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Lucifer stood in front of the tall mirror, humming a tune as he applied one sapphire earring, then the other. Michael came to stand behind him, his hands settling on Lucifer’s hips, the warmth of them seeping through the thin tunic that Lucifer wore.
“I want you to watch,” said Michael, “while I fuck you.”
‘This is a dream,’ thought Lucifer, a painful ache suddenly in his chest at the realisation.
Lucifer let out a soft gasp, not just from Michael’s words, but because immediately after, Michael had bitten down onto the side of his neck. It wasn’t enough to draw blood, although there was no doubt there would be a mark left behind. Michael spent some time sucking, lapping his tongue there in that same spot over and over, as though trying to sooth any pain that may have been caused.
A dark bruise was left behind as a result, Lucifer noticed in his reflection, but it didn’t hurt. In fact, he had enjoyed what Michael had done to him, wanted him to do it again, and again, and again, not stopping until Lucifer’s body was littered with them.
The sound of fabric rustling as Lucifer, elegantly, removed his tunic and dropped it, letting it pool around his bare feet. His lavish jewellery—necklaces and bracelets and earrings and anklets and rings, in every colour in existence—shone in the light that was filtering in through the nearby curtains.
Leaning forward, bending himself at the waist, Lucifer placed the palm of one hand against the cool surface of the mirror, the other drifting down in between his legs.
He heard the distinct impatient pop of a vial and then, shortly after, the touch of oiled fingers at his entrance. Lucifer allowed them inside, allowed as many as Michael was willing to give him. He shuddered at the hook of each and every finger, his breath fogging the mirror.
Michael was methodical with his preparation, stretching and opening and fucking Lucifer with just his fingers. Lucifer rocked back against them, as if it were possible for them to be driven in any further.
“Please,” said Lucifer. “I need you inside me.”
“I am inside you.”
“You know what I meant.”
A light chuckle from Michael. There were several more thrusts of his fingers before he withdrew them and, despite what Lucifer had said in his moment of desperation, he gave a whine from the emptiness.
Michael, thankfully, didn’t make him wait. A long moan escaped Lucifer’s open mouth at the first slide inside. Buried all the way in, Michael leaned down, his mouth planting kisses on Lucifer’s shoulder. Their eyes met in the reflection right as Michael began to thrust, fucking him slow and deep.
‘Is this how it could have been like if you had fallen with me?’
A quick flash of bright light, and the scenery changed.
When it came to wrestling with Michael, losing felt more like winning.
Lucifer was on his back after their last bout, breathless, his golden hair splayed across the green grass, his hands pinned high above his head.
“You almost had me there for a moment,” said Michael, impressed. “You’re getting better with each passing day.” With the light of the sky behind him, his features, almost impossibly, appeared more angelic.
Lucifer stared up at him, finding himself lost in twin irises containing the colours of the planet Earth.
Lucifer said, “Claim your prize.”
Michael complied with delight, lowering his head, his soft lips pressing to those of Lucifer’s. The kisses started off light and sweet until Lucifer, lifting his head as best he could considering his position on the ground, deepened them. His mouth opened pliantly, allowing Michael’s tongue to slip inside, to taste him. It was not the only penetration Lucifer was craving, but this would be enough to satisfy him for now.
A short, small string of saliva connected them when Michael, inevitably, had to pull away. The two of them took a moment to catch their breaths as they gazed at each other, brilliant matching smiles on their faces.
‘What do you dream about, Michael? Am I in them?’
Another white flash.
They were the only two in the bathhouse.
Michael sat with his legs dangling over the edge, his feet and calves submerged in the water. Lucifer was standing between them, had just finished tying his hair back, his hands now resting on Michael’s thick thighs. His fingers massaged the skin there slowly as he dipped his head, taking Michael with his mouth.
Michael released a sigh in content when his cock slipped into Lucifer’s throat. Lucifer moaned, the sound muffled around the thickness.
“You’re perfect.”
Face feeling warm, Lucifer flicked his gaze up at the strong, beautiful angel.
‘I want to stay here.’
Flash.
The sound of Lucifer’s lovely voice filled the air as he danced around a broken fountain. He was sure-footed, never losing control of his balance, as he was singing joyfully a song of worship. But the words were not intended for the Lord, not like they had once been all those years ago. He kept his eyes on Michael as he moved his body, his hips sawing enticingly, his smile bright.
He encouraged Michael to join him in dancing and after some shy hesitation, and a little embarrassment, Michael did. Taking Michael’s hands in his own, Lucifer spun them in a few circles, Michael's laughter mingling with the noise of Lucifer’s singing. The words died on his tongue, however, when Michael abruptly stopped their movements, standing in place so he could bring his mouth to Lucifer’s.
With a light push backward, Michael sat on the edge of the fountain, Lucifer quickly climbing onto his lap to ride him.
‘Eternal life is not the same without you, my beloved.’
Lucifer’s cheeks were wet when his eyes fluttered open. The first thing he noticed was the darkness of the room, a stark contrast to where he had been. The weak flickering of a flame gave him enough light to see the reason for his early awakening.
Baal was lying beside him in the bed, one hand raised to Lucifer’s shoulder. There was an expression of concern.
“Are you okay?”
"Be quiet,” said Lucifer, harsher than it needed to be, “and fuck me.”