Fic: In Fires (SPN)
Title: In Fires
Author: fete_in_june
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Lucifer
Ratings/Contents: NC-17, marathon!sex
Spoilers: Through 7.02
Notes: Written for Round 6 of Blindfold for the prompt Sam really doesn't get why everyone thinks he got tortured in hell. Because as soon as they fell in the Cage... after they tuck Michael in the corner to cuddle with Adam... when they finally have some fucking privacy... Sam and Lucifer fuck. All over the place. Enthusiastically.
(And those hallucinations? Yeah, they're kind of more like really intense wet dreams...).
They’ve landed in an awkward pile of limbs and wings and broken bits of soul. Above them, the Earth closes and blots out the sun. All around them burn the fires of Hell, but in this place, the flames don’t touch them.
Sam scrambles backward against the rough wood floor and tries to take in his surroundings. As far as he can tell, the Cage resembles nothing so much as a somewhat bare-bones loft. There’s different rooms-he can see beds and chains and hooks-with heavy doors and thick walls painted with blood. There are windows, too, overlooking Hell, and he can see a million souls dangling from racks and a million more carving intricate patterns into them.
Wings beat, then Lucifer appears-in his old blond vessel, the one that was exploding but seems to be containing him fine now-and grabs his shoulder. Sam struggles. Michael, in the shape of a young John Winchester, is carrying Adam into one of the rooms. He can’t tell what’s inside. There’s a scream, cut off once the door shuts behind them.
He grabs Lucifer’s collar and stares into his eyes. Lucifer strokes his face. The Devil is patient and soothing and damn near the most beautiful thing Sam’s ever seen. He remembers Lucifer whispering promises into his dreams, remembers their struggle after Sam said yes, remembers how he won. How he beat the Devil.
Lucifer wraps his arms around Sam and kisses him, and Sam kisses back. Their tongues push and fight and their hands rip at one another’s clothes. They don’t make it to a room-every time Lucifer tries to move him, Sam causes him to trip and they go tumbling across the floor.
Sam gets Lucifer pinned, victorious, and sucks a mark into his neck while Lucifer slides a hand between their bodies and grabs Sam’s cock. Sam yelps and Lucifer rolls them over, grinning, jacking Sam infuriatingly slow. Sam digs his nails into Lucifer’s shoulders and bites at his mouth, trapping Lucifer’s tongue between his teeth and laughing.
~ ~ ~
“Sammy!”
The cage fades out. Dean fades in. Sam blinks.
“What happened?”
He recognizes the place. They’re squatting-Sam’s idea-and they have their own rooms. He remembers Dean wasn’t happy about it, but there are some things about Sam’s memories he’s not ready for his brother to know. Dean’s got that strained look that means he’s trying to mask how terrified he is.
“Flashback,” he grunts, tossing Sam a towel. “You were seizing, dude.”
Sam nods. Of course. Flashbacks from the Cage, from suffering unending torture for however many decades he was stuck there. He wipes his sweaty face with the towel and sits up. He’s still sore in all the places Lucifer touched, but they’re just echoes. And, he realizes, his dick is still hard.
He covers his erection with the towel just as Dean turns around with a glass of water.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, sure,” Sam says. His hips are throbbing where Lucifer pressed bruises into his skin and his dick feels like it’s going to explode and all he wants is for Dean to leave him alone to jerk off.
Dean’s not so easily convinced. “Whatever, I still don’t want to leave you alone. In case you choke on your own puke or something.”
Sam closes his eyes and hopes the image is enough to kill his hard-on.
No such luck.
“Really, Dean, I’m fine,” Sam says. “But if you hear me screaming again, feel free to come back.”
The second the door shuts behind Dean, Sam finishes himself off to the memory of Lucifer’s mouth and tongue on his. He scrapes his blunt nails across his dick and pretends they’re Lucifer’s, and when he comes, it’s on Lucifer’s whispered command.
~ ~ ~
Time means nothing in the Cage. Days, weeks, years go by without Sam noticing. At first, he tries to measure by how many times he and Lucifer have fucked, but even that becomes a blur. Lucifer on top of him, under him, inside him; Sam’s mouth on his cock and Sam’s name on his lips; on beds and on tables and against walls.
Refractory periods mean nothing, either.
Lucifer bends Sam over one of the tables and grabs his hips, fingers fitting perfectly on top of bruises he’s all but carved into Sam’s body, and slides in easily. Another benefit of sex in Hell-their physical bodies are more metaphor than not, and things like lube and prep aren’t exactly necessary. Lucifer fucks Sam hard and fast, and Sam can barely breathe through all of it.
Breathing isn’t necessary, either.
Lucifer comes three times before letting Sam reach completion. Sam doesn’t mind, because lack of recovery time or not, Lucifer’s fucked-out enough that Sam can tie him to the rafters. Then, he takes his time, licking and biting at Lucifer’s nipples until Lucifer starts trying to kick him. Sam grabs his legs and tucks them over his shoulders, kneeling and wrapping his lips around the head of Lucifer’s cock. He moves slowly, excruciatingly slowly, enjoying first the swearing and then the threats that pour from Lucifer’s mouth. But it’s when Lucifer starts begging-starts pleading for mercy, for Sam to just let him come already, that Sam feels victorious.
It takes days-he’s not sure how many-but he doesn’t let Lucifer come until the pleas are reduced to mindless whimpering.
~ ~ ~
The seizures have stopped, for the most part, but Sam still wakes up desperately hard or with his dick covered in come. Without fail. And the memories stay with him. Through hunting and research and digging up bodies, all he can think about is Lucifer.
Dean thinks he’s going insane. Sam thinks he’s probably right.
After all, Sam would have to be insane to miss Hell. He hasn’t told Dean any of what he experienced there-not even half-truths and full-lies-and he doesn’t intend to. Dean was tortured for thirty years and torturer for ten more, while Sam spent over a century fucking and being fucked by Satan.
He kind of doubts Dean would take it well.
And anyway, there’s something else that’s worrying him. He’s starting to see Lucifer in the daylight. In the flesh. Standing there with that infuriating smirk that makes Sam want to sink his teeth into the Devil’s lips. And every time Lucifer shows up, he’s all Sam can focus on, until Dean digs his thumb into Sam’s hand and the pain brings him back.
Sam learns to control his expressions. He learns to hide any evidence of hallucinations, but he knows Dean isn’t convinced. Then again, Dean has his own problems, and Sam’s perfectly happy not sharing any details of just what, exactly, Lucifer does inside Sam’s head.
~ ~ ~
”Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
Sam glances up. Lucifer is propped up on one elbow, gazing over Sam’s naked body. The hellfire pouring through the window makes Lucifer seem entirely otherworldly, and Sam has to laugh.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Sam says. Lucifer draws little curlicues on Sam’s abs with his finger.
“Because you are beautiful,” he says. “My true vessel. I meant it, Sam. Every word. You and I were always meant to be together.”
Sam wonders when Lucifer became a thirteen-year-old girl. He also realizes he doesn’t mind, and that part is far more concerning. He stretches out on the bed and groans. Lucifer licks his lips and dips his head to bite at Sam’s collarbone.
When Sam rolls them over, Lucifer doesn’t protest, and when Sam lifts Lucifer’s knees to his chest and pushes his cock against Lucifer’s hole, he meets no resistance at all. They fuck slow.
That’s the first time they make love.
~ ~ ~
“Really, Sam?” Lucifer says. He’s juggling salt rounds. Sam is reading at the table and pretending to ignore him. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”
“Shut up.”
“It’s sweet. You love me. Wonder what Dean would think of that?” Sam doesn’t respond. “Wonder what he’d think if he found out what all those nightmares really were.”
“He’s not going to,” Sam says, slamming his book shut and standing. Lucifer smirks. “You’re not real.”
Lucifer strides toward him and drags a fingernail down the side of Sam’s face. He shudders. It feels real. Almost. But not quite.
Still. It’s enough, and he grabs a fistful of Lucifer’s hair and jerks him in for a kiss. Lucifer’s leg wraps around Sam’s body, heel digging in behind his knee and forcing Sam to collapse against the Devil, who supports him easily, even as one of his hands slides inside Sam’s shirt and tweaks a nipple. Sam gasps.
The door slams open and Sam stumbles backward, knocking his head against the chair.
“Sammy?” Dean’s voice punches through the haze. “What happened?”
“Fell asleep,” Sam says. “I’m fine.”
Dean doesn’t press the issue. Sam is grateful.
~ ~ ~
Sam has Lucifer’s cock in his mouth and Lucifer’s fingers tangled in his hair. He should be choking, with how viciously Lucifer fucks his throat, but he’s not. His fingers press into Lucifer’s hips. They have matching bruises, now, and Sam likes to lick the shapes when his mouth isn’t otherwise occupied.
Lucifer’s hand tightens and he pulls Sam off his cock before bending him over the bed and pounding, hard, into his ass. Sam claws at the bedsheets, crying out as he comes. His scream echoes in their room, echoes through all the rooms.
Outside, the screams of the damned don’t penetrate the Cage.
Author: fete_in_june
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Lucifer
Ratings/Contents: NC-17, marathon!sex
Spoilers: Through 7.02
Notes: Written for Round 6 of Blindfold for the prompt Sam really doesn't get why everyone thinks he got tortured in hell. Because as soon as they fell in the Cage... after they tuck Michael in the corner to cuddle with Adam... when they finally have some fucking privacy... Sam and Lucifer fuck. All over the place. Enthusiastically.
(And those hallucinations? Yeah, they're kind of more like really intense wet dreams...).
They’ve landed in an awkward pile of limbs and wings and broken bits of soul. Above them, the Earth closes and blots out the sun. All around them burn the fires of Hell, but in this place, the flames don’t touch them.
Sam scrambles backward against the rough wood floor and tries to take in his surroundings. As far as he can tell, the Cage resembles nothing so much as a somewhat bare-bones loft. There’s different rooms-he can see beds and chains and hooks-with heavy doors and thick walls painted with blood. There are windows, too, overlooking Hell, and he can see a million souls dangling from racks and a million more carving intricate patterns into them.
Wings beat, then Lucifer appears-in his old blond vessel, the one that was exploding but seems to be containing him fine now-and grabs his shoulder. Sam struggles. Michael, in the shape of a young John Winchester, is carrying Adam into one of the rooms. He can’t tell what’s inside. There’s a scream, cut off once the door shuts behind them.
He grabs Lucifer’s collar and stares into his eyes. Lucifer strokes his face. The Devil is patient and soothing and damn near the most beautiful thing Sam’s ever seen. He remembers Lucifer whispering promises into his dreams, remembers their struggle after Sam said yes, remembers how he won. How he beat the Devil.
Lucifer wraps his arms around Sam and kisses him, and Sam kisses back. Their tongues push and fight and their hands rip at one another’s clothes. They don’t make it to a room-every time Lucifer tries to move him, Sam causes him to trip and they go tumbling across the floor.
Sam gets Lucifer pinned, victorious, and sucks a mark into his neck while Lucifer slides a hand between their bodies and grabs Sam’s cock. Sam yelps and Lucifer rolls them over, grinning, jacking Sam infuriatingly slow. Sam digs his nails into Lucifer’s shoulders and bites at his mouth, trapping Lucifer’s tongue between his teeth and laughing.
~ ~ ~
“Sammy!”
The cage fades out. Dean fades in. Sam blinks.
“What happened?”
He recognizes the place. They’re squatting-Sam’s idea-and they have their own rooms. He remembers Dean wasn’t happy about it, but there are some things about Sam’s memories he’s not ready for his brother to know. Dean’s got that strained look that means he’s trying to mask how terrified he is.
“Flashback,” he grunts, tossing Sam a towel. “You were seizing, dude.”
Sam nods. Of course. Flashbacks from the Cage, from suffering unending torture for however many decades he was stuck there. He wipes his sweaty face with the towel and sits up. He’s still sore in all the places Lucifer touched, but they’re just echoes. And, he realizes, his dick is still hard.
He covers his erection with the towel just as Dean turns around with a glass of water.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, sure,” Sam says. His hips are throbbing where Lucifer pressed bruises into his skin and his dick feels like it’s going to explode and all he wants is for Dean to leave him alone to jerk off.
Dean’s not so easily convinced. “Whatever, I still don’t want to leave you alone. In case you choke on your own puke or something.”
Sam closes his eyes and hopes the image is enough to kill his hard-on.
No such luck.
“Really, Dean, I’m fine,” Sam says. “But if you hear me screaming again, feel free to come back.”
The second the door shuts behind Dean, Sam finishes himself off to the memory of Lucifer’s mouth and tongue on his. He scrapes his blunt nails across his dick and pretends they’re Lucifer’s, and when he comes, it’s on Lucifer’s whispered command.
~ ~ ~
Time means nothing in the Cage. Days, weeks, years go by without Sam noticing. At first, he tries to measure by how many times he and Lucifer have fucked, but even that becomes a blur. Lucifer on top of him, under him, inside him; Sam’s mouth on his cock and Sam’s name on his lips; on beds and on tables and against walls.
Refractory periods mean nothing, either.
Lucifer bends Sam over one of the tables and grabs his hips, fingers fitting perfectly on top of bruises he’s all but carved into Sam’s body, and slides in easily. Another benefit of sex in Hell-their physical bodies are more metaphor than not, and things like lube and prep aren’t exactly necessary. Lucifer fucks Sam hard and fast, and Sam can barely breathe through all of it.
Breathing isn’t necessary, either.
Lucifer comes three times before letting Sam reach completion. Sam doesn’t mind, because lack of recovery time or not, Lucifer’s fucked-out enough that Sam can tie him to the rafters. Then, he takes his time, licking and biting at Lucifer’s nipples until Lucifer starts trying to kick him. Sam grabs his legs and tucks them over his shoulders, kneeling and wrapping his lips around the head of Lucifer’s cock. He moves slowly, excruciatingly slowly, enjoying first the swearing and then the threats that pour from Lucifer’s mouth. But it’s when Lucifer starts begging-starts pleading for mercy, for Sam to just let him come already, that Sam feels victorious.
It takes days-he’s not sure how many-but he doesn’t let Lucifer come until the pleas are reduced to mindless whimpering.
~ ~ ~
The seizures have stopped, for the most part, but Sam still wakes up desperately hard or with his dick covered in come. Without fail. And the memories stay with him. Through hunting and research and digging up bodies, all he can think about is Lucifer.
Dean thinks he’s going insane. Sam thinks he’s probably right.
After all, Sam would have to be insane to miss Hell. He hasn’t told Dean any of what he experienced there-not even half-truths and full-lies-and he doesn’t intend to. Dean was tortured for thirty years and torturer for ten more, while Sam spent over a century fucking and being fucked by Satan.
He kind of doubts Dean would take it well.
And anyway, there’s something else that’s worrying him. He’s starting to see Lucifer in the daylight. In the flesh. Standing there with that infuriating smirk that makes Sam want to sink his teeth into the Devil’s lips. And every time Lucifer shows up, he’s all Sam can focus on, until Dean digs his thumb into Sam’s hand and the pain brings him back.
Sam learns to control his expressions. He learns to hide any evidence of hallucinations, but he knows Dean isn’t convinced. Then again, Dean has his own problems, and Sam’s perfectly happy not sharing any details of just what, exactly, Lucifer does inside Sam’s head.
~ ~ ~
”Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
Sam glances up. Lucifer is propped up on one elbow, gazing over Sam’s naked body. The hellfire pouring through the window makes Lucifer seem entirely otherworldly, and Sam has to laugh.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Sam says. Lucifer draws little curlicues on Sam’s abs with his finger.
“Because you are beautiful,” he says. “My true vessel. I meant it, Sam. Every word. You and I were always meant to be together.”
Sam wonders when Lucifer became a thirteen-year-old girl. He also realizes he doesn’t mind, and that part is far more concerning. He stretches out on the bed and groans. Lucifer licks his lips and dips his head to bite at Sam’s collarbone.
When Sam rolls them over, Lucifer doesn’t protest, and when Sam lifts Lucifer’s knees to his chest and pushes his cock against Lucifer’s hole, he meets no resistance at all. They fuck slow.
That’s the first time they make love.
~ ~ ~
“Really, Sam?” Lucifer says. He’s juggling salt rounds. Sam is reading at the table and pretending to ignore him. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”
“Shut up.”
“It’s sweet. You love me. Wonder what Dean would think of that?” Sam doesn’t respond. “Wonder what he’d think if he found out what all those nightmares really were.”
“He’s not going to,” Sam says, slamming his book shut and standing. Lucifer smirks. “You’re not real.”
Lucifer strides toward him and drags a fingernail down the side of Sam’s face. He shudders. It feels real. Almost. But not quite.
Still. It’s enough, and he grabs a fistful of Lucifer’s hair and jerks him in for a kiss. Lucifer’s leg wraps around Sam’s body, heel digging in behind his knee and forcing Sam to collapse against the Devil, who supports him easily, even as one of his hands slides inside Sam’s shirt and tweaks a nipple. Sam gasps.
The door slams open and Sam stumbles backward, knocking his head against the chair.
“Sammy?” Dean’s voice punches through the haze. “What happened?”
“Fell asleep,” Sam says. “I’m fine.”
Dean doesn’t press the issue. Sam is grateful.
~ ~ ~
Sam has Lucifer’s cock in his mouth and Lucifer’s fingers tangled in his hair. He should be choking, with how viciously Lucifer fucks his throat, but he’s not. His fingers press into Lucifer’s hips. They have matching bruises, now, and Sam likes to lick the shapes when his mouth isn’t otherwise occupied.
Lucifer’s hand tightens and he pulls Sam off his cock before bending him over the bed and pounding, hard, into his ass. Sam claws at the bedsheets, crying out as he comes. His scream echoes in their room, echoes through all the rooms.
Outside, the screams of the damned don’t penetrate the Cage.