Continued...
fSam: *The noise has become overwhelming, the shard of Lucifer in his mind bright and sharp, slicing through his thoughts until he can barely think above the roar of the frustrated archangel. Finally, exhausted and holding his head, he closes his eyes.* Lucifer. Please. I need your help. Hnn. Help me.
Lucifer: *There's not mistaking the gentle pull of someone's prayers at his grace, and there's no way not to recognize the voice that whispers across his mind in plea. Lucifer takes wing, and between one heartbeat and the next is standing still and quiet in the semi-darkness of Sam's room. His vessel called and it's not a summons he cares to ignore. It's one he would go far out of his way to answer. There's no questioning why he's been called; his vessel's agony is obvious.* Oh, Sam. *His voice is gentle - soothing - and he steps in close to lay his hands over the hunter's shoulders, letting his grace bleed through and calm the roar.*
fSam: *He can barely hear Lucifer's arrival over the din in his own head. Cool hands settle on his shoulders, banishing the burn and calming the noise. He relaxes instantly beneath Lucifer's touch, a grateful sound escaping him. Lucifer came. He always comes when Sam needs him.* Thank you. I knew you'd come.
Lucifer: I always will. *And no matter how many times he's said it before, he'll keep saying it - until it's the only truth Sam knows. His hands squeeze Sam's shoulders, thumbs rubbing in a gentle massage. There's a bond between angel and vessel that can't be quantified, and though Sam is human - imperfect, broken, a stain on the earth - he's elevated above the rest. He's the exception to all of Lucifer's hatred and rage.* All I want is to give you what you need.
fSam: *The touch soothes him instantly, calming the chaos and driving the tension from his shoulders as his thumbs slowly rotate. Lucifer is the only one he's been able to rely on. He's never hated him, judged him.* I know. The only one I can count on is you. I need.. *Stupid. Weak and stupid, but he needs him.* I need you.
Lucifer: I always will. *And no matter how many times he's said it before, he'll keep saying it - until it's the only truth Sam knows. His hands squeeze Sam's shoulders, thumbs rubbing in a gentle massage. There's a bond between angel and vessel that can't be quantified, and though Sam is human - imperfect, broken, a stain on the earth - he's elevated above the rest. He's the exception to all of Lucifer's hatred and rage.* All I want is to give you what you need.
fSam: *The touch soothes him instantly, calming the chaos and driving the tension from his shoulders as his thumbs slowly rotate. Lucifer is the only one he's been able to rely on. He's never hated him, judged him.* I know. The only one I can count on is you. I need.. *Stupid. Weak and stupid, but he needs him.* I need you.
Lucifer: *He lifts one hand to brush at Sam's bangs; it's the easy sort of comfort that Nick's memories showed him. Nights with Sarah, soothing her hurts of the day with gentle touches.* You have me, Sam. We belong to each other; we always have, and we always will.
fSam: *Everything about his presence is calming. But there's one thing Sam hasn't forgotten; Lucifer isn't human. Still, Sam craves his touch, needs it.* I need you. I'll always need you. You've been the only consistent thing in my life. *Sam is vaguely aware that it's not quite correct, but with Lucifer this close, touching him, he can't remember*
Lucifer: *It's a warm thrill of satisfaction that rushes through him at those words. He pets over Sam's hair, fingers gently combing, then lifts the hand still on his shoulder and slides up to cup his neck. His thumb drags roughly along the sharp line of his jaw; the touches feel like preening, fingers fussing in their motions.* Anything you want Sam. *No longer just what he needs; but any whim.* Anything I can give you - you just have to ask.
Sam: *His pulse stutters as Lucifer's thumb finds his jawline. He can't help but angle his neck closer, offering more for him to touch. Anything he wants. What he wants is this, Lucifer touching him, the cool slide of his fingers easing his pain and calming his fractured mind. A hesitant hand comes to rest lightly on his waist and he steps closer.* Please.
Lucifer: *He lets out a confused noise at the implications of that gesture, his expression coloring with surprise, but he doesn't stop his gentle preening. His fingers go on combing through Sam's hair and dragging along the column of his exposed neck.* You don't know what you're asking, Sam. *But he meets Sam's forward step, bringing them so close together that anything wider than a hair wouldn't fit between them.*
Sam: *He doesn’t expect him to understand, the quiet sound of surprise telling him as much. But with every pass of chill fingers through his hair, every slip of his fingers along his neck and shoulders, Sam knows this is what he needs. It’s not about want anymore. He needs this, needs Lucifer to touch him. Sam doesn’t even care if Lucifer doesn’t quite want him the same way.* Yes I do. I’m not sure about a lot of things, but I am about this. *His breath is stolen as Lucifer moves closer. More. He needs more.* Please. I need this, I need you.
Lucifer: *He stops petting Sam's hair, that hand dropping down so he can wrap an arm loosely around his back and pull him in to an approximation of a hug. It's gentle, not demanding, but it brings them nearly flush against each other.* Then you'll have what you need. *Always, anything. Lucifer leans in, pressing his face into the side of Sam's neck opposite his stroking fingers. He breathes softly, cold air washing over his fallen vessel's skin, lips almost touching.* Whatever you need.
Then you’ll have what you need. And Sam needs this. He needs it - needs Lucifer - desperately. The hand on his waist shifts and his arm comes around Lucifer, keeping him close. All of the air seems to fall out of him in one shuddering breath as their bodies press against each other. There is an additional, unexpected benefit to such close contact. Silence. Sam smiles quietly as Lucifer presses his face against his neck. The cool rush of his breath across warm skin is familiar, comfortable. This time it’s Sam closing the distance between them, parted lips pressing to his.
“I need you. Please.”
Lucifer: *There's not mistaking the gentle pull of someone's prayers at his grace, and there's no way not to recognize the voice that whispers across his mind in plea. Lucifer takes wing, and between one heartbeat and the next is standing still and quiet in the semi-darkness of Sam's room. His vessel called and it's not a summons he cares to ignore. It's one he would go far out of his way to answer. There's no questioning why he's been called; his vessel's agony is obvious.* Oh, Sam. *His voice is gentle - soothing - and he steps in close to lay his hands over the hunter's shoulders, letting his grace bleed through and calm the roar.*
fSam: *He can barely hear Lucifer's arrival over the din in his own head. Cool hands settle on his shoulders, banishing the burn and calming the noise. He relaxes instantly beneath Lucifer's touch, a grateful sound escaping him. Lucifer came. He always comes when Sam needs him.* Thank you. I knew you'd come.
Lucifer: I always will. *And no matter how many times he's said it before, he'll keep saying it - until it's the only truth Sam knows. His hands squeeze Sam's shoulders, thumbs rubbing in a gentle massage. There's a bond between angel and vessel that can't be quantified, and though Sam is human - imperfect, broken, a stain on the earth - he's elevated above the rest. He's the exception to all of Lucifer's hatred and rage.* All I want is to give you what you need.
fSam: *The touch soothes him instantly, calming the chaos and driving the tension from his shoulders as his thumbs slowly rotate. Lucifer is the only one he's been able to rely on. He's never hated him, judged him.* I know. The only one I can count on is you. I need.. *Stupid. Weak and stupid, but he needs him.* I need you.
Lucifer: I always will. *And no matter how many times he's said it before, he'll keep saying it - until it's the only truth Sam knows. His hands squeeze Sam's shoulders, thumbs rubbing in a gentle massage. There's a bond between angel and vessel that can't be quantified, and though Sam is human - imperfect, broken, a stain on the earth - he's elevated above the rest. He's the exception to all of Lucifer's hatred and rage.* All I want is to give you what you need.
fSam: *The touch soothes him instantly, calming the chaos and driving the tension from his shoulders as his thumbs slowly rotate. Lucifer is the only one he's been able to rely on. He's never hated him, judged him.* I know. The only one I can count on is you. I need.. *Stupid. Weak and stupid, but he needs him.* I need you.
Lucifer: *He lifts one hand to brush at Sam's bangs; it's the easy sort of comfort that Nick's memories showed him. Nights with Sarah, soothing her hurts of the day with gentle touches.* You have me, Sam. We belong to each other; we always have, and we always will.
fSam: *Everything about his presence is calming. But there's one thing Sam hasn't forgotten; Lucifer isn't human. Still, Sam craves his touch, needs it.* I need you. I'll always need you. You've been the only consistent thing in my life. *Sam is vaguely aware that it's not quite correct, but with Lucifer this close, touching him, he can't remember*
Lucifer: *It's a warm thrill of satisfaction that rushes through him at those words. He pets over Sam's hair, fingers gently combing, then lifts the hand still on his shoulder and slides up to cup his neck. His thumb drags roughly along the sharp line of his jaw; the touches feel like preening, fingers fussing in their motions.* Anything you want Sam. *No longer just what he needs; but any whim.* Anything I can give you - you just have to ask.
Sam: *His pulse stutters as Lucifer's thumb finds his jawline. He can't help but angle his neck closer, offering more for him to touch. Anything he wants. What he wants is this, Lucifer touching him, the cool slide of his fingers easing his pain and calming his fractured mind. A hesitant hand comes to rest lightly on his waist and he steps closer.* Please.
Lucifer: *He lets out a confused noise at the implications of that gesture, his expression coloring with surprise, but he doesn't stop his gentle preening. His fingers go on combing through Sam's hair and dragging along the column of his exposed neck.* You don't know what you're asking, Sam. *But he meets Sam's forward step, bringing them so close together that anything wider than a hair wouldn't fit between them.*
Sam: *He doesn’t expect him to understand, the quiet sound of surprise telling him as much. But with every pass of chill fingers through his hair, every slip of his fingers along his neck and shoulders, Sam knows this is what he needs. It’s not about want anymore. He needs this, needs Lucifer to touch him. Sam doesn’t even care if Lucifer doesn’t quite want him the same way.* Yes I do. I’m not sure about a lot of things, but I am about this. *His breath is stolen as Lucifer moves closer. More. He needs more.* Please. I need this, I need you.
Lucifer: *He stops petting Sam's hair, that hand dropping down so he can wrap an arm loosely around his back and pull him in to an approximation of a hug. It's gentle, not demanding, but it brings them nearly flush against each other.* Then you'll have what you need. *Always, anything. Lucifer leans in, pressing his face into the side of Sam's neck opposite his stroking fingers. He breathes softly, cold air washing over his fallen vessel's skin, lips almost touching.* Whatever you need.
Then you’ll have what you need. And Sam needs this. He needs it - needs Lucifer - desperately. The hand on his waist shifts and his arm comes around Lucifer, keeping him close. All of the air seems to fall out of him in one shuddering breath as their bodies press against each other. There is an additional, unexpected benefit to such close contact. Silence. Sam smiles quietly as Lucifer presses his face against his neck. The cool rush of his breath across warm skin is familiar, comfortable. This time it’s Sam closing the distance between them, parted lips pressing to his.
“I need you. Please.”