SPN/Lost crossover, Lucifer/Esau which is kinda Lucifer/War + Jacob/Esau, reunion + hand holding 1/2janie_tangerineApril 18 2010, 18:21:18 UTC
“I was waiting for you,” the real devil says as you finally stand in front of him again.
“Seriously?” you answer, keeping a safe distance from him, because you can’t have worked so hard to escape that godforsaken island and become what you were always meant to be to just find out that Lucifer is wearing Jacob’s face. “That is your vessel?”
Because really. The devil shouldn’t be wearing a meatsuit that looks about to fall down into pieces.
Lucifer raises an eyebrow and looks down at himself, then sighs.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s not the one intended for me, but entering it caused… distress and I still have to contact the one intended for me. What’s wrong with it?”
“Except for that piece of skin falling off your cheek? You look like Jacob, that’s what’s wrong with it. Though let me tell you, he took better care of himself.”
“Sorry for that. Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
You snort and try not to pay attention; after all, it’s just a vessel. And even if it has the face of the person who kept you there since Lucifer first fell, you can let a grudge go. For now. You still don’t particularly like it, but it’ll do.
“Well, I’ll try not to mind,” you shrug. Everything feels too good to care. John Locke felt just so wrong; now, this? The whole contrary.
“So, you’re free,” Lucifer says then, a glint sparkling in blue eyes. “How much time has it been?”
“An eternity,” you whisper, because it’s been an eternity since he fell, or so it feels like; and you went with him and you’ll never regret it, not when now you might have a second chance at winning your fight.
And while now he’s rotting away in a vessel who doesn’t make him justice (it’s not just that it’s Jacob’s face; even if it wasn’t, nothing could really suit Lucifer), him who once was the most beautiful creature to ever grace Heaven, you can still feel him from his prison of flesh.
The more you look, the more you see behind it and the more you remember how pure and perfect and holy he used to be (along with you), and then his arms are around your waist and your hand brings his neck forward. You kiss him harshly, roughly, trying to get past the human, all to human taste of his vessel and find him, the Lightbringer, the only one you’d follow to the end.
The one you worked so hard to leave that island for, and harder since you knew that he was free.
(The island isn’t there anymore. Like anyone that was on it. You don’t care. You really don’t.)
His clothes fall under your hands, frail and torn and imperfect as his flesh, and then yours are just gone.
Right. He never was particularly patient.
You’re in a bedroom in some abandoned house (Pestilence was taking a walk near here last day, he whispers in your ear when you take a second to eye your surroundings), and then you fall into the unmade bed. It feels welcoming, after centuries, after millennia of not sleeping and earth and everything but, and you might not be human but you know how to appreciate comforts. Lucifer’s hands dig into your back and push you down as he grinds against you. The friction is delicious, the feeling of his teeth biting into your shoulder is, too, and if there’s something wrong about being constricted to flesh (him, at least; you still could turn into smoke, but you really don’t want to, not when it’s easier like this) then it’s lost in the fire inside his mouth and in the wicked way his tongue moves as it battles with yours. You bite down on his lower lip and the skin is so frail that it draws blood, but he moans, saying that it really had been too much time, really too much, and you agree silently as you savor his taste.
Your hand reaches down where he’s hard and shifting his hips in a way that is nothing but sinful, and wouldn’t he know that, and then you slowly, slowly start to jerk him off (nothing like what happened with Jacob once each few centuries; that was rough and harsh and release, and after each time you just hated each other more than before).
Re: SPN/Lost crossover, Lucifer/Esau which is kinda Lucifer/War + Jacob/Esau, reunion + hand holdingjanie_tangerineApril 18 2010, 18:21:53 UTC
And that’s when you see that there’s light seeping out from his closed eyelids, and appearing under his skin; and you see him in that light, you see Lucifer as you saw him before he fell, beautiful and threatening and perfect and nothing like those unworthy humans you were sacrificed for; and while his grace doesn’t keep that vessel together but threatens to make it fall apart, you bask in that light as it tries not to break from its constrictions and those human legs part.
You fuck him down into the mattress as his body meets yours and his grace blesses you in a way that is nothing short of unholy (the noises he makes can’t be holy, the way his cock hardens in your grip can’t be either, and his whole self isn’t anymore and you both don’t care, because in Heaven it could never feel like this) as it threatens to swallow you.
You look at the shadow his true form in the eyes, which merge with the vessel’s and then are separate and then merge again, and as you feel closer, you grab his frail, human hand and push it against the pillow.
His fingers grip yours in a tight, deathly grip (for anyone else; not for you) and as you let yourself go and he does, too, you speak his name in your true voice as he speaks your name in his, and all the windows shatter and you finally, finally know real ecstasy.
You’re sure he already did know, but then again, he always was the one leading you even if he was good at pretending he never did.
--
You don’t feel the chill as you lay on the bed. Lucifer’s grace is gone now, back inside that poor, imperfect union of bones and flesh and nerves and blood. Strangely, though, now his vessel is in a much better condition.
“What about that?” you ask.
“It seems like letting my Grace free had an healing effect. I suppose it will last for a while.”
You nod, and then look at your right hand, still entwined with his left.
You turn and hold your left one out to him.
“I think you have something that was mine.”
Lucifer’s smile would seem downright devilish to humans, and maybe it’s not too far from the truth, but really. You can’t possibly be scared by him. And especially not now when you finally, finally get to be yourself again.
You’re both suddenly dressed again, and he reaches down into his shirt’s pocket.
He holds the ring out to you and places it in your palm.
You take it and remove your hand from his in order to push it down on your finger and as you do, it finally feels like everything is falling into place.
You close your eyes and let a minute pass.
When you open them again, you meet his stare.
“Welcome back, War,” he whispers, and the feeling of rightness swelling up in your chest is so strong that for a second you feel overwhelmed.
Then it’s gone and there’s nothing else you can do except asking him what are the plans and hear him as he tells you how you’re going to turn Earth back into paradise.
Re: SPN/Lost crossover, Lucifer/Esau which is kinda Lucifer/War + Jacob/Esau, reunion + hand holdingjanie_tangerineApril 18 2010, 22:14:22 UTC
Heee, thank you!! :D I just couldn't help the double crossing here, but hey. There's potential. THEY HAVE THE SAME FACES!! And I'm so really glad you liked it, I just couldn't resist the windows shattering either. But I find that kind of hot when I read it in SPN, so. ;) And oh, that'd be so awesome if those two just went and ruled the world! I might get behind it. Really. SPN after 5x01? Totally didn't happen.
(Except for the whorehouse deal but hey, I mean. ;) )
“Seriously?” you answer, keeping a safe distance from him, because you can’t have worked so hard to escape that godforsaken island and become what you were always meant to be to just find out that Lucifer is wearing Jacob’s face. “That is your vessel?”
Because really. The devil shouldn’t be wearing a meatsuit that looks about to fall down into pieces.
Lucifer raises an eyebrow and looks down at himself, then sighs.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s not the one intended for me, but entering it caused… distress and I still have to contact the one intended for me. What’s wrong with it?”
“Except for that piece of skin falling off your cheek? You look like Jacob, that’s what’s wrong with it. Though let me tell you, he took better care of himself.”
“Sorry for that. Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
You snort and try not to pay attention; after all, it’s just a vessel. And even if it has the face of the person who kept you there since Lucifer first fell, you can let a grudge go. For now. You still don’t particularly like it, but it’ll do.
“Well, I’ll try not to mind,” you shrug. Everything feels too good to care. John Locke felt just so wrong; now, this? The whole contrary.
“So, you’re free,” Lucifer says then, a glint sparkling in blue eyes. “How much time has it been?”
“An eternity,” you whisper, because it’s been an eternity since he fell, or so it feels like; and you went with him and you’ll never regret it, not when now you might have a second chance at winning your fight.
And while now he’s rotting away in a vessel who doesn’t make him justice (it’s not just that it’s Jacob’s face; even if it wasn’t, nothing could really suit Lucifer), him who once was the most beautiful creature to ever grace Heaven, you can still feel him from his prison of flesh.
The more you look, the more you see behind it and the more you remember how pure and perfect and holy he used to be (along with you), and then his arms are around your waist and your hand brings his neck forward. You kiss him harshly, roughly, trying to get past the human, all to human taste of his vessel and find him, the Lightbringer, the only one you’d follow to the end.
The one you worked so hard to leave that island for, and harder since you knew that he was free.
(The island isn’t there anymore. Like anyone that was on it. You don’t care. You really don’t.)
His clothes fall under your hands, frail and torn and imperfect as his flesh, and then yours are just gone.
Right. He never was particularly patient.
You’re in a bedroom in some abandoned house (Pestilence was taking a walk near here last day, he whispers in your ear when you take a second to eye your surroundings), and then you fall into the unmade bed. It feels welcoming, after centuries, after millennia of not sleeping and earth and everything but, and you might not be human but you know how to appreciate comforts. Lucifer’s hands dig into your back and push you down as he grinds against you. The friction is delicious, the feeling of his teeth biting into your shoulder is, too, and if there’s something wrong about being constricted to flesh (him, at least; you still could turn into smoke, but you really don’t want to, not when it’s easier like this) then it’s lost in the fire inside his mouth and in the wicked way his tongue moves as it battles with yours. You bite down on his lower lip and the skin is so frail that it draws blood, but he moans, saying that it really had been too much time, really too much, and you agree silently as you savor his taste.
Your hand reaches down where he’s hard and shifting his hips in a way that is nothing but sinful, and wouldn’t he know that, and then you slowly, slowly start to jerk him off (nothing like what happened with Jacob once each few centuries; that was rough and harsh and release, and after each time you just hated each other more than before).
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You fuck him down into the mattress as his body meets yours and his grace blesses you in a way that is nothing short of unholy (the noises he makes can’t be holy, the way his cock hardens in your grip can’t be either, and his whole self isn’t anymore and you both don’t care, because in Heaven it could never feel like this) as it threatens to swallow you.
You look at the shadow his true form in the eyes, which merge with the vessel’s and then are separate and then merge again, and as you feel closer, you grab his frail, human hand and push it against the pillow.
His fingers grip yours in a tight, deathly grip (for anyone else; not for you) and as you let yourself go and he does, too, you speak his name in your true voice as he speaks your name in his, and all the windows shatter and you finally, finally know real ecstasy.
You’re sure he already did know, but then again, he always was the one leading you even if he was good at pretending he never did.
--
You don’t feel the chill as you lay on the bed. Lucifer’s grace is gone now, back inside that poor, imperfect union of bones and flesh and nerves and blood. Strangely, though, now his vessel is in a much better condition.
“What about that?” you ask.
“It seems like letting my Grace free had an healing effect. I suppose it will last for a while.”
You nod, and then look at your right hand, still entwined with his left.
You turn and hold your left one out to him.
“I think you have something that was mine.”
Lucifer’s smile would seem downright devilish to humans, and maybe it’s not too far from the truth, but really. You can’t possibly be scared by him. And especially not now when you finally, finally get to be yourself again.
You’re both suddenly dressed again, and he reaches down into his shirt’s pocket.
He holds the ring out to you and places it in your palm.
You take it and remove your hand from his in order to push it down on your finger and as you do, it finally feels like everything is falling into place.
You close your eyes and let a minute pass.
When you open them again, you meet his stare.
“Welcome back, War,” he whispers, and the feeling of rightness swelling up in your chest is so strong that for a second you feel overwhelmed.
Then it’s gone and there’s nothing else you can do except asking him what are the plans and hear him as he tells you how you’re going to turn Earth back into paradise.
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(Except for the whorehouse deal but hey, I mean. ;) )
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