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?"
What does he want? Oh, he wants the world. But knowing its on the horizon he can draw out his own anticipation, his own desire at wit's end. He's so accustomed to not getting what he wants that with Opportunity spelled out for him he can be that dangerous gremlin Istredd both knows to expect and yearns for.
Right? he jests, I'm so charitable.
"Fiddlin' is about fast fingers," he explains, amusement so incandescent between them that it's a beacon on a ship at night in its own right. His laughter hasn't really faded away. It comes and goes, oscillates. Istredd may be the best between the sheets but Lucifer has tricks. Ones that Istredd is still learning. Ones that Lucifer is still discovering, building on what he absorbs.
Lucifer should have to switch songs but that bubbling feel across the bond is going stronger than ever.
"The devil opened up his case and he said, 'I'll start this show'," he arches into Istredd, echoing that forceful energy previously of Istredd's and immediately loses his complete no-touching game, his fingertips uncharacteristically hot, "and fire flew from his fingertips as he rosined up his bow," as they catch somewhere to Istredd's hip and push down low beneath clothing, searching, caressing. Lucifer licks his lips. The laughter mentally upticks. And he pulled the bow across the strings. And ah, there's where his hand wants to settle. "And it made an evil hiss." He nips at Istredd but only to click teeth, not making contact as much as Lucifer really does enjoy a flowing of blood. "Then a band of demons joined in," and it sounded something like this.
He kisses Istredd in the same moment his thoughts sing and he wraps his hand around him.
One of Istredd's ongoing favorite things about their relationship is how much they laugh. It is something that has been missing in every relationship for him, romantic or platonic. It's rare to see Istredd laugh with their other friends. Not impossible, he does sometimes, and he smiles ten times more now than he used to. Lucifer is the only person who really gets him this amused and light at heart. There is this warm playfulness between them that is only possible when the foundation is like before love.
The best part about being Lucifer's first, outside of how intensely smug it makes him, is he gets to watch him learn about himself in real time. And despite having been sexually active for over sixty years, Istredd's still learning about his tastes.
Istredd doesn't know the song but he can tell a half-second before Lucifer arches into him that he is about to get some karma back. The lack of touch until now works well at making it special when he does finally run his surprisingly warm fingers onto him. Istredd shivers and licks Lucifer's lips for him since they're close. There are goosebumps across his skin everywhere that Lucifer caresses.
He doesn't know for a moment if Lucifer is going to do what he did and taunt so he groans in both relief and pleasure into Lucifer's mouth when his hand moves exactly where he wants it to be. Istredd reaches out with his hand, not having to look as he opens a drawer and telekinetically snapping to him a bottle of oil he got intentionally. They're two men who have to be smart. He sets it down.
He gets a deep taste of Lucifer by exploring his mouth and rocks his hips hopefully into his grasp, never passive. Please keep touching me. No shame. Please please please.
He could make a feast out of Istredd's thoughts, Istredd's desires, Istredd's unrelenting begging.
It's the thrill backing it, that Lucifer has the ability to sate this unrelenting lust, that amps him up in a way that's another kind of torture but so very different. That Lucifer can give instead of take and still get the same amount of pooling warm heat and desire and results. He sucks on Istredd's bottom lip and pulls his desire into him, the benefit of their mental boundaries being currently strong. Themselves, loud and powerful and something other where they do meet with mental friction.
The experience alone Lucifer snacks on, takes bits into himself like a corvid stashing pieces away.
Desire is as alien to Lucifer as love but he's understanding it much, much faster.
He doesn't stop touching Istredd.
Doesn't stop giving into his wants because this Lucifer has control over, for the time being, and if he were to lose that control it only means good things, right? He wants to trust in Istredd's spell, the warding over the room. He's done with his singing though, Istredd would have to beg on a different level entirely for Lucifer to raise his chords. But he doubts he'll need to, free hand finding the oil and dexterously fumbling with it.
They've already discussed his limited knowledge but some things simply translate 1:1 that he understands the logistics and in spite of his Father does he want to fuck Istredd. Break the man down to fractions.
"I don't need a gift," he starts aloud, and finishes with vibrations echoed over their bond, if I can just unwrap you as he presses purposely now-cooled fingers into Istredd. His eyes never leave Istredd's face, soaking in the changes of expression, the slipped-escaped breaths.
Istredd knew Lucifer had this in him before it was confirmed, there is this passion inside of him that had to be leashed in Thorne, and he knows he hated it, feeling confined. He can't free either of them but they can find freedom in what they've built together. Every second of this is theirs, every kiss, every touch, it's what they've taken. Lucifer deserves this. Istredd wants him to soak in the adoration, know he's wanted and loved and special, like he's always wanted to be. He's been locked away from anything soft all that time. Istredd will be everything he never was allowed to ask for.
He has no qualms about begging, no hesitation about laying himself emotionally bare for someone he trusts. Istredd moans and for a moment he doesn't have the strength to stay upright, leaning down into him, helplessly pushing into Lucifer's grip, his touch. This isn't the best way but damned if he'll stop it. Not when Lucifer is trying and eager to give what they both need. And fuck, does he need this. Longed for it, dreamed of it.
Are you saying I'm your gift? he teases and then gasps, scrambling to put his hands on Lucifer's chest to keep himself balanced. His expression is one of pale pleasure, opening for him, wanting it. So eager. He is too busy sinking into the way it feels to try anything like pulling away, even to get rid of the pants that are going to get in the way of this.
Hell knowledge is already good enough apparently. Istredd likes a little sting, and with his body fortified as it is, he can take plenty of it.
"Unwrap me. Unravel me." Istredd meets his eyes, locks. "Fuck me until you're the only thing that exists."
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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
Right? he jests, I'm so charitable.
"Fiddlin' is about fast fingers," he explains, amusement so incandescent between them that it's a beacon on a ship at night in its own right. His laughter hasn't really faded away. It comes and goes, oscillates. Istredd may be the best between the sheets but Lucifer has tricks. Ones that Istredd is still learning. Ones that Lucifer is still discovering, building on what he absorbs.
Lucifer should have to switch songs but that bubbling feel across the bond is going stronger than ever.
"The devil opened up his case and he said, 'I'll start this show'," he arches into Istredd, echoing that forceful energy previously of Istredd's and immediately loses his complete no-touching game, his fingertips uncharacteristically hot, "and fire flew from his fingertips as he rosined up his bow," as they catch somewhere to Istredd's hip and push down low beneath clothing, searching, caressing. Lucifer licks his lips. The laughter mentally upticks. And he pulled the bow across the strings. And ah, there's where his hand wants to settle. "And it made an evil hiss." He nips at Istredd but only to click teeth, not making contact as much as Lucifer really does enjoy a flowing of blood. "Then a band of demons joined in," and it sounded something like this.
He kisses Istredd in the same moment his thoughts sing and he wraps his hand around him.
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The best part about being Lucifer's first, outside of how intensely smug it makes him, is he gets to watch him learn about himself in real time. And despite having been sexually active for over sixty years, Istredd's still learning about his tastes.
Istredd doesn't know the song but he can tell a half-second before Lucifer arches into him that he is about to get some karma back. The lack of touch until now works well at making it special when he does finally run his surprisingly warm fingers onto him. Istredd shivers and licks Lucifer's lips for him since they're close. There are goosebumps across his skin everywhere that Lucifer caresses.
He doesn't know for a moment if Lucifer is going to do what he did and taunt so he groans in both relief and pleasure into Lucifer's mouth when his hand moves exactly where he wants it to be. Istredd reaches out with his hand, not having to look as he opens a drawer and telekinetically snapping to him a bottle of oil he got intentionally. They're two men who have to be smart. He sets it down.
He gets a deep taste of Lucifer by exploring his mouth and rocks his hips hopefully into his grasp, never passive. Please keep touching me. No shame. Please please please.
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It's the thrill backing it, that Lucifer has the ability to sate this unrelenting lust, that amps him up in a way that's another kind of torture but so very different. That Lucifer can give instead of take and still get the same amount of pooling warm heat and desire and results. He sucks on Istredd's bottom lip and pulls his desire into him, the benefit of their mental boundaries being currently strong. Themselves, loud and powerful and something other where they do meet with mental friction.
The experience alone Lucifer snacks on, takes bits into himself like a corvid stashing pieces away.
Desire is as alien to Lucifer as love but he's understanding it much, much faster.
He doesn't stop touching Istredd.
Doesn't stop giving into his wants because this Lucifer has control over, for the time being, and if he were to lose that control it only means good things, right? He wants to trust in Istredd's spell, the warding over the room. He's done with his singing though, Istredd would have to beg on a different level entirely for Lucifer to raise his chords. But he doubts he'll need to, free hand finding the oil and dexterously fumbling with it.
They've already discussed his limited knowledge but some things simply translate 1:1 that he understands the logistics and in spite of his Father does he want to fuck Istredd. Break the man down to fractions.
"I don't need a gift," he starts aloud, and finishes with vibrations echoed over their bond, if I can just unwrap you as he presses purposely now-cooled fingers into Istredd. His eyes never leave Istredd's face, soaking in the changes of expression, the slipped-escaped breaths.
See? He's so incredibly charitable.
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He has no qualms about begging, no hesitation about laying himself emotionally bare for someone he trusts. Istredd moans and for a moment he doesn't have the strength to stay upright, leaning down into him, helplessly pushing into Lucifer's grip, his touch. This isn't the best way but damned if he'll stop it. Not when Lucifer is trying and eager to give what they both need. And fuck, does he need this. Longed for it, dreamed of it.
Are you saying I'm your gift? he teases and then gasps, scrambling to put his hands on Lucifer's chest to keep himself balanced. His expression is one of pale pleasure, opening for him, wanting it. So eager. He is too busy sinking into the way it feels to try anything like pulling away, even to get rid of the pants that are going to get in the way of this.
Hell knowledge is already good enough apparently. Istredd likes a little sting, and with his body fortified as it is, he can take plenty of it.
"Unwrap me. Unravel me." Istredd meets his eyes, locks. "Fuck me until you're the only thing that exists."