Lucifer Morningstar didn't make you do shit. (didnt_make_you) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-02-02 17:16:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, lucifer morningstar, samandriel |
Who: Lucifer Morningstar & Samandriel
What: Drinks
When: 1/28 - directly after this thread
Where: Their place
Rating: Relatively low
Status: Complete
Samandriel hadn’t decided yet if his walking away from Damon was permanent or not. The amount of shit the vampire seemed so willing to and more than capable of bringing down on him was wearing thin. He’d worded his goodbye exactly as specifically as he’d worded so much else he’d told Damon over the months they’d known each other. He was tired. He needed to rest. He drank his juice (one of the few things that was still palatable to him,) and slipped into Lucifer’s office. He supposed he should have offered some warning or asked permission, but his love shouldn’t have been surprised at all when Samandriel brushed their hands together and brought them home.
“I didn’t mean to break concentration,” he said, getting the immediately necessary apology out of the way first. It’d been clear that he’d recovered quickly, but that didn’t excuse the slip in the first place. Still, it was the best he’d done in public with something he really wanted to actually be listening to. Vast focus improvement on Samandriel’s part. He thought on the whole, Lucifer would be proud of him.
Lucifer was proud, there was no doubt about that. He brushed his thumb over Samandriel's knuckles and tilted his head slightly to the side, acknowledging the apology immediately. "I know," he said. "I'm not concerned. What is it you heard?" It was momentary at best, and that had been obvious, more than telling in the music alone.
Samandriel slipped away, but only far enough to put his violin on its stand. He smiled over his shoulder at Lucifer, repeating exactly the only words he’d caught of the conversation. “I'm never wrong when it comes to Samandriel.” He shrugged. “That was it. And then I got to thinking about the confidence in your voice and...everything else that does to me and how I wanted to keep you proud and pleased so that I could maybe hear that more.” Confidence and so much more in it. Samandriel belonged to Lucifer and the archangel knew it as surely as those who still lived knew how to breathe or cells knew how to divide. He didn’t need to know if Damon had questioned at all, because in all honesty, it didn’t matter if Damon had questioned. It wasn’t Damon’s relationship to have any input at all in.
"Now the subsequent music makes all the more sense," Lucifer nearly teased, pressing a little kiss onto Samandriel's forehead before tugging the younger angel over to the overly soft leather couches on the other side of the room. Angel or otherwise, Lucifer still enjoyed his creature comforts in ways that might put others to shame. Only now he could do it more easily. It took only a thought for the martini that he'd left in his office to return to his hand. "I was proud. And I'm still pleased. Good things will come of it eventually." It was a promise of reward, but not one for this given second.
"Your vampire lacks a certain amount of charm." Samandriel hadn't been wrong; Lucifer had not been impressed.
Samandriel tried not to beam overmuch at Lucifer’s pleasure in him, but he really couldn’t keep himself from preening under the praise. He settled down comfortably next to his partner on the sofa, tucking against him because Lucifer was honestly the safest place for him. Nothing touched him while he was with the other angel. Nothing at all.
“I’m not going to make excuses for his behaviour,” he said softly. That was partly because he didn’t know what that behaviour was and mostly because Damon was a grown ass man and didn’t need teenagers standing up for him. The sign of a true asshole was how often people showed up to try to convince you that said asshole isn’t really one. Samandriel had no delusions when it came to Damon. He supposed it didn’t really matter. He really was going to take a very large step back from that particular vampire just so they could both get their lives under control again. Damon’s timing left quite a lot to be desired on Samandriel’s end. Some warning definitely would have been appreciated and being inconsiderate like that...well, it hadn’t won Damon any points to say the least.
“He’s his own responsibility.” Samandriel closed his eyes. Sleep might not have been necessary, but it was a quiet comfort and intimacy he’d been unable to let go of. This was far more basking than it was anything approaching bedtime. “There was...a certain amount of roughness I needed during sex that I didn’t want to ask for from you,” as per their conversation, “so I sought it out elsewhere. Given how everything’s fallen out, his willingness to bite isn’t worth this.”
"I wasn't expecting excuses. He is grown. And so are you. You'll both deal with your problems and messes accordingly, I'm sure."
Lucifer had known that Samandriel had intended to find something a little more in terms of bite and rough -- both things that Lucifer no longer felt comfortable doing with Samandriel -- and now things that most likely would never be wanted from him again due to no fault of theirs.
He hummed thoughtfully, sipping his martini for a moment and then glanced down at Samandriel wonderingly. "I know it's something you occasionally crave, little angel. And where you get it isn't my business so long as I'm aware of it - like we've spoken on." He paused, choosing his next words more carefully than usual. "But I do wonder why you don't just ask Castiel? He's at least a choice that speaks only subtly and doesn't have any messes to make."
“I meant to,” Samandriel said, shifting to rest his head in Lucifer’s lap instead. There was something about that particular nickname, one that no one else used or would have gotten away with otherwise that just turned him into the happiest, most cuddly thing in Creation. Lucifer was aware of all of Samandriel’s dealings. He saw no reason to hide anything from him. From the first time he and Castiel did things on their own to his latest escapade with Michael, Lucifer knew it all and the reasons behind them. There was no one he truly trusted any more outside the four of them.
“And then I dreamt of my end in that life and no matter how much I forgave him for it, I needed something different from him while I adapted to that knowledge and how we’d discuss it whenever he got to that point.” It was something they’d seen on screen, an end that Samandriel had made them both watch because he really had wanted to see exactly how everything had gone down. He just didn’t think he could have done it without Lucifer with him. “I’ll speak with him on it.”
Lucifer was obviously aware of the dream dealings Samandriel had with Castiel, as well as the fact that they were… televised (and yes, that was strange, but no stranger than watching people who called themselves Jedi speaking about Star Wars on the valarnet, really. Just a bit more personal). Sometimes he forgot that not everyone was able to compartmentalize as well as he was. To Lucifer, despite the talents that came with them, the dreams were just dreams. They had no large effect on what he did in his real life.
That could, he supposed, be easier on him considering he didn't have people from his own dreams here. Not really. He recognized some few people as close but not quite.
"No pressure," the older angel assured placatingly. "You needn't even do it if you don't want to. It was merely a suggestion."
Samandriel licked his lips, considering everything as he looked up at Lucifer from his position on his partner’s lap. “No, I think I will.” Castiel in the dreams was very much not the Castiel here. The only real question was of crossing the killing Samandriel bridge when his brother got to it and even that wouldn’t be a big deal since the television show had confirmed the angel’s suspicions on the matter. Sometimes, he could still hear his brother’s voice in the back of his mind. Samandriel was Good. He wouldn’t be forgetting the agonized look on his face when he realized what he had done. Likely, he’d be getting a taste of that look in this life as well. All in all, the whole televised fictional narrative of his life and the people he considered family was something he was handling quite well.
It had also been rather nice to get some clarification on matters he hadn’t been fully privy to in his dreams. Depressing as it was, it was clear to Samandriel that John Winchester had been an utter bastard in both lives. To think anyone would have considered him to be the righteous man. It was disgusting. Hell might have had their doubts, but Heaven had always known it was Dean. He reached up to touch Lucifer’s face, to look into those golden eyes of the man he loved so much. “You’re not a big fan of making me do things I truly don’t wish to anyway,” he pointed out. Samandriel licked his lips. “Will you tell me what you spoke of? I’d like to make as informed a decision here as possible.” The decision was not between the two men, but how much involvement Damon might still have in his life. Making a poor impression on Lucifer didn’t get you very far where Samandriel was concerned, particularly when it was so easy for you to end up on the positive end of neutral with him.
Taking Samandriel's hand in his own, Lucifer turned it palm up and offered a small press of a kiss there. Despite how often Samandriel played his instruments, his hands were always the very softest - one of the tiny perks of being angelic, really. In the grand scheme of things soft hands hardly mattered, but Lucifer liked it regardless.
No, Lucifer wasn't a big fan of making Samandriel do things he didn't want to - and never had been. Most of what he asked of the boy was more about restraint and patience than it was anything unsavory or unpleasant for either of them. He hummed his assent and then sipped his drink again. "Mostly we spoke of you," he said, "but that's probably obvious." It took a moment of consideration -- to really think about what the point of their conversation had been.
"He wanted to know where he might fit into your life in terms of the future. I felt it was my duty to inform him that that was completely up to him and the amount of effort he put into it." The archangel paused, ran his thumb over Samandriel's palm. "He seemed more interested in attempting to find loopholes in my my conversation than he was in taking my advice." There it was again: Lucifer's mildly spoken implication of being completely and utterly unimpressed. It was nearly a shame, because he'd gone into the scenario with more of an open mind than he might normally have. Since Dean and Castiel, Lucifer had become more willing to be open with his life, include more people. Damon had clearly not seen the offer for what it was.
Samandriel nodded, considering all the information before him. “He was under the impression I hadn’t told you everything.” Which was foolish, of course. The angel had never been less than completely honest with Lucifer, even when he wanted oh so badly to avoid speaking on a particular topic. He curled his fingers around Lucifer’s, bringing the archangel’s hand down to ghost a kiss across the rise of his knuckles.
“He can have my friendship then, for what it’s worth,” which was really quite a lot, but Samandriel had become notoriously awful at turning his back on anyone. “And the offer of food when he does turn, but only because I can see him screwing up something awful and killing people without it.” Killing people and perhaps then blaming them for dying. He wasn’t sure what Damon’s MO was when it came to that, but it wouldn’t have surprised him. “I don’t think I’ll be allowing him the privilege of my body again.” Not if he wasn’t going to respect the relationship that Samandriel put above all others and the amount of communication and trust inherent in what he and Lucifer had together.
That was a fairly cute impression, though. Lucifer had attempted to describe the amount of trust that a relationship like his and Samandriel's entailed. Trust in such strong amount could only possibly be achieved with constant communication. If nothing else, the two angels were ridiculously self aware. If Damon wanted to focus instead on pushing the idea that he didn't care for the idea of obedience, that was hardly Lucifer's problem: as the elder angel had said - he wasn't interested in having that.
"Whatever you think best," Lucifer said, mild but clearly approving of Samandriel's general decision. Then again, it was possible he might have approved either way - it wasn't exactly a secret that Lucifer's leash on Samandriel was loose at best and he more or less let the angel do whatever he liked so long as he both communicated and was aware the consequences of his own actions. "You might have to clearly state that though." And okay, that might have been a bit prickly for Lucifer to say, but even he wasn't perfect.
Samandriel got up smoothly, shifting elegantly to straddle Lucifer’s hips and steal his martini. “I’ll let him sulk for a while, see what he decides his next move is going to be. He might stumble into something interesting without realizing it.” The same way he’d stumbled into Samandriel in the first place. He still didn’t think Damon actually understood the full measure of an angel. Normally, however, Samandriel didn’t mind being treated like a toy all that much. Damon never really seemed to grow out of it the way Dean had. Then again, Dean had always taken him seriously as a threat.
He took a sip of the martini. “I miss your glasses,” he said, changing the subject entirely. Clearly Lucifer had no need for them any longer and he got just as much attention from the young angel for the shift in color of his eyes. That didn’t mean Samandriel didn’t miss the way the black frames suited his face.
Taking the change in the conversation without bother or concern, the older angel only shook his head. "You just miss having something to play with," Lucifer teased, nodding to his now-stolen martini as if to prove his own point. He knew that wasn't exactly the case -- Samandriel did have an enormous fondness for those glasses -- but at the same time he also had an enormous fondness for taking them and wearing them himself. It was an endearingly cute quirk, and Lucifer saw no reason to curb it.
"I can still wear them if you like," he said, tracing his fingers up Samandriel's thighs and hips.
Samandriel shifted comfortably into Lucifer’s touch, relaxing as he always did under those fingertips. “Sometimes,” he said simply. “You know how hard it is for me to resist them. You might want to save some time for yourself when you might stand a chance at me not obviously attempting to seduce and distract you because I’ve come to associate your glasses with an immediate need to be fucked please and thank you.” He set the martini glass aside on the table next to the end of the couch. He stole a kiss because he could, because it pleased him to be kissing this archangel and he saw no reason not to.
“I love you,” he whispered, “and am thankful every morning that it’s you I wake up with.” It might have been overly sentimental, something Lucifer could easily dismiss, but Samandriel was prone to those kinds of things. The archangel had to be used to it by now. “Though the presence of you in full does make it a bit difficult to do anything but flit around and be pleased by it.” Focus managed to be something even more complicated for Samandriel now that Lucifer was wholly himself. All he wanted to do was pay exact attention to his partner and to please him whenever he was around. It was why that evening had been as difficult as it was for him.
Lucifer only snorted wonderingly - Samandriel had always been quick to point out when sex needed to happen, but he'd clearly gotten his wording down to a science lately. Practice made perfect, perhaps? Not that Lucifer in any way minded. Why would he?
"I'd noticed that." Lucifer wasn't dismissing the sentiments, Samandriel knew better than anyone else that he was far more of a soft touch than people might have assumed, after all. He just sort of went with them, sometimes. "You get a very awed look and you just stay looking." Honestly, it was more than a bit pleasing, that sort of open adoration and admiration.
"Don't think you aren't loved for it as well." He kissed Samandriel again, and then opened his hand palm up -- those silly thick framed glasses just sort of appearing there. "I think we should go upstairs."
Samandriel smirked. Nobody could really blame him for basking as he did in Lucifer’s presence. Instead of allowing his partner to wear them, the angel took the glasses and put them on himself. “I think that’s the best idea you’ve had all night.” With that, he took another kiss and let Lucifer’s wings carry them both upstairs.