Samandriel stayed in the room proper, letting Damon have his space and fresh ocean air. “The post-concert disaster is what happens when your parents meet your boyfriend, but don’t realize they’re meeting your boyfriend and see it only as a lucrative job offer for you to quit freaking Jamba Juice and do something you love that pays better. Followed by a conversation with your celestial brother that’s a bit awkward because he seems to be under the impression that you were...somehow taken advantage of or less than satisfied with a very suddenly sexual situation that resulted in his husband ordering him to come on your face.” Samandriel shrugged. “It was a stressful night. Castiel and I sorted things out by the end of it, but that didn’t stop me from being upset about the crap my mother continually pulls.”
Damon had an incredulous look on his face by the end of that explanation. “I thought my family was fucked up. Your - oh shit, you know I would have been laughing my ass of for a month about that. I also have to meet these people.” That was a story for the books, really. He arched a brow, “So I don’t think you were taken advantage of so much. I think in spite of inexperience, you know what you like and what you want, and that is attractive. Are you satisfied though?”
“Dean and Castiel you’re more than welcome to meet. My parents are staying in their little box where they know absolutely nothing at all of what happens behind closed doors.” Samandriel leaned against the door frame, playing idly with his tie now, weaving it between his fingers. “No, I wasn’t taken advantage of. If I hadn’t wanted what was happening, I would have just left. It was an exhilarating night and I regret not a moment of it nor the ones that followed.” Particularly himself and Castiel in Venice. Now that was lovely. He looked up at Damon curiously. “Satisfied? I’m not entirely sure I understand your question.”
“I wasn’t referring to the parents, don’t worry,” Damon laughed. “It will be bad enough introducing Elena to mine, let alone you and your wings.” While he was teasing, he was quite sure that papa Salvatore would be quite shocked by the angel.
“If you have no regrets, then you are in the right place.” Damon looked out to the ocean. It was quite peaceful tonight. “I did ask though, are you satisfied with yourself, and your relationships? Do you want more?” Again, the eyebrow arched and he turned. “Maybe the better question is what more do you want?”
Samandriel walked out to join him, hopping up to sit on the balcony railing. He thought about the question for a very, very long moment. “To obey,” he said softly. “It’s what I was built to do since the beginning of time itself. Now, Lucifer manages it to an extent, but I’m allowed a very, very long leash. It’s not necessarily something I mind at all. I rather enjoy having the freedom to be with who I’m with when I choose to be with them, and having the ability to choose, to love, to fear to...to experience every emotion isn’t something I’d ever give up, but sometimes I wish he’d keep a tighter rein on me.” He looked out over the ocean, unable to look at Damon at all while he spoke.
“I think that’s what I’m still looking for, in the end. In my dream life, I was absolutely in love with and completely devoted to both Castiel and Lucifer at different times, even if Castiel is the one I ultimately rebelled for, but only because I’d learned what regret felt like after watching Lucifer fall. But there’s a certain amount of inevitability when it comes to me being with either of them. I’d like someone completely unconnected to that life, someone who respects what I am and all the power that comes with it, and yet when I’m with that person, whoever they are for whatever time I’m with them before going back to Lucifer, that they’ll take that power and every part of me that comes with it and marshall it. I ache to submit far more than I’ve ever been asked to and I highly doubt that Lucifer will ever do more than he already has.” It was a damn shame for him to realize that he was actually kinkier than his boyfriend, particularly when that boyfriend had a mythological reputation for being the hardest of asses.