Lucifer stroked his thumb hard against Dean's adam's apple, pulled him back just enough so that they were looking eye to eye. "I don't know," he said, quietly. "But you're going to stop telling Samandriel what to do, and you're going to tell me in as much detail as possible." He nipped at Dean's lip as if to punctuate his words and then turned his head a little to suck and bite a lasting mark onto Dean's neck.
Groaning, Cas seemed to take to all of Samandriel's words, rocking himself into each thrust no matter how hard. He was going to be all kinds of sore tomorrow and he couldn't even think about it hard enough to feel warmed over it. Unsteadily, he attempted both backing into Samandriel and tilting his hips to thrust into his brother's hand as well -- almost unconsciously, he spread his wings out fully as if that might give him a better balance to work with.
Samandriel tensed. He could feel Dean start to rile with Lucifer’s words and the last thing he wanted was an argument between the pair of them. Where Cas’ wings spread out, Samandriel’s drew in as tightly as they could. He fucked harder into Castiel, head bowed as he tried to sort out which orders he should be following. Lucifer technically hadn’t told him to do anything, but that didn’t mean that he was supposed to do what Dean said. It was all very confusing.
He stopped stroking Cas’ cock so he could hold his hips with both hands instead. He thrust as much as he dared, knowing that for the time being he was stronger than anyone in the room and really genuinely not wanting to hurt Cas beyond perhaps adding a few more finger shaped bruises to his hips. Fucking like this though...if Dean’s mood wasn’t where it was and Samandriel wasn’t picking up on it, he’d be begging to come already.
Dean looked as if he was about to fight Lucifer on those words, about to tell him that his boy was fucking his husband and he had every right to have some say in the matter the same way Lucifer had a voice in what Cas did to the kid. Instead, he fought differently, tearing away from where Lucifer was marking him (thus making the mark that much worse around the edges,) and shifting his head to speak roughly against the other man’s mouth. “I would let you drag me downstairs and use every damn toy I’ve trained myself to hate just for a chance at your cock.” Every damn toy he’d trained himself to hate was actually most of them. There’d been so much going on in his one foray into that kind of Work that he didn’t know where to begin to allow himself to be that completely vulnerable again.
“I’d let you tie me up and gag me right here and now if I thought it’d do me even a hint of getting further in your good graces.” But it wouldn’t end in him getting fucked, not tonight. It might get him closer to it next time, but probably not close enough. His other hand moved on Cas’ head with his husband’s eager work, present and not much more than that to give him the freedom to move as he saw fit. “I would endure, and I’m going to make you work for this just as much as you are me.”
Lucifer's foremost response was to kiss Dean -- an open, easy sort of kiss that bordered on entirely too soft, before he pulled back just a little. "Dean," he said, barely a whisper and the words mostly just going into the other man's mouth. "You're already in my good graces. I'm terribly fond of you, and would never ask you to do anything that made you uncomfortable. Not like that. Desperation suits you, but tears don't."