whatwas | (no subject)

"When was the last time with me?"

He has a long memory, but little details like dates are scant.

"Four years."

He smiles, as the four year old in question races across the hall upstairs, little feet slamming on the carpet.

Lucifer lets her draw on the walls, and he hears her settle in to finish a masterpiece in her bedroom.

"Four years," he echoes.

He looks down at Break and lazily slides his hand inside his shirt.

"Too long."

"Mind-"

He orders him, firmly, nodding at their second oldest on the couch.

"She won't mind."

Lucifer will have her nap, peacefully dreaming of lollipops and unicorns.

"Tch. You know the rules."

Pulling away.

"We can make our own rules now."

Laws of physics, time, nature--they get to bend or break or recreate them at will. Surely, Lucifer's look cajoles, they can remake this little house rule.

"You can teleport her to bed."

One house rule, there.

"Just this once. And then spell us some privacy."

He touches their daughter gently and she's gone, safely up in her crib. The room is sealed to them, and he turns back to Break.

"Good?"

"What do you want to do to me?"

He asks, curiously, knees parting.

"I want to test what you can do."

He kisses him, hands exploring slowly.

"...The room is sound-proofed. You can top, if you're creative."

He starts with the chains, he'd stolen from that priest all those years ago. Claps once- and they appear in the center of the room, landing with a heavy clink.

Lucifer looks at them, then at Break, curious and waiting for answer. His Grace is green at the edges, burned wings stretching slowly.

"Do you consent to this?"

He checks, softly.

He spreads his hands.

"Whole-heartedly and freely. Though as usual you aren't allowed to brag to your 'friends'." A decidedly devilish wink.

"I have never and would never."

He promises, softly, moving to is foot and cuffing the first one.

Lucifer puts a hand on Break after the cuff is snapped shut, just steadying himself. Restraint is new, and he has rather severe claustrophobia. But he wants this.

He just chains him by the one foot- wrapping the other end around a coffee table leg and locking it off.

Lucifer tugs lightly, to see how it holds. The table will have to be fortified, of course, but he'll let Break handle that.

He pins it down with a flick of his wrist, and steps back, sitting down cross legged just outside of Lucifer's reach.

A quick flick of one fingertip to dissolve his clothes away.

Lucifer glances down; he's not a modest being, and he gives Break a very sly sort of look.

"So do you like the angel way or do you prefer stripping the old fashioned way?"

"There are advantages to both. I like that I can wrap you back up in whatever I want."

Another snap, and he's in a suit. Then nothing. Then a corset, laced up tight.

That one gets a reaction, because it's uncomfortable. He's letting Break top, but Lucifer is not the most gracious bottom ever; he retaliates by flicking sparks of fire at him.

He takes two steps forward, and slaps him sharply across the face.

It's such a dismissive motion.

And there's something different in how Lucifer takes it. Before, it had always made him unpredictably defensive, as if he couldn't quite believe it was all part of a scene.

But now, he looks sidelong at Break, licks his lips.

"I apologize, sir." Sarcasm is a given, but it's more than he's said before. And of course then he ruins it by kissing Break, mingling their Grace.

"Want to do it again?"