(no subject)

[wayward_sun]

Lucifer's room is spacious, all black and chrome. It's an open plan, filled with smooth surfaces and hidden lamps. And a few old (old as in ancient) pieces of artwork.

Somehow it managed to be both dark and week illuminated at the same time.


There's a bar, a piano, and a huge bed with Egyptian cotton sheets.

An open door leads into a spacious bathroom.

All that's really lacking is the huge balcony and the L.A. skyline.

Lucifer heads straight for the bar, asking "What's your poison?"

Comments

[semicharmed]

"Nice," Matt approves, as he toes off his shoes by the door. He pads across the floor, taking in the space: piano, artwork, bed. And joins Lucifer at the bar.

"Bourbon, please?"

Matt seems more at ease here. Part of that is the several glasses of champagne, but another part is just--being alone with Lucifer, away from other people and other gazes.

[wayward_sun]

"Good call," Lucifer replies and pours a generous amount for the both of them.

His taste in liquor is, as his taste in most other things, expensive.

He ambles back and hands Matt a tumbler.

"Here you go."

He takes a ship, staying where he is in front of Matt, just a little bit too far into his personal space

[semicharmed]

Matt's lips twitch a little at the pour--definitely more than a shot--but all he says taking the glass is, "Thank you."

He swallows, savoring the warm slide of the liquor down his throat, and smiles.

"So," after a moment, "you mentioned something about games you like."

[wayward_sun]

Lucifer looks at him, worrying his lower lip with his teeth, smiling a little crookedly.

"I'm a firm believer in fun in the bedroom. And I'm very broad minded. I like for people to enjoy themselves. "

[semicharmed]

Oh--that's nice. Matt's softening smile in return seems to say as much.

"Me too." He leans against the counter, a light, hip-first sort of lounge, and takes another drink. "I like making my partners happy. Love it, actually." It'd be corny to call it a vocation, but that's how he feels. "Whether that's something totally vanilla, or tying them up, orrr--"

Smile quirking grinwards.

"You know, a little of what I talked about before."

[wayward_sun]

"Do you prefer being the one in control of the one giving it up?" Lucifer asks. "Or does it depend on the company?"

[semicharmed]

"Highly dependent on the company," Matt says. "With you ...?"

He peers up at him, brow furrowing in playful thoughtfulness. (He tries not to smile, but it's a losing effort.)

"With the caveat that I don't know you at all, I could see either way being a lot of fun."

[wayward_sun]

Lucifer grins.

"Taking turns is always fun. I do look quite fetching in restraints if I do say so myself. As you might be able to imagine."

Magic users tend to have great imaginations.

[semicharmed]

Matt does have a pretty vivid one. And he has a very transparent face, so his mental journey of imagining Lucifer tied up, on that bed--it's a little like looking into a pool of crystal-clear water.

He huffs a soft laugh, shifting slightly closer.

"Taking turns sounds great to me." One more swallow of bourbon; then he lifts his free hand, running a fingertip over the buttons of Lucifer's shirt up, up, up. "You wanna lead first?"

[wayward_sun]

Not a poker player, that one.
Not a winning one at least.

Lucifer empties his drink and puts the glass down behind him.

"Or you could show me how inventive you are," he murmurs.
"I'm getting a feeling you'd like that."

[semicharmed]

"I'd like to try," Matt admits with a smile.

His fingertip keeps traveling up, past the open throat of Lucifer's shirt. It's a small touch, this first skin on skin--the pad of his finger to the curve of Lucifer's collarbone--but it sends a shiver through him anyway.

Matt has totally forgotten to set down his glass. Instead, his hand wraps around the nape of Lucifer's neck. He stretches against him, craning up for a kiss.

[wayward_sun]

And Lucifer meets his lips willingly, running a warm hand down his back. Pulling him just a little bit closer.

His lips are warm and smooth and already slightly, invitingly, parted.

To the sensitive person there might be hints of layers beneath that harmless, if hot, exterior.

They tend to forget about that once the kissing starts.

[semicharmed]

Matt's curious about what's under the surface here. Voraciously so--what occultist wouldn't be? But part of that curiosity is for exactly what's happening now: the warm meeting of their mouths, tasting of liquor and heat. The shape of Lucifer's lips against his own.

He's happy to press closer when coaxed. One of his favorite things in the universe is stretching against someone while they kiss, feeling the full length of their body against his own. Matt's a bit shorter than Lucifer, and very slender--people tend to think words like 'willowy' or 'twig'--but he has a lithe, wiry strength at his core, and his hand is deft at the back of Lucifer's neck. Matt's fingertips rub small circles into his nape, feeling the muscle there. His own lips part, as he makes a small noise, mm or nh.

[wayward_sun]

Parted lips are an invitation, right?

Lucifer slowly deepens the kiss, as his hand continues exploring Matt's back.

He seems to like the fingers at the nape of his neck, pushing against them, cat-like.

And when he shifts his weight so he is in fact flush against may, there's no mistaking that Lucifer is indeed enjoying himself.

[semicharmed]

Oh, that's nice--the kiss, that little feline stretch, the effect it's all having on him. Matt's fingers dig in a bit deeper, nails just nipping. And he gives another stretch, rubbing their hips together. The friction sparks a warmth low in his belly. He'll have to breathe in a second, but for now he can't resist: His tongue darts out, seeking Lucifer's.

(He's still got his freaking drink in one hand. He knows that, dimly at the edge of his awareness, but the fact feels very distant from him.)

[wayward_sun]

Lucifer on the other hand is always conscious of the little details.

(Also, it would be a waste of booze)

He reaches out and plucks the tumbler from Matt's fingers, putting it down on the counter.

"You'll need both hands," he whispers against Matt's lips. "If you plan on putting action behind your words."

And then he kisses him again, eyes half closed, lips shift and pliant.

[semicharmed]

Matt laughs, sheepish--though he isn't too sheepish to return the kiss.

"Maybe," he admits, the m coming out on a satisfied hum by Lucifer's mouth. Mmmaybe. "But ..."

And, well, he does have both hands now. He reaches for Lucifer's wrist, tugging gently to see if he'll follow.

[wayward_sun]

He does follow, seemingly willing to go along, as long as he gets to keep kissing Matt.

One of his hands trail all the way up Matt's spine, so he can ruin his fingers through Matt's hair.

[semicharmed]

Matt's hair is a perpetual mess, but it's soft. A little more tousling won't hurt it. He cranes into the kiss, into the touch, but breaks off regretfully when the need to breathe hits him again.

"Here," he whispers, "just--one sec."

He pulls at Lucifer's hand again, this time bending to kiss his wrist. Matt lets the hot pulse and tender skin fill his mind, the scent of expensive cologne and that sweet, stinging copper underneath.

From the place his lips have touched down, a ribbon of golden light appears. It wraps itself around Lucifer's wrist, sealing itself off into what looks like a glowing bracelet.

Breathless, "What do you think?"

The light seems to be stationary, and gives off a warm sensation. If Lucifer tries to move his hand, he'll find there's a bit of give, but not much--the restraint will break without too much pressure applied.

[wayward_sun]

Lucifer watches him intently and let's out an "ohh" of surprise as the golden ribbon slides around his wrist.

"That is neat," he says, testing the resistance by flexing his hand and then slowly moving his wrist. Just a little.

He smiles at Matt.
"I like this. As long -"
And here the smile slips, not completely, just a little ,"as this is not a scheme to juice up a spell against your arch nemesis by using a celestial being as a battery. Because if that was the case I would be annoyed."

The smile returns. Brightly.

"I'm just here for the sex. And the glittery magic tricks."

[semicharmed]

Matt's eyes widen, and his lips part around an ah he doesn't quite say. The ribbon flickers.

(Has that, like .... has that happened to him before ...?

It's just a very specific situation.)

"I don't have any nemeses," is the first thing he can think to say, followed by, for scrupulous exactness' sake, "that I know of."

He shakes his head.

"No, ah, I promise, I'm not here for anything but sex. These restraints aren't even all that strong--give it a try." It's true. If Lucifer makes any real attempt to shake off the gleaming curl of light, it'll dissipate. With a crooked smile, Matt says, "I haven't figured out how to make them flexible and circulation-friendly and actually with tensile strength."

[wayward_sun]

"Good call," Lucifer says. "They're best avoided."

He flicks his wrist, harder, and the ribbon dissipates.
Prettily.

He looks up at Matt, eyes gleaming.

"So you haven't quite master cock rings either?" he asks, as his smile widens.

[semicharmed]

His smile twitches towards a grin.

"Not creating them. I can't, quite, nail the vibration I want."

Matt reaches for Lucifer's wrist again, thumb brushing a lazy figure eight. His lashes flutter; his breath hitches in his throat; and he draws on the bright cauldron at the bottom of his belly.

This time, the golden gleam that appears isn't a ribbon, but a sphere--a little bauble of light that drifts towards Lucifer and hums up his side. Its warmth is tangible even through his jacket and shirt. It comes to stop over one nipple and starts to buzzzz.

[wayward_sun]

That gets him a surprised - and pleased - gasp.

"I like that. Don't stop. Mm-"

A short, breathy moan rather suggests that he's struck a nerve.
A good one.

[semicharmed]

Music to his ears. Matt shivers.

"Yeah," he murmurs. His free hand rubs over Lucifer's hip, and he shifts his weight so can lean in to kiss him without brushing against the light. He kisses the corner of Lucifer's mouth, the hinge of his jaw, the side of his neck.

(Matt can't help nuzzling, just a little, into that stubble.)

The little sphere of light dips and swirls, circling Lucifer's nipple. The vibration changes too, first trailing off to barely a hum, then buzzing more intensely than before.

Against his neck, Matt breathes, "Bed?"