Fic: Entitlement
Title: Entitlement
Pairing: Lucifer/Gabriel
Rating: PG
Summary: He'll get what he wants, even if he doesn't anymore.
A/N: First actual fic attempt in over a year. Busted out in 10 minutes, unbeta-ed, barely even spellchecked, have mercy, etc.
“You wanted him.”
Silence.
Lucifer’s lips curl into a not-quite-readable smile. Nothing about Lucifer has ever been what it first seems. “You always wanted him.”
“Shut up.”
“From the first moment you saw him.”
Gabriel’s hands are fists at his sides and he still hasn’t done more than stare past him unseeing at the white building behind the roses. He doesn’t want to see Lucifer’s smile on that face. “I said it once, Lucy.”
“What I can’t understand,” Lucifer continues, casually, as if Gabriel hasn’t spoken at all since he arrived - he’s walking in a loose, easy circle around Gabriel, moving way too damn well in that body, the body that he had no right to, even when it had been created for him from the beginning - “is why you didn’t just...” Long, loose fingers stroke over the thin, pale-green throat below a perfect bloom. “Take...”
Gabriel’s flinch mirrors the shudder of the empty stem as Lucifer turns back, rolling the plucked flower - deeper, bloodier red than it should be against his white suit - lightly, idly between his fingertips, like it doesn't matter what he does next. Like he has all the time in the world.
Sam had never moved like this.
Sam had never looked like this. Sam had looked at him with suspicion, with anger, with pleading, raw fear, with bare moments of bitter amusement that Gabriel held close, like secrets, but Sam had never used those eyes to look at Gabriel with pity. “...while you could,” he finishes softly, Sam’s voice but never Sam’s voice.
The petals are silk-smooth against his cheek, rough, insect-bitten edges smoothed away at Lucifer’s wish, and Gabriel isn’t sure how he manages to keep from shuddering forward, away from the hot breath that hits just behind his ear as his older brother leans in.
“You can’t have him now, Gabriel. But...” The rose is almost hideous in its perfection as it falls against the grass without a sound. Every color is too sharp, every sound is too clear. Lucifer’s stroking fingers have found another distraction, another toy in Gabriel’s hair, and the soft skin at the nape of his neck, and there are promises in the smile behind him that Gabriel doesn’t want to name. “You were always so good at playing pretend.”
Pairing: Lucifer/Gabriel
Rating: PG
Summary: He'll get what he wants, even if he doesn't anymore.
A/N: First actual fic attempt in over a year. Busted out in 10 minutes, unbeta-ed, barely even spellchecked, have mercy, etc.
“You wanted him.”
Silence.
Lucifer’s lips curl into a not-quite-readable smile. Nothing about Lucifer has ever been what it first seems. “You always wanted him.”
“Shut up.”
“From the first moment you saw him.”
Gabriel’s hands are fists at his sides and he still hasn’t done more than stare past him unseeing at the white building behind the roses. He doesn’t want to see Lucifer’s smile on that face. “I said it once, Lucy.”
“What I can’t understand,” Lucifer continues, casually, as if Gabriel hasn’t spoken at all since he arrived - he’s walking in a loose, easy circle around Gabriel, moving way too damn well in that body, the body that he had no right to, even when it had been created for him from the beginning - “is why you didn’t just...” Long, loose fingers stroke over the thin, pale-green throat below a perfect bloom. “Take...”
Gabriel’s flinch mirrors the shudder of the empty stem as Lucifer turns back, rolling the plucked flower - deeper, bloodier red than it should be against his white suit - lightly, idly between his fingertips, like it doesn't matter what he does next. Like he has all the time in the world.
Sam had never moved like this.
Sam had never looked like this. Sam had looked at him with suspicion, with anger, with pleading, raw fear, with bare moments of bitter amusement that Gabriel held close, like secrets, but Sam had never used those eyes to look at Gabriel with pity. “...while you could,” he finishes softly, Sam’s voice but never Sam’s voice.
The petals are silk-smooth against his cheek, rough, insect-bitten edges smoothed away at Lucifer’s wish, and Gabriel isn’t sure how he manages to keep from shuddering forward, away from the hot breath that hits just behind his ear as his older brother leans in.
“You can’t have him now, Gabriel. But...” The rose is almost hideous in its perfection as it falls against the grass without a sound. Every color is too sharp, every sound is too clear. Lucifer’s stroking fingers have found another distraction, another toy in Gabriel’s hair, and the soft skin at the nape of his neck, and there are promises in the smile behind him that Gabriel doesn’t want to name. “You were always so good at playing pretend.”