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."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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."