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“It’s only fair,” Lucifer said, and his blue eyes flashed when he smiled. “I’ve fucked your brother. You should be allowed to fuck mine.”
Dean’s stomach turned to ice.
He’d always suspected that there had been… things… that had happened between Sam and Lucifer in the pit. Sam had never mentioned them, but Dean knew. Been there, done that.
So to speak.
He raised the angel blade, leveling it with Lucifer’s familiar face.
“You shut the hell up about my brother.”
Lucifer pouted, his over-exaggerated facial expressions not distracting enough to cover the fact that he was circling closer.
“You wound me deep, Dean. I wouldn’t offer Cas’s hot little body up to just anyone.” Lucifer’s smile was sharp. “I’ve been inside your brother in literally every way imaginable. We’re basically family.”
“Do they teach you that line in demon school or what?”
Dean jabbed with the blade, heading off Lucifer’s approach.
“Careful with that, Dean. Cas would be terribly upset if you broke his favorite toy.”
Dean hesitated, just long enough for Lucifer to dart forward, slapping Dean’s hand to the side and twisting his wrist until he was forced to drop the blade.
“Sam fought me too, at first,” Lucifer mused. “Has he ever told you? When we were separated in the cage, the first thing he did was bite his tongue. Tried to bleed to death.”
Lucifer twisted harder and Dean groaned as he felt bones grinding. The archangel was crowding him back against the wall. Dean was larger but Lucifer was- well, an angel. It was like trying to fight a block of marble.
“What will you do to escape me, Dean? Do you even want to?”
The last line came out in Castiel’s gravelly cadence, and Dean felt like he’d been punched in the chest.
“Cas?”
Lucifer chuckled.
“No, of course not. He’s here, of course, watching, terrified, begging me not to hurt you. ‘Not like this’ he keeps saying. ‘Not like this.’ What do you suppose he means by that?” Lucifer frowned, mock puzzlement written on his features. “Do you think maybe he had plans to try this himself, some time?”
Dean didn’t answer, too busy trying to fix shorted circuits in his mind, trying too hard to connect the dots-
“That look! That’s the exact same look your brother got, when he’d finished swallowing blood and figured out that he wasn’t going to die.” Lucifer tilted his head, scrutinizing. “That sort of sick, hopeless, terrified look. Like he’d just realized he had a big long future he was gonna have to face after all.”
“Shut up,” Dean said weakly. He didn’t want to hear any of this.
“Tell you what. I’ll give you the same deal I gave him. Ready to hear it?”
Dean almost said ‘fuck you’ and then realized that under the circumstances that’s exactly what he didn’t want to say. So he said nothing.
Lucifer twisted his wrist harder, drawing an involuntary cry of pain. The easygoing smile turned momentarily into a sneer of rage, gone as soon as it appeared. He let up the pressure.
“I can hurt Castiel as well,” he remarked offhandedly. “I don’t have to, but I can. Just so you know. It’s no fun if you just sit there and pout, so I’ll ask again; ready to hear it?”
“Fine.”
“Not ideal, but I’ll take it.” Lucifer looked around, his eyes landing on a table along a far wall. “So here’s what you do. You strip off your clothes and you go stand, facing the wall, your hands flat on that table. And you don’t fight me, you just keep your hands on the table.”
“And in return, what?”
“In return,” Lucifer answered, leaning in until his lips brushed against the shell of Dean’s ear. “I’ll give you the best fuck of your life.”
Dean wrinkled his nose.
“Yeah no offense, but I very much doubt that. You know Carmelita? From Casa Erotica?”
Lucifer laughed, loud and genuine.
“That’s good! I like that. I can see why my little brother is so fond of you. You have… temerity.” His grip on Dean’s wrist loosened, the pad of his thumb making tiny circles across the soft skin. Dean didn’t bother to struggle. He was good, but he knew when he was outmatched. He wasn’t going to take on an archangel without hurting himself. Or worse, Cas.
“Sam never stopped believing you’d come. I never understood his faith in you. Maybe I see it now.”
“Yeah yeah. Save me the poetry. Sorry bud, not interested. Are we done here?”
“Oh, not in the slightest. The deal is, if you submit, I’ll make sure you enjoy it.”
“I don’t want to enjoy it, asshole,” Dean interrupted. Lucifer’s hand tightened on his wrist again, hard enough that Dean sucked in a gasp of pain.
“The caveat being,” Lucifer continued, “that if you fight me, I’ll make sure you don’t enjoy it. I created the entirety of hell and I’ve been trapped inside it for millennia. Do I need to explain to you the absolute embarrassment of ways I could hurt you? I know tortures whose agony could cripple your tiny little mind in minutes.”
Dean stared at him, trying to reconcile the words with Cas’s wide, crinkled eyes. He had no doubt Lucifer was telling the truth, but-
“Would you like to know what Sam chose?”
“No.”
“Too bad.” Lucifer released him, stopping to pick up the angel blade. He examined it momentarily and then tossed it to one side. “He folded instantly. I think he was in shock, actually. He just stood there with this look on his face- with all this blood smeared all over his chin and his hands and dripping down onto his clothes and he just stared at me. Like his whole life was flashing in front of his eyes and he was trying to figure out exactly which decision lead him there.” Lucifer shrugged. “I dunno if he figured it out, but he did say your name.”
Lucifer pantomimed tapping a watch.
“Times up, pain or pleasure, what do you want?”
Dean swallowed. He remembered hell, the tortures there, hell, the sex there, the endless progressions of demons, the fucking hounds-
“I’ll do it.”
“Thought you would.” Lucifer gestured to the table. “Get to it.”
Dean closed his eyes, breathing deep, in once, out slow.
It was entirely possible that Lucifer was going to do this whole buildup and then hurt him anyway. The angel was just playing with him. He could do whatever he wanted and they both knew it.
Dean stripped off his clothes, dropping them carelessly into a pile on the floor. Lucifer eyed him lasciviously, but Dean genuinely didn’t care. Close as he could figure, he was about seventy-five years old, and forty of those had been spent naked in hell. Some days it seemed like wearing them was stranger than going without.
His bare feet were silent on the concrete floor as he walked across the room. Lucifer watched him go, but Dean didn’t look at the angel. When he remembered this, later, he didn’t want to think of Cas’s face.
He breathed deep again and then, deliberately, placed his hands on the table.
Lucifer didn’t move.
“Well?” Dean snapped.
“Just admiring,” Lucifer said, and there was a little more of Cas’s raspy cadence in his tone. He stepped forward, still fully clothed, and laid his hands- Cas’s hands- on Dean’s back.
Slowly he stroked downwards, applying just the right amount of pressure, fingertips kneading gently into the tensed muscle of Dean’s back.
“Do you know, your brother has this same mole?” he remarked, his fingers pausing on a spot on Dean’s left side. Dean knew Sam had one there. Birthmark. He said nothing. Lucifer’s fingers worked their way down his back, inches at a time, working the tension out of the coiled flesh.
“Do these bother you?” Lucifer asked gently, tracing along the edges of some deep gouges Dean had picked up along the way somewhere. “They weren’t cared for properly. They should have been stitched.”
Sam was at college. Dad was doing his own hunt. Dean hadn’t been able to reach. Whatever. They’d healed- albeit slightly crooked. He could feel the skill pulling, if he twisted just right.
“I could heal them, if you want.”
“Fuck, no,” Dean snapped, and he felt Lucifer’s shrug through his hands.
“Suit yourself. I healed Sam. Did you notice? When he got back from hell?”
Dean had noticed. He said nothing.
“His skin was so beautiful for me. A blank canvas. I spent days with him, just like this, cataloguing every mound and crease and freckle on his body.” Lucifer’s tone was reminiscent, distant. “Of course afterwards I peeled it off with tongs, and that left a fair amount of scarring, but still. Beautiful.”
Dean shuddered, deeply uncomfortable with the juxtaposition between Lucifer’s words and his tone, his gentle touch and his unveiled threat. His hands went lower now, cupping Dean’s ass, kneading it so that his cheeks were alternatively pulled apart and then pushed together. Dean’s hands folded into fists, but he kept his palms on the table.
Lucifer pressed up against his back, the full lengths of their bodies suddenly meshing together. The angel’s hands snaked around his hips, one hefting his balls while the other stroked his soft cock.
“Sam was already hard, by this point,” Lucifer told him. “He’s so sensitive, not like you. He needs to be close to someone, to be touched- by the time he got to me, he was so desperate I barely needed to try.”
“Bullshit, Sam gets plenty.”
Lucifer chuckled, low and dark. His hands dropped to Dean’s thighs, stroking up and down the soft skin he found there.
“Meaningless fucks in bars and whorehouses. Women who use him for their own pleasure and leave without even a goodbye.”
Dean was starting to harden, the muscles of his groin tensing involuntarily at Lucifer’s touch. He closed his eyes, let it happen, waited for it to be over.
“Nobody touches Sam the way he needs to be touched. No one since Jess. No one but me.” Warm lips pressed against the side of Dean’s lips and he shivered. Lucifer’s hands were moving up his body now, short nails scraping lightly over the skin of his belly, his chest, his throat. “He loved me, did he ever tell you that? He loved me for the things I did to him. That’s the real beauty of torture, you know, that’s where the real skill lies. Any barbarian can cut out a tongue. But it takes a master to break a soul so deeply that they’ll ask for it. The last word on your brother’s tongue was ‘thank you,’ and when I took it from him, he cried tears of gratitude.”
Dean’s stomach twisted, he felt sick, but Lucifer’s hand had dropped back to his groin. Cas’s deft fingers were wrapped around his shaft, slick with some unknown substance, working his cock into full hardness.
“He used to tell me he loved me, while he rode my dick. Did he ever tell you that?”
Lucifer’s mouth moved down his back, sucking hot little kisses down his spine, and Dean found himself rising involuntarily up onto his toes, leaning back into the touch. He forced himself to stop.
Lucifer dropped to one knee, teeth nipping gently at the curve of Dean’s ass. His fingers slid from Dean’s balls back, ghosting over his hole, letting one slick finger circle gently around the furrowed skin.
“Ah, but you’ve done this before, haven’t you?”
Dean ground his teeth and nodded, because he had, so many times.
“Sam was a virgin. It took me ages to work him open, a tiny little bit at a time, the whole time murmuring sweet little encouragements into his ear.” Lucifer smirked, his breath hot in the cleft of Dean’s ass. “Your little brother is just like mine- they’ll do anything as long as you keep telling them they’re doing it well.”
Lucifer kept one arm wrapped around Dean’s thigh, stroking his hip, as the first of his fingers breached Dean’s entrance. Dean didn’t even flinch.
“You’re different though, aren’t you, Dean? I think you’ll open right up for me, won’t you.”
The slim digit pushed deeper, caressing his smooth inner walls, and Dean let out a quiet whine. Lucifer hadn’t been lying. It was good. There were things he’d… learned to like, in hell. He wasn’t proud of it, but he couldn’t deny it either.
“Oh. Oh.” A second finger invaded him, the two of them twisting inside him, working him open. Lucifer was chuckling. “I have a message to pass on.”
The fingers withdrew, leaving Dean tightening around nothing. A moment later he felt something wet and hot caressing his hole, pushing gently into the opening, and holy fuck Lucifer was tonguing his ass.
That was new. The denizens of hell were more concerned with taking pleasure than giving it. The feel of lips and tongue were utterly foreign, hot and wet and soft, sucking gently at the sensitive skin, and Dean heard himself moaning. His hands relaxed against the table and he leaned forward, giving the angel more room to work.
Lucifer withdrew and a moment later two fingers were working themselves back into Dean’s wet hole. A third joined them a minute later, turning and stretching, pushing deeper, and Dean leaned back into them, seeking more. Lucifer’s tongue lapped at the edges, and Dean relaxed into the touch, giving him whatever he wanted.
Lucifer’s other hand reached between his legs, rolling Dean’s balls in one hand before reaching up and stroking his shaft. Dean let out a gasp, clenching his eyes tight, his fingers white against the table. There was a pressure growing in his belly and he tensed his stomach, holding it, willing it to build-
Lucifer pulled back abruptly and Dean let out a cry of disappointment before he could stop himself.
He didn’t turn around, just listened to Lucifer undressing.
“Cas has always wanted to do that for you. The desire slipped through by accident, but still- who am I to deny my little brother anything he wants?”
Lucifer’s body slotted up against Dean’s back, skin abnormally hot and dry. His cock pressed insistently against Dean’s stretched, wet hole.
“Incidentally, he’s always wanted to do this, too,” Lucifer whispered, and then he was burying himself inside Dean’s body with a grunt. One hand lay possessively on Dean’s hip, holding him still, and the other reached around to work his softening cock back into hardness.
“Think you could come with me inside you?” Lucifer whispered into his ear. “Sam could. Not at first- he was too embarrassed, I’d have to finish him off afterwards. But by the end?” The angel chuckled. “By the end, he could come untouched, just from having my fat dick shoved up inside him.”
“Ugh, stop,” Dean groaned. Lucifer was fucking into him slow, but hard, pushing him down against the table until he was practically lying on it. Dean canted his hips up, letting Lucifer’s cock glide against his inner walls. Every time he withdrew, Dean’s rim would catch on the head of his cock, and Dean’s breath would hitch. It would be amazing- phenomenal- if Lucifer would just stop talking.
Lucifer’s hands moved faster, stroking him in sharp, fast jerks, and the pressure in his belly was building again. He let it rise, his muscles tight, his breath coming uneven.
“That’s it Dean, give it up, just like that-“
Dean came with a cry, spilling his load all over Lucifer’s fist, shaking at the sudden overstimulation on his cock.
“Sto- ah-”
Lucifer pulled out, and Dean listened to him redressing, wondering if this was a trick to make him think it was over. To make him lift his hands and turn away, and then the punishment would come-
“Well, this has been… just wonderful… but I have things to attend to.”
Dean turned back, looking at Lucifer incredulously.
“Just like that?”
Lucifer shrugged.
“I would have skipped it entirely, but the way Castiel goes on pining for you, regretting all the things he never said-” Lucifer made a dismissive gesture. “It is unbelievably tiring. So I told him I’d give him a little present. And here we are.”
Lucifer paused, his head tilted in an extremely Cas-like gesture. He rolled his eyes.
“And he’s still unhappy. No pleasing this spoiled little brat.”
“What did he want to say?” Dean asked hoarsely, not sure he wanted to know the answer. Lucifer groaned, rolling his eyes even more theatrically.
“Who cares? I did you both a favor by skipping to the finish line, trust me. Say hi to Sam for me.”
And just like that, he was gone.