"Oh do I?" Istredd says with a smile. "I couldn't tell with how you drape on top of me and lock your limbs into mine." They hook together sometimes in a way that's almost impossible to break out of, but he doesn't want to, so it's fine. This is not a complaint, it's a tease, considering he intentionally pulled Lucifer on top of him, as if he can't resist making them touch at all times. They both want it.
Istredd's the bad one in public. Lucifer's better at not giving into it there, Istredd has a tendency to still want to touch him. Hand holding, the occasional kiss on the cheek. It's difficult not to.
"Yes, I mean all of them. All of you." There is nothing about him Istredd hasn't been able to accept. He may not love hearing about the dark parts, but they're Lucifer. "But I liked the flying the most." Not only because it has no violence involved, but because it was beautiful. Freeing. His love has experienced endless unique things that he can only dream of.
He sits up closer so he can kiss him. Eighty or ninety years later and my life is finally interesting. Being here is interesting! And insane! He leans back onto his hands, breaking the kiss, head tipped back to look at Lucifer. "I plan on climbing all those mountain ranges."
Shut up, Istredd. Rarely does Lucifer actually give proper credit, so be pleased.
(He knows Istredd is. That's not the point.)
At least Istredd will always know he's safe and securing in an unbreakable hold of Lucifer's arms. That odd reassurance. But they would, evidently, have a problem in public from Lucifer's end if, say, Istredd was covered in blood. Not even the queen would likely keep Lucifer cautious.
... Well.
Okay.
Maybe the queen.
"Enjoy your fool's-end expedition," he says, and he's sure that's what people said about Everest and yet have had many succeed at climbing it (and coming back alive). The flying part may be the only untainted part of him. He doesn't, by some miracle, doubt Istredd's own expedition despite his spoken words.
Istredd is endlessly smug and pleased with himself when it comes to Lucifer. He has the book to prove why.
If Istredd was covered in blood, he would be smart enough to immediately excuse them somewhere else. If he had to give a report of some kind as to why, he would do it quickly, and then run off. He knows what he's about now. As strange as that 'about' may be.
Istredd grips Lucifer at the hips and turns them, placing Lucifer onto the bed if he allows it. He's graceful at it these days, but it does remind him sometimes of their first hook up. They're far enough from the drama for him to see it only in positive happy ways. He follows onto him and smiles, hands clasping Lucifer's and pressing them down against the bed.
All smokescreen, of course, Lucifer is so much stronger than him that it's hilarious. Anything he does physically is only what he allows him. But when he does allow him, it's still nice.
"I won't be satisfied until I know everything about you, everything you'll let me know." Sometimes he can sneak things that Lucifer didn't intend to tell him, but he doesn't want to pick at scabs either. "You really did pick the wrong person if you wanted to remain a mystery."
The benefit, too, is that Lucifer will keep his word; he won't tap Istredd out again in this kind of scenario. Hopefully not at all, but he only made the one agreement.
Lucifer's said enough that no one can make him do anything, Istredd especially. Any bend and twist and break he makes to Istredd's hands are all by choice, liquid-movements giving in. He'll easily and languidly resettle, content.
"I picked the wrong person regardless when I let you into my head at all," he says, enjoying the feel of Istredd over top him. That should distance themselves from that first night, regardless to how far they've come, if only because their positions are flipped. "Even if you did know everything, you wouldn't be satisfied," he continues, amused. As though your thirst is ever quenchable.
Istredd accepted that he can't promise forever not to knock him out, there are scenarios where it might have to happen. And he'll probably be angry at the time, but as long as this promise is made, he's fine with it. He's too sensitive when it comes to their intimacy not to get his shackles up about it. But he trusts Lucifer. That first time was panic. He understands.
Looking down at him now, a warm smile curling at his lips, Istredd can only see the ways they've changed for the better. He pins Lucifer's hands down but only by tangling their fingers together first. Yes, I am eternally thirsty. Since he now knows the term he says it very dryly. Istredd chuckles and leans in to steal a kiss, squeezing their joined hands, only stopping when he needs to come up for air.
"Then again, did you actually pick me, or did I wear you down with constant emotional support and adoration until you gave in?"
today on things Lucifer says that would usually be offensive but aren't meant to be
"Yeaaaah, that's not what happened." He tilts his head, considering, careful. He's lax against the bed, pooled pleasure. "I truly mean no offense," and that's accurate throughout his thoughts, very loud and clear, "but you were a mistake." It sounds bad but it's really not! From anyone else it might be terrible. Dishonesty might be the better answer, but he isn't about that. "I didn't pick you and if you were wearing me down I wouldn't have given it, I would've left."
He hums, watching Istredd, squeezing back at their hands as Istredd had done, as though he's fearful that Istredd will take offense from the words and draw away.
"You got under my armor," he lulls. "A mouse stealthily sneaking in, making a nest, remaining unnoticed until the damage was already done." He shrugs which is awkward while laying down. "But far as mistakes go." Grins a little. "Worked out."
Luckily for Lucifer, Istredd knows him, so he laughs instead of getting offended. "You're great at the romantic gestures, you still need to work on the words." The sentiment is the same as any sweetness though. Istredd's a mistake because he took Lucifer by surprise and it was too late to stop it by the time it began. He's fine with that.
He squeezes Lucifer's hands again where he has them pinned, his thumb hooking to caress his knuckles, and kisses each cheek sweetly. "But I'm your favorite mistake." Lucifer doesn't admit to many mistakes anyway, since he doesn't regret much of what he's done, but Istredd's never asked him to. He is who he is. That's what people don't realize when they warn him about his partner. He might as well laugh in their face too. As if he doesn't know who is in his bed.
"It's not far from what I assumed would happen if you ever started to want me though. That it would be gradual and surprising." Istredd had that tiny bit of hope even as he lied because he wanted it so much to be true. "It would've been stranger if we tried to court the normal way."
He's cocky enough to argue that Istredd is his only mistake but it'd be a blatant lie. Perhaps Lucifer's only massive mistake. Ultimate Mistake?
Heh.
He's not telling Istredd that, keeping it tucked away in his own quiet amusement.
"You could've tried to court me whatever the 'normal way' is and it wouldn't have gotten you far."
Because Lucifer would be oblivious, same as before.
"My honesty is a charm of its own," he says, grin widening. "Why would I need flowery words?" His voice dips low. "Mmmm... poetry?" He claspes their hands tighter, tucks them under his head so that he can use them as an odd lever to push himself up just a fraction. He croons, "Ohhh... I know, maybe I should sing for you."
"Oh I tried the normal way on normal people." Istredd did 'date' people between Yennefer and Lucifer, none of them mages because too much drama, the majority of them fellow scholars. And it was all very nice. But hardly thrilling. "I wasn't going to try any of that on you."
There is something deeply infectious about Lucifer's grins and his cocky behavior in particular have a way of making Istredd weak for him. Istredd rolls his eyes, smirking back at him, allowing Lucifer to move their hands. He leans in close enough to kiss him but chooses not to, staying just out of reach.
"You said you possessed a bard's body. Surely you know a tune to serenade me with."
Lucifer's rudeness wins since Istredd is incredibly easy to seduce and he reacts against his will to the wriggling by catching his breath. The look he gives is amused and he releases Lucifer's hands, sliding his hands under Lucifer's shirt to dig his nails in and run intentionally sharp down his torso.
He knows how to get Lucifer back after all and closes some of the distance to bite at his lip before pulling back before he can get swayed into kissing him. Still just out of reach.
"Sing for me anyway. I'll make it worth your while."
It's a question, always, how much Lucifer is willing to play along. How much his curiosity pushes him. His constant interest and amusement is an awfully good motivator, certainly.
There's the consideration to really give Istredd a taste of Vince Vincente, but Lucifer hardly knows the lyrics to 'Bloody Messiah' outside of the name itself.
That amusement of his ticks up a notch. Leave it to Lucifer to do as requested but be just enough off that the defiance is there.
He pushes up as much as naturally allowed--constantly able to break any hold on him that Istredd could put him in, but where's the fun in that? His voice is low, a croon, almost haunting and off-key, "The devil went down to Georgia," but there's a melody there all the same as his grin stretches ear to ear, "he was lookin' for a soul to steal."
It's a game between them, an intimate flirtation, where Lucifer lets himself be pinned and held down knowing he can get out at any time. Any power Istredd has over him is given, and that is what makes it fun between them. Istredd presses his weight down onto Lucifer more forcefully when he pushes up, pushing him back, arching a playful eyebrow at him.
It also has the after effect of supplying a little friction which is always fun.
Istredd chuckles, having expected Lucifer to do something silly, and he wouldn't recognize any music from his sphere. It isn't a surprise there are songs about 'the devil' since everyone seems quite obsessed with Lucifer, in many spheres.
He lowers his head down to Lucifer's ear. "And?" He prompts, lifting one hand to dive into Lucifer's hair, forcing his head to tilt back so he can bite the skin right under his ear.
For him, in this kind of moment, this is silly, though the degree is lost to Istredd. "Maybe I should ask that bard for some of his works, since you were so enraptured with the thought of him singing," singing Istredd's favorites, of course. He's laughing though, no heat to the jab. Of that weird little group he actually likes Jaskier.
He stays put this time and sprawls his free hands (and arms) out around him. If he's going to be 'denied' he's not going to rise to the opportunity any touch.
Lucifer has a grand ol' library of songs to his name to rival God, and they're way more popular. So much more in the limelight since devil is less restricted to religion as God is. The rebellious anthems and the dark side and the downright evil. He's got 'em all!
Can't completely diss the classics, even if 'Lucifer' technically loses in this song. Eh. (He won the last time there was talk of a fiddle of gold against a soul, isn't that right, Sammy?)
But. Excuse him. He's a little distracted. You're welcome, asshole, it takes him a minute to pick up the line of song he had chosen to delve into. A sin in its own right, going about the rhythm so slow. But Lucifer doesn't have a fiddle, anyway.
He shifts his head to give Istredd better access, though a part of him wonders if Istredd will see the offer and pull away, the devious bastard.
He puffs out a breath. Licks his lips, slow. Eyes bright. So kindly doesn't move. "He was in a bind 'cause he was way behind. And he was willin' to make a deal," he purrs. Chuckles, pushes the out-of-place tune through their minds, "Now you play a pretty good fiddle, boy, but give the devil his due." His chuckles chimes between them and he slips lower beneath Istredd with what little movement he is able to manage, "I'll bet a fiddle of gold against your soul, 'cause I think I'm better than you."
"That would be very, very appealing to me." Istredd does like that song and now he's met Jaskier in person and he understands well how he has both Yennefer and Geralt in his pocket. If Istredd wasn't happily in love and satisfied with his currently irresistible partner, he probably would have been easily seduced by the man. He has a feeling that is common for Jaskier.
It would be strange to hear Lucifer speak Her Sweet Kiss because it's not really easy for a gender swap. But Istredd would probably be into it regardless.
Pulling away from the offer is exactly what Istredd does when Lucifer physically invites it, knowing it's an instigation. He likes getting a reaction out of Lucifer, taunting him sometimes to see how much more of one he can get. If Lucifer will lose patience. Istredd continues to provoke him that way as he now moves his mouth so that it's almost touching Lucifer's skin, his warm breath felt and the curve of his smile.
"I have never played a fiddle in my life." Istredd's tone is droll, as they're both simply joking around the song. Just speaking caresses his lips against Lucifer's neck but no more than that. He puts his hands on either side of Lucifer's head and pushes up, equally moving his body just out of reach. His weight, his heat, pulling temptingly within reach but not on him.
This is karma for his anticipation jab when he took off after leaving the book in the first place.
He didn't think it'd come back at him like this.
He maybe should have but for being the so-called embodiment of sin it doesn't so naturally come to him as most would assume.
But he's of the belief he can remain in control of himself for longer than Istredd. He could be enticed to give in. He thinks the reward would outweigh anything else.
"Oh, in many ways," he hums. "But not all. Isn't that the point?" They discuss the 'point' of things, of people, far too often. "A balanced scale, between the two of us?" He bites his lip and smiles.
It is definitely karma. As if this was going to go anywhere other than seduction, considering the sentimentality that is an immediate turn on. It's a miracle Istredd didn't push him against the door the moment he walked in, tempted as he always is. He probably won't last longer, Istredd is the thirsty one, but it's fun to test the boundaries and see if he can trap Lucifer in desire too.
"I think we should test out my fortification spell." Istredd partially sits up, away from Lucifer's tempting body, but only so he can pull his shirt off and toss it to the side. Luckily in their every day life they aren't as sewn into tight clothing. Istredd favors spacious shirts, often a little bit of a v-cut.
Istredd said he was going to work on a physical fortification spell for the intention of making himself harder to break. Lucifer's strength is immeasurable and he has to be careful with his soft human lover. Neither of them want Lucifer to hold back. It will probably take more than one test to get the perfect outcome.
Why would he expect this! He just did something nice! So what if Lucifer rarely dips into sentimentality! So what if his partner is reciprocal--more often then not!
He's just. Not accustomed to things. Coming back 'round to him in a positive light. Negative? Oh, that's burned into his true form's bones. Positivity is new. Very new.
(Unfortunately for Istredd, while Lucifer doesn't wear tight clothing on a normal basis, he does wear a lot of clothing. His two-tunic scenario being his usual, the under tunic having a suicide bomber's level of enchanted butterfly pins--thankfully the few that are attached to spells are defensive-based and require a spoken word for activation.
Lucifer has yet to go into offensive-based lightning and even then it wouldn't be attached to a pin.)
If he wants him. Well. There's the real joke. More than any devilish music Lucifer could recite.
But sometimes. Sometimes, Lucifer lives up to his name, his established-identity. He's slack against the bed, looking crookedly up at Istredd, and intones, "Please," with enough meaning that it rolls along the bond.
They are very rarely negative. Their relationship is built on acceptance and respect. That means everything they do and say to one another is steeped in positive energy, in the strength they have. No matter how many ups and downs they've gone through, they come through it unbreakable. Istredd knows how Lucifer feels, he can sense how he feels, but he he still feeds on it.
There was a time both of them thought it was possible Lucifer wouldn't want him this way. He was still new to it and the feelings it provoked. Now he may as well be radiating desire and it is a heady feeling to soak in. That is the only thing Istredd would accept. Nothing lukewarm. Only bright like this.
He loses the game the moment Lucifer says that word and the play drops out of him as something drops in his stomach at the time, butterflies fluttering, and he licks his suddenly dry lips. Istredd hurries to say the spell with the precision of someone good at this now, and he has been testing it out on his own. Lucifer can probably tell the difference right away as the power drops over Istredd and he'll find his body is cushioned, his skin impossible to rip to shreds, glowing with the type of strength that only a very good enchantment could pull off.
Istredd wastes no time after that to swoop down and kiss the sense out of both of them, dropping his body back down on top of Lucifer, forcefully rocking his body against him now. The please is something he is unlikely to forget, maybe even fantasize occasionally on his own about.
Istredd only pulls out of the kiss when he's probably going to see stars from lack of breathing, taking those precious seconds before he gets starving again to pull Lucifer up with him with a sharp tug. "Take your damn clothes off or I'll rip them off." He is being his pushy self by curling his fingers into Lucifer's tunic and hurriedly scrambling it toward his head to try and get it off.
(He fully understands that his victory will not last long, but the brief thrill of satisfaction that one word earns him in this moment is well-worth it on its own.)
The new feel from the magic has Lucifer's attention sharpened. He knows they talked about it, knows Istredd is determined when he sets his mind to something, but it's intriguing nonetheless to sense the efforts made for--well, them. He's better prepared himself, to an extent. He remembers at least after the fact what the trickled-looseness of his power unchecked felt like.
There's other risks for why the spell is necessary. The physical, unyielding strength of an archangel that has little to do with his grace tank.
He chases Istredd's bruised lips but allows him to continue breathing for the moment.
He does like these particular clothes and yet they are easier to come by than their party outfits. His tunics aren't fancy, easy to replace just as the rest of his clothing. They could maybe afford the butterfly pins getting scattered...
But in a contradictory motion he claps a hand tight around Istredd's hold on him, unyielding. His gaze is intense when he uses his other hand to very carefully pluck that one specific, known pin off from where its hidden away near his collarbone, kisses it simply, and places it safely down on a table space somewhere behind him.
"By all means, Istredd," he says, releasing his grip on Istredd's hand, his tone a challenging trill, "rip them off."
Istredd wants Lucifer to feel safe being physical with him and while they've enjoyed plenty of passion with some care taken to not breaking him, he will never be fully satisfied until Lucifer's able to let go. He may never 100% be able to, considering his power, but physically at least he can push and push to his heart's content.
The night at Hayle when they were hurriedly getting out of their clothes, Istredd did consider ripping their clothes right off, but they decided to be careful considering Natasha picked out his clothes. They don't have to worry about that now. He knows that Lucifer has the pins underneath but that they are voice-commanded because they talk about magic.
Lucifer just has to do something extra sentimental by picking out Istredd's pin and kissing it, and Istredd is going to drown in desire. His lust is pouring through their connection and the spike in it felt. He is out of his mind with it. "I have never wanted anyone the way I want you." The way he wants to dig into his skin with his nails, his teeth, let Lucifer try to break him.
He doesn't need magic to rip the tunic right off Lucifer, he's plenty strong on his own, muscular these days thanks to Lucifer's own consistent training. He splits the first down the middle of his torso and tugs it off. Istredd considers being careful with the pins but that's not the point of this, if Lucifer wanted to do that, he would have taken them all off.
So he is very purposeful when he tears open that tunic because it is meant to send those pins flying off him, like buttons would if he was wearing that kind of shirt. They flip in different directions, most to the ground, and he grins, eyes so blue they may as well glow.
It is thrilling to get to his prize and his hands are hot as they run over Lucifer's chest, digging nails into his shoulders, and this time Lucifer can probably feel them even sharper than usual. Fortification spell means he's tougher and he may even be able to draw blood if given good reason.
"Tell me how much." Istredd runs his fingers through Lucifer's hair and jerks back his head again, this time doing what he wants and kissing his neck, nipping. "You want me."
Well that's a fun, unexpected treat that he didn't predict from Istredd's spell. Truly delightful, to the point that he doesn't have to be talked further into Istredd's continual need for validation.
He genuinely wants this man.
Istredd's only immediate response is the breathlessness from him, enjoying the roughness, the loud-and-clear tactile touches. I know you can feel it. Which isn't meant to sound the way it does, but what can you do. His thoughts are as lazily sprawled as the rest of him, vibrating chords in response to Istredd's actions like he's the first true musical instrument of the cosmos. Acquired desire from the depths of Hell is no joke. And it's rolling in easy waves towards Istredd. Unfiltered sin.
Outside of clapping to hold Istredd by the wrist he's gone back to not touching him, ever experimental in his own ways, intrigued at how far being pliant will get him, and he can get a lot of mileage without using his hands.
But then Istredd said he'd make it worth his while, didn't he? Although Lucifer has stopped singing, so he supposes that might need to be remedied.
Lucifer feeds him validation night and day, hourly, by the minute, and he's greedy so doesn't stop eating it up. His self-esteem has never been higher than being the man who made an archangel fall for him. The most arrogant he can be is here in this bed with Lucifer breathless underneath him. He can feel all of it, yes, but he demands the words because they're a very nice companion to powerful need growing between them.
So lazy, he teases, with Lucifer sprawling like a content spoiled cat, letting himself be loved and worshipped. Istredd pulls his hand away from Lucifer because they're not naked and he has to make that happen. He slides down the bed, away from the rest of Lucifer which is always a shame, but he makes very short work of Lucifer's pants. He makes certain to undo them before any ripping happens, so as not to tug anything in the wrong way.
He takes the time to strip off Lucifer's shoes, playful as he kisses the sole of his foot while doing so, almost happy to slow down now that he has the man bare in front of him. Istredd keeps the rest of his own clothes on for now. Istredd presses a kiss to his clavicle, down his chest, to his stomach, his mouth making a very clear pathway, but just as before, when it seems like he's going to give Lucifer what he wants, he stops.
His warm breath gives him some anticipation of a touch that isn't coming unless Lucifer gives in and reaches for it, and he glances up at Lucifer from where he is. I wonder. Istredd trails a single finger over him, tracing the hard flesh with a tease. If I told you to fuck me, would you lie there and let me do all the work?
mildly important / I'm sorry world for what I keep doing to this CLASSIC song
'Let' you do all the work? He laughs smoothly. You'd be allowed to do all the work.
He needs the worship, basks in it like he's sunbathing. About the only way he might get it without being turned off by the usual fanaticism, always just off slightly to what Lucifer craves. To think he could've accidentally seduced someone and filled a fix for his needs.
(It wouldn't have worked, back home. It would always have that sour taste of him and what his name represented.)
There is a certain appeal to it, now that you mention it. To make Istredd have to take what he needed from Lucifer, to give Lucifer what they both wanted. It's so achingly strong and maybe some other time he'll want that.
But not this time.
He closes his eyes for a moment and just lounges in the warmth, letting the moments tick on like he won't reach out, but just before Istredd might consider making a different touch, a different word, Lucifer shifts strangely enough--those feline moves--so that he can get a hand up under his chin, that playful grin of his back, and his singing up til now has been purposefully wrong, but he puts real effort into it (Istredd doesn't have to know he's been skipping lyrics): "But I'll take your bet, you're gonna regret, 'cause I'm the best there's ever been."
Because he keeps challenging Istredd and it hasn't failed him yet, mm?
Wow, lucky me, he laughs too. His breath felt in a little puff by Lucifer's skin, but Lucifer can feel that he's not being sarcastic. He can actually see the appeal. He is very good at getting what he wants with Lucifer, eventually. He's wormed his way into his life, into his heart, into his bed. He takes what he wants from him every day. Affection and friendship and Lucifer's own brand of adoration, different from his. Istredd takes and takes and never stops wanting it all.
Istredd pauses when Lucifer reaches down to touch his chin, his eyes locked on Lucifer's face, his grin. He's said before that it is the details that are Lucifer he's attracted to. The way he grins, croons, lies out like a cat demanding attention, it's all him. It's what makes this body appealing; Istredd is surrounded by attractive people all day every day. None of them do it for him. He has a very specific taste.
"The best there's ever been? At fiddling, maybe."
Istredd can be fast and graceful too sometimes, when he's in his element, and usually between these sheets, he is. He climbs back up Lucifer's body, more snakelike than feline in that movement, and nuzzles their noses together. His kiss then is gentle, chaste, a contrast to everything else they're doing.
"Why don't you sing me a verse about what you do want?"
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Istredd's the bad one in public. Lucifer's better at not giving into it there, Istredd has a tendency to still want to touch him. Hand holding, the occasional kiss on the cheek. It's difficult not to.
"Yes, I mean all of them. All of you." There is nothing about him Istredd hasn't been able to accept. He may not love hearing about the dark parts, but they're Lucifer. "But I liked the flying the most." Not only because it has no violence involved, but because it was beautiful. Freeing. His love has experienced endless unique things that he can only dream of.
He sits up closer so he can kiss him. Eighty or ninety years later and my life is finally interesting. Being here is interesting! And insane! He leans back onto his hands, breaking the kiss, head tipped back to look at Lucifer. "I plan on climbing all those mountain ranges."
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(He knows Istredd is. That's not the point.)
At least Istredd will always know he's safe and securing in an unbreakable hold of Lucifer's arms. That odd reassurance. But they would, evidently, have a problem in public from Lucifer's end if, say, Istredd was covered in blood. Not even the queen would likely keep Lucifer cautious.
... Well.
Okay.
Maybe the queen.
"Enjoy your fool's-end expedition," he says, and he's sure that's what people said about Everest and yet have had many succeed at climbing it (and coming back alive). The flying part may be the only untainted part of him. He doesn't, by some miracle, doubt Istredd's own expedition despite his spoken words.
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If Istredd was covered in blood, he would be smart enough to immediately excuse them somewhere else. If he had to give a report of some kind as to why, he would do it quickly, and then run off. He knows what he's about now. As strange as that 'about' may be.
Istredd grips Lucifer at the hips and turns them, placing Lucifer onto the bed if he allows it. He's graceful at it these days, but it does remind him sometimes of their first hook up. They're far enough from the drama for him to see it only in positive happy ways. He follows onto him and smiles, hands clasping Lucifer's and pressing them down against the bed.
All smokescreen, of course, Lucifer is so much stronger than him that it's hilarious. Anything he does physically is only what he allows him. But when he does allow him, it's still nice.
"I won't be satisfied until I know everything about you, everything you'll let me know." Sometimes he can sneak things that Lucifer didn't intend to tell him, but he doesn't want to pick at scabs either. "You really did pick the wrong person if you wanted to remain a mystery."
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Lucifer's said enough that no one can make him do anything, Istredd especially. Any bend and twist and break he makes to Istredd's hands are all by choice, liquid-movements giving in. He'll easily and languidly resettle, content.
"I picked the wrong person regardless when I let you into my head at all," he says, enjoying the feel of Istredd over top him. That should distance themselves from that first night, regardless to how far they've come, if only because their positions are flipped. "Even if you did know everything, you wouldn't be satisfied," he continues, amused. As though your thirst is ever quenchable.
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Looking down at him now, a warm smile curling at his lips, Istredd can only see the ways they've changed for the better. He pins Lucifer's hands down but only by tangling their fingers together first. Yes, I am eternally thirsty. Since he now knows the term he says it very dryly. Istredd chuckles and leans in to steal a kiss, squeezing their joined hands, only stopping when he needs to come up for air.
"Then again, did you actually pick me, or did I wear you down with constant emotional support and adoration until you gave in?"
today on things Lucifer says that would usually be offensive but aren't meant to be
He hums, watching Istredd, squeezing back at their hands as Istredd had done, as though he's fearful that Istredd will take offense from the words and draw away.
"You got under my armor," he lulls. "A mouse stealthily sneaking in, making a nest, remaining unnoticed until the damage was already done." He shrugs which is awkward while laying down. "But far as mistakes go." Grins a little. "Worked out."
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He squeezes Lucifer's hands again where he has them pinned, his thumb hooking to caress his knuckles, and kisses each cheek sweetly. "But I'm your favorite mistake." Lucifer doesn't admit to many mistakes anyway, since he doesn't regret much of what he's done, but Istredd's never asked him to. He is who he is. That's what people don't realize when they warn him about his partner. He might as well laugh in their face too. As if he doesn't know who is in his bed.
"It's not far from what I assumed would happen if you ever started to want me though. That it would be gradual and surprising." Istredd had that tiny bit of hope even as he lied because he wanted it so much to be true. "It would've been stranger if we tried to court the normal way."
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Heh.
He's not telling Istredd that, keeping it tucked away in his own quiet amusement.
"You could've tried to court me whatever the 'normal way' is and it wouldn't have gotten you far."
Because Lucifer would be oblivious, same as before.
"My honesty is a charm of its own," he says, grin widening. "Why would I need flowery words?" His voice dips low. "Mmmm... poetry?" He claspes their hands tighter, tucks them under his head so that he can use them as an odd lever to push himself up just a fraction. He croons, "Ohhh... I know, maybe I should sing for you."
They are SHAMELESS
There is something deeply infectious about Lucifer's grins and his cocky behavior in particular have a way of making Istredd weak for him. Istredd rolls his eyes, smirking back at him, allowing Lucifer to move their hands. He leans in close enough to kiss him but chooses not to, staying just out of reach.
"You said you possessed a bard's body. Surely you know a tune to serenade me with."
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He smirks, despite Istredd's rudeness.
He wriggles his hips, equally rude.
"You'd be sorely disappointed. I didn't spend any time learning any of their music--if you could call their genre talent."
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He knows how to get Lucifer back after all and closes some of the distance to bite at his lip before pulling back before he can get swayed into kissing him. Still just out of reach.
"Sing for me anyway. I'll make it worth your while."
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It's a question, always, how much Lucifer is willing to play along. How much his curiosity pushes him. His constant interest and amusement is an awfully good motivator, certainly.
There's the consideration to really give Istredd a taste of Vince Vincente, but Lucifer hardly knows the lyrics to 'Bloody Messiah' outside of the name itself.
That amusement of his ticks up a notch. Leave it to Lucifer to do as requested but be just enough off that the defiance is there.
He pushes up as much as naturally allowed--constantly able to break any hold on him that Istredd could put him in, but where's the fun in that? His voice is low, a croon, almost haunting and off-key, "The devil went down to Georgia," but there's a melody there all the same as his grin stretches ear to ear, "he was lookin' for a soul to steal."
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It also has the after effect of supplying a little friction which is always fun.
Istredd chuckles, having expected Lucifer to do something silly, and he wouldn't recognize any music from his sphere. It isn't a surprise there are songs about 'the devil' since everyone seems quite obsessed with Lucifer, in many spheres.
He lowers his head down to Lucifer's ear. "And?" He prompts, lifting one hand to dive into Lucifer's hair, forcing his head to tilt back so he can bite the skin right under his ear.
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He stays put this time and sprawls his free hands (and arms) out around him. If he's going to be 'denied' he's not going to rise to the opportunity any touch.
Lucifer has a grand ol' library of songs to his name to rival God, and they're way more popular. So much more in the limelight since devil is less restricted to religion as God is. The rebellious anthems and the dark side and the downright evil. He's got 'em all!
Can't completely diss the classics, even if 'Lucifer' technically loses in this song. Eh. (He won the last time there was talk of a fiddle of gold against a soul, isn't that right, Sammy?)
But. Excuse him. He's a little distracted. You're welcome, asshole, it takes him a minute to pick up the line of song he had chosen to delve into. A sin in its own right, going about the rhythm so slow. But Lucifer doesn't have a fiddle, anyway.
He shifts his head to give Istredd better access, though a part of him wonders if Istredd will see the offer and pull away, the devious bastard.
He puffs out a breath. Licks his lips, slow. Eyes bright. So kindly doesn't move. "He was in a bind 'cause he was way behind. And he was willin' to make a deal," he purrs. Chuckles, pushes the out-of-place tune through their minds, "Now you play a pretty good fiddle, boy, but give the devil his due." His chuckles chimes between them and he slips lower beneath Istredd with what little movement he is able to manage, "I'll bet a fiddle of gold against your soul, 'cause I think I'm better than you."
You see the joke now, Istredd?
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It would be strange to hear Lucifer speak Her Sweet Kiss because it's not really easy for a gender swap. But Istredd would probably be into it regardless.
Pulling away from the offer is exactly what Istredd does when Lucifer physically invites it, knowing it's an instigation. He likes getting a reaction out of Lucifer, taunting him sometimes to see how much more of one he can get. If Lucifer will lose patience. Istredd continues to provoke him that way as he now moves his mouth so that it's almost touching Lucifer's skin, his warm breath felt and the curve of his smile.
"I have never played a fiddle in my life." Istredd's tone is droll, as they're both simply joking around the song. Just speaking caresses his lips against Lucifer's neck but no more than that. He puts his hands on either side of Lucifer's head and pushes up, equally moving his body just out of reach. His weight, his heat, pulling temptingly within reach but not on him.
"Do you think you're better than me, my love?"
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He didn't think it'd come back at him like this.
He maybe should have but for being the so-called embodiment of sin it doesn't so naturally come to him as most would assume.
But he's of the belief he can remain in control of himself for longer than Istredd. He could be enticed to give in. He thinks the reward would outweigh anything else.
"Oh, in many ways," he hums. "But not all. Isn't that the point?" They discuss the 'point' of things, of people, far too often. "A balanced scale, between the two of us?" He bites his lip and smiles.
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"I think we should test out my fortification spell." Istredd partially sits up, away from Lucifer's tempting body, but only so he can pull his shirt off and toss it to the side. Luckily in their every day life they aren't as sewn into tight clothing. Istredd favors spacious shirts, often a little bit of a v-cut.
Istredd said he was going to work on a physical fortification spell for the intention of making himself harder to break. Lucifer's strength is immeasurable and he has to be careful with his soft human lover. Neither of them want Lucifer to hold back. It will probably take more than one test to get the perfect outcome.
"If you want me."
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He's just. Not accustomed to things. Coming back 'round to him in a positive light. Negative? Oh, that's burned into his true form's bones. Positivity is new. Very new.
(Unfortunately for Istredd, while Lucifer doesn't wear tight clothing on a normal basis, he does wear a lot of clothing. His two-tunic scenario being his usual, the under tunic having a suicide bomber's level of enchanted butterfly pins--thankfully the few that are attached to spells are defensive-based and require a spoken word for activation.
Lucifer has yet to go into offensive-based lightning and even then it wouldn't be attached to a pin.)
If he wants him. Well. There's the real joke. More than any devilish music Lucifer could recite.
But sometimes. Sometimes, Lucifer lives up to his name, his established-identity. He's slack against the bed, looking crookedly up at Istredd, and intones, "Please," with enough meaning that it rolls along the bond.
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There was a time both of them thought it was possible Lucifer wouldn't want him this way. He was still new to it and the feelings it provoked. Now he may as well be radiating desire and it is a heady feeling to soak in. That is the only thing Istredd would accept. Nothing lukewarm. Only bright like this.
He loses the game the moment Lucifer says that word and the play drops out of him as something drops in his stomach at the time, butterflies fluttering, and he licks his suddenly dry lips. Istredd hurries to say the spell with the precision of someone good at this now, and he has been testing it out on his own. Lucifer can probably tell the difference right away as the power drops over Istredd and he'll find his body is cushioned, his skin impossible to rip to shreds, glowing with the type of strength that only a very good enchantment could pull off.
Istredd wastes no time after that to swoop down and kiss the sense out of both of them, dropping his body back down on top of Lucifer, forcefully rocking his body against him now. The please is something he is unlikely to forget, maybe even fantasize occasionally on his own about.
Istredd only pulls out of the kiss when he's probably going to see stars from lack of breathing, taking those precious seconds before he gets starving again to pull Lucifer up with him with a sharp tug. "Take your damn clothes off or I'll rip them off." He is being his pushy self by curling his fingers into Lucifer's tunic and hurriedly scrambling it toward his head to try and get it off.
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How to rig it in his favor.
(He fully understands that his victory will not last long, but the brief thrill of satisfaction that one word earns him in this moment is well-worth it on its own.)
The new feel from the magic has Lucifer's attention sharpened. He knows they talked about it, knows Istredd is determined when he sets his mind to something, but it's intriguing nonetheless to sense the efforts made for--well, them. He's better prepared himself, to an extent. He remembers at least after the fact what the trickled-looseness of his power unchecked felt like.
There's other risks for why the spell is necessary. The physical, unyielding strength of an archangel that has little to do with his grace tank.
He chases Istredd's bruised lips but allows him to continue breathing for the moment.
He does like these particular clothes and yet they are easier to come by than their party outfits. His tunics aren't fancy, easy to replace just as the rest of his clothing. They could maybe afford the butterfly pins getting scattered...
But in a contradictory motion he claps a hand tight around Istredd's hold on him, unyielding. His gaze is intense when he uses his other hand to very carefully pluck that one specific, known pin off from where its hidden away near his collarbone, kisses it simply, and places it safely down on a table space somewhere behind him.
"By all means, Istredd," he says, releasing his grip on Istredd's hand, his tone a challenging trill, "rip them off."
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The night at Hayle when they were hurriedly getting out of their clothes, Istredd did consider ripping their clothes right off, but they decided to be careful considering Natasha picked out his clothes. They don't have to worry about that now. He knows that Lucifer has the pins underneath but that they are voice-commanded because they talk about magic.
Lucifer just has to do something extra sentimental by picking out Istredd's pin and kissing it, and Istredd is going to drown in desire. His lust is pouring through their connection and the spike in it felt. He is out of his mind with it. "I have never wanted anyone the way I want you." The way he wants to dig into his skin with his nails, his teeth, let Lucifer try to break him.
He doesn't need magic to rip the tunic right off Lucifer, he's plenty strong on his own, muscular these days thanks to Lucifer's own consistent training. He splits the first down the middle of his torso and tugs it off. Istredd considers being careful with the pins but that's not the point of this, if Lucifer wanted to do that, he would have taken them all off.
So he is very purposeful when he tears open that tunic because it is meant to send those pins flying off him, like buttons would if he was wearing that kind of shirt. They flip in different directions, most to the ground, and he grins, eyes so blue they may as well glow.
It is thrilling to get to his prize and his hands are hot as they run over Lucifer's chest, digging nails into his shoulders, and this time Lucifer can probably feel them even sharper than usual. Fortification spell means he's tougher and he may even be able to draw blood if given good reason.
"Tell me how much." Istredd runs his fingers through Lucifer's hair and jerks back his head again, this time doing what he wants and kissing his neck, nipping. "You want me."
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He genuinely wants this man.
Istredd's only immediate response is the breathlessness from him, enjoying the roughness, the loud-and-clear tactile touches. I know you can feel it. Which isn't meant to sound the way it does, but what can you do. His thoughts are as lazily sprawled as the rest of him, vibrating chords in response to Istredd's actions like he's the first true musical instrument of the cosmos. Acquired desire from the depths of Hell is no joke. And it's rolling in easy waves towards Istredd. Unfiltered sin.
Outside of clapping to hold Istredd by the wrist he's gone back to not touching him, ever experimental in his own ways, intrigued at how far being pliant will get him, and he can get a lot of mileage without using his hands.
But then Istredd said he'd make it worth his while, didn't he? Although Lucifer has stopped singing, so he supposes that might need to be remedied.
remembering now to say NSFW
So lazy, he teases, with Lucifer sprawling like a content spoiled cat, letting himself be loved and worshipped. Istredd pulls his hand away from Lucifer because they're not naked and he has to make that happen. He slides down the bed, away from the rest of Lucifer which is always a shame, but he makes very short work of Lucifer's pants. He makes certain to undo them before any ripping happens, so as not to tug anything in the wrong way.
He takes the time to strip off Lucifer's shoes, playful as he kisses the sole of his foot while doing so, almost happy to slow down now that he has the man bare in front of him. Istredd keeps the rest of his own clothes on for now. Istredd presses a kiss to his clavicle, down his chest, to his stomach, his mouth making a very clear pathway, but just as before, when it seems like he's going to give Lucifer what he wants, he stops.
His warm breath gives him some anticipation of a touch that isn't coming unless Lucifer gives in and reaches for it, and he glances up at Lucifer from where he is. I wonder. Istredd trails a single finger over him, tracing the hard flesh with a tease. If I told you to fuck me, would you lie there and let me do all the work?
mildly important / I'm sorry world for what I keep doing to this CLASSIC song
He needs the worship, basks in it like he's sunbathing. About the only way he might get it without being turned off by the usual fanaticism, always just off slightly to what Lucifer craves. To think he could've accidentally seduced someone and filled a fix for his needs.
(It wouldn't have worked, back home. It would always have that sour taste of him and what his name represented.)
There is a certain appeal to it, now that you mention it. To make Istredd have to take what he needed from Lucifer, to give Lucifer what they both wanted. It's so achingly strong and maybe some other time he'll want that.
But not this time.
He closes his eyes for a moment and just lounges in the warmth, letting the moments tick on like he won't reach out, but just before Istredd might consider making a different touch, a different word, Lucifer shifts strangely enough--those feline moves--so that he can get a hand up under his chin, that playful grin of his back, and his singing up til now has been purposefully wrong, but he puts real effort into it (Istredd doesn't have to know he's been skipping lyrics): "But I'll take your bet, you're gonna regret, 'cause I'm the best there's ever been."
Because he keeps challenging Istredd and it hasn't failed him yet, mm?
LOL
Istredd pauses when Lucifer reaches down to touch his chin, his eyes locked on Lucifer's face, his grin. He's said before that it is the details that are Lucifer he's attracted to. The way he grins, croons, lies out like a cat demanding attention, it's all him. It's what makes this body appealing; Istredd is surrounded by attractive people all day every day. None of them do it for him. He has a very specific taste.
"The best there's ever been? At fiddling, maybe."
Istredd can be fast and graceful too sometimes, when he's in his element, and usually between these sheets, he is. He climbs back up Lucifer's body, more snakelike than feline in that movement, and nuzzles their noses together. His kiss then is gentle, chaste, a contrast to everything else they're doing.
"Why don't you sing me a verse about what you do want?"
my last apology, world
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