -- an admittance of the same thing, equal claim, but different terms.

Samandriel loved the look of Lucifer above him, the shadows cast by the sunset cutting sharp and dark between them. There was power in that, power that Samandriel couldn’t help but respond to.

“Yours,” he gasped, the sound half high pitched with a particularly well placed thrust. “Always.”

That little gasp made Lucifer feel a bit smug. It wasn't hard to, considering. The attentions this boy could have for anyone -- anyone at all, who might be happy to receive them -- and they were his. Samandriel was his. A few weeks ago he might have been the slightest bit wary -- but now he knew better. Samandriel was nearly a timeless being -- clever and creative and beautiful in ways that few to none others could ever manage. It must have been love then.

Even if he wouldn't say it. Not yet.

Lifting one of Samandriel's legs slightly, he snapped his hips forward a little more sharply, gasping his own approval out over it even as he did so. "So Good," he said, feeling a bit breathless, himself.

Samandriel shifted the other leg higher, braced his weight back against his shoulders so that Lucifer could fuck him harder. It was so much effort to maintain eye contact, but he needed to keep watching him, to catalogue every moment. Nothing else existed in the world, just them.

He didn’t dare touch himself. His orgasm was in Lucifer’s hands, felt like it always had been. If being with Castiel and Dean had taught him anything, it was how to focus his attention away from imminent release. Then, he had help. Now, he figured that perhaps he’d learned enough to manage at least some on his own.

“Lucifer. Lucifer, please.” But his little moans and whimpers were louder now, no longer even drowned out a little bit by the sound of the surf hitting the shore. “Please,” and finally he articulated his need, communicated in full with desperate eye contact, “don’t leave me.” He had seen him Fall before. He couldn’t take being torn from him again.

Even in the concentration of moving - hard thrusts and then slower ones just for the consistency of inconsistency -- it was easy to curl his fingers around Samandriel's erection, and he stroked at it with greedy fingers.

Talking shouldn't have been in the question, but he managed it nearly as well as Sam. "Where would I go?" He was no angel here, only the idea of one, and he had no intention of going anywhere he didn't want to.

“I don’t care,” he cried out, toes curling even as he hitched one leg over Lucifer’s shoulder. “Just don’t make it away from me.” It felt good. Too good, really. He bit hard into his lower lip, struggling to keep from coming, wanting to be Good, but the emotions of the day were tumultuous in him, and he didn’t think he could hold off much longer. “Close.”

Lucifer didn't mind. He was under no impression that every single thing they did had to be a play of power (even if it was always there, somewhere in the background). Sometimes, this was enough. Samandriel deserved proper good attention and a loving hand, and Lucifer was happy enough to be the one to give it to him.

"Go ahead," he told the angel, because he was close too -- knew that when Samandriel came -- all clenched muscles and tightness, he wouldn't be able to help himself, either. Not even if he'd wanted to.

And he did, oh god did Samandriel come. It was messy and wonderful and he could feel it all the way in his toes and the tips of his fingers and even his wings, shuddering and curling around Lucifer to keep him close.

It was good, like Samandriel was good, coming inside of the angel with a noise that could only be called pleased, and Lucifer couldn't help from kissing his boyfriend at the same time, making their breathlessness more profound.

Even as silky as the sand was, it made it hard to linger in this particular position, and so after a moment of panting and kissing, the older man pulled free only and away only to twist them around again, him on his back and Samandriel nearly on top of him.

Samandriel accepted it gladly, stretching out on Lucifer to kiss him some more. “I think I’d like you to mark me more permanently,” he said, though he didn’t know how he might mean that. He just knew he wanted something of Lucifer to have with him always whether that be a collar or a scar or a tattoo, he neither knew nor cared. Just Lucifer. That was all.

It was easy to shift his head until the sand was a like a dent of a pillow for him -- to look up at the sky which had gone more pink and purple since they'd arrived, but was still lovely in its own right. He considered for a moment, and found he didn't mind the request. It was nice to think that Samandriel might have something with or on him that was Lucifer's. A constant reminder. "I think I'd like that too. Give me some time to consider what might suit you best, though. Good things are not meant to be rushed just for the sake of it." Lucifer preferred subtle and as classy as possible, after all.

Samandriel smiled and finally got up. “Come on. As long as we’re here we have to get in the water. Location demands it.” He didn’t so much offer his hand as he did grin wickedly and run towards the ocean proper.

If it was possible to shove his head back any farther into the sand, Lucifer definitely did it, and offered a sigh that clearly said he was entirely too old for such silliness.

But it was a lie, and he made it clear by pulling himself up a minute later and following his boyfriend into the water. The boy was small, and wings or otherwise, he was fairly certain he'd be able to dunk him properly if given the chance.