Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"If you don't stop talking," Marcus started, pressing the tip of his cock into him without warning, "I will fuck you dry." While Lucifer's constant flirting and teasing had gotten Marcus in his bed, it was starting to get annoying. Well, not starting. That would imply it wasn't annoying before, and it was. He was convinced the man just liked the sound of his own voice a little too much, much like Narcissus had loved his reflection, or maybe he simply wanted to annoy Pierce. If that was the case, it worked. Lucifer tensed beneath him, visibly, and his hands gripped the fitted sheet until his knuckles turned white, hissing quietly at the pain. He enjoyed every second of it and Pierce knew that. Lucifer wanted to prolong this deliciously painful encounter for as long as he could.

"Shall," Lucifer said suddenly.

"What?" Marcus was caught a little off guard by that. Lucifer sighed, feigning mild annoyance.

"It's 'shall,' lieutenant. 'I shall fuck—'" Lucifer couldn't finish, his own gasp interrupting him as Marcus shoved himself in a little further with more force, causing Lucifer to rock forward on his hands and knees, almost as if he was trying to escape. They both knew better than that, though. Pierce's hand trailed down Lucifer's back, almost soothingly, looking down at his own shaft, about half sheathed in the devil himself. He knew what Lucifer wanted, but he had to make sure.

"You're sure this is what you want? It's going to hurt like this." Marcus was being sincere and it took the devil quite a bit of self-control not to laugh at him for it. He made a point not to mention possible damage or harm it could cause; he knew the devil was invulnerable to injury assuming his beloved detective was nowhere nearby—and even then, any damage done wouldn't be permanent, assuming it didn't result in his death... Perhaps Lucifer should take heed in Pierce's warnings, with him being the first murderer. Lucifer did sleep with his mother, after all. A nasty divorce that was...

But Lucifer wanted pain. He wasn't invulnerable to that, at least. Hell, he craved it sometimes more than he craved pleasure. He wanted it to hurt. Who knew the devil was such a masochist?

So Lucifer replied with what he found most appropriate: "Promise?"

Pierce could almost hear the smirk in his voice. At that, he took hold of Lucifer's hips, and if Lucifer were human, he'd be bruising and immobile, but alas, there's only so much Pierce can do for him. Pierce watched as he inched himself the rest of the way in with some extra force—going at it dry, even as the top, was more difficult than you'd think—not stopping at Lucifer's muffled groans.

By the time he was fully sheathed, Lucifer was panting, a thin sheen of sweat gathering on his back. Marcus stopped, both to admire his work and to ask, "Do you need a safe-word?" He sounded much more collected than a human should in this situation, Lucifer noted. He briefly pondered the many reasons that could be.

Dismissing his thinking brain for the time being, Lucifer replied breathlessly, "Let's go with 'red,'" he paused for a second, considering, then added, "Don't stop unless it's used or you simply don't wish to continue."

Pierce hummed his response and ran his hands, large and warm, up and down Lucifer's back, carefully avoiding where his scars once were. He could feel Lucifer clenching and unclenching around him, his body desperately trying to adjust to the intrusion without any conscious effort, his breathing bordering what could be considered labored. Pierce wondered if it would be possible to make the devil cry, but he wouldn't dare ask. He nearly shook his head at the thought, finding the idea laughable. That wouldn't stop him from trying.

He felt as Lucifer was just starting to relax, his body no longer anticipating the rough treatment. Right before he could fully adjust, Pierce pulled himself out and thrust right back in. Lucifer let out a noise that sounded suspiciously close to a sob, but not quite, as his hands searched for something, anything, other than wrinkled sheets to cling to. From there, he set a rough pace, deciding not to give Lucifer any more time to get used to the sensation. Lucifer's body rocked forward with every thrust and he threw a hand back, as if to catch Pierce mid-thrust and soften the blow, but Pierce just grabbed his wrists and pinned them together in the middle of his back. Lucifer growled at this and tugged at his arms, putting up a bit of a fight, but Pierce didn't let up. If Lucifer truly wanted free, he wouldn't even have to fight. He'd easily pull from Pierce's human grip.

Meanwhile, Lucifer was drowning in the sensations, his neglected cock, heavy and throbbing, bobbing up and down every time Pierce's hips slammed into him, dripping pre-come since the first time Pierce's thick shaft met his prostate. He could feel his eyes burning with unshed tears, refusing to let them spill. Not yet, at least; Pierce had to earn that. The devil had an inkling that might be something the lieutenant was into, and judging by the thoroughly brutal fucking he is receiving, he might just be right. 

Just as Lucifer was beginning to get impressed by Pierce's stamina, his pace started to falter and become slightly erratic. The change was subtle at first, but there's hardly anything Lucifer won't notice when it comes to sex. Lucifer nearly scoffed (and he would have, if he wasn't busy getting fucked into the mattress); it would take a considerable amount of work to get himself off if Pierce quit now. He wiggled his right arm free, grabbed his own cock, and began stroking when Pierce roughly grabbed his hair, yanking his head back. He leaned forward until his mouth was next to Lucifer's ear. "Don't touch yourself. I'm not anywhere near done with you." Lucifer closed his eyes and hummed, almost happily, and obediently let himself go, returning his arm to the previous position. He was right, Pierce was dangerously close to orgasm, but just as it started to peak, he pulled himself out and smacked Lucifer's rear. "Turn over." Shakily, Lucifer did so, meeting the man's stare with his own red-rimmed eyes as he lie flat on his back, legs spread, cock tilted upwards, resting against his belly.

Pierce had a double take at Lucifer's eyes, noticing the signs of unshed tears, and repressed a self-satisfied smile. He was so close. He grabbed Lucifer's hips and pulled him down in the bed, lining himself with his entrance. Lucifer's eyes widened almost gleefully at being manhandled, not expecting it, but loving it nonetheless. "I knew those arms were good for something." Pierce didn't reply, and Lucifer's jaw went shamelessly slack upon Pierce's re-entry, Pierce alternating his gaze between Lucifer's face and the sight of his own cock sliding into Lucifer's hole. When he was once again fully sheathed, he spit into his hand and took a hold of Lucifer's cock, timing the strokes with his thrusts, occasionally running a thumb over the head. "I do have lube, you know. No need to be so barbaric." Pierce just rolled his eyes. 

Lucifer closed his eyes and let his head fall to the side, relishing in this being one of the few times he just sits back and takes what he's given, for once not worrying about pleasing anyone else; Pierce could get off just like that. Don't get him wrong, he loved making himself useful in that way, but this in itself was a rare treat. He could feel himself getting close and he didn't hold back, knowing Pierce was chasing closely after him. That was the perk to being on bottom. You didn't have to wait for your partner to finish first.

Just as his orgasm was about to hit, Pierce's hand clamped down on his cock, not letting him finish. He had impeccable timing. Lucifer's eyes shot open in shock and he groaned, instinctually grabbing onto Pierce's wrist and squeezing. A single tear rolled out of the corner of his eye and he cried out as Pierce released inside of him with a few final punishing thrusts. Slowly, his cock was released and Pierce's poor, bruised wrist was let go as well. Lucifer just blinked, staring angrily at Pierce. He gesture towards his groin. "Now look what you've done. I would've finished. Now I have to—"

Lucifer's angry ranting was interrupted by a moan as Pierce took him in his mouth, bobbing his head a few times, then coming back up with a 'pop' and glancing at his own come leaking out of Lucifer's abused hole. He pressed his fingers against the rim, "Shut up," then he swallowed him back down and pushed two fingers inside, searching for his prostate. Lucifer gasped when he found it and thrust into Pierce's mouth, to which Pierce responded by placing his free hand on Lucifer's hip, to remind him to stay down if nothing else. He'd already died from choking a few times, and it's not a fun way to go. It didn't take too long after that for Lucifer to finally release into Pierce's mouth, which he swallowed without hesitation.

When he came back up, he was greeted by a very placated devil. "I suppose I owe you an apology."

"No, you owe me some quiet time," Pierce replied.

Lucifer hummed. "Very well."

Chapter Text

Pierce groaned, turning his head away from the bright light coming from the open blinds—something Lucifer did, no doubt, having obviously not had his fill in tormenting him. In the kitchen, he heard the devil talking. “It’s a miracle I’m not in a wheelchair after last night, the bloody brute.” His voice was low, hushed, as if he was actually trying to respect Pierce’s need for sleep (despite the curtain situation), but the giddy, shrill giggles that followed clearly weren’t. He moved to sit up, wincing as he put weight on the wrist Lucifer nearly crushed the night before. He looked at it, taking in the deep blues in purples and nearly cringing. It’d heal eventually, but he ought to cover it so not to disturb the guest(s) should they see it before it had the chance. 

From his duffel bag, he pulled out a wrist brace he’d used in the office for his carpel tunnel; he might be immortal, but his body was still human, and with it came average, everyday human problems. He secured it in place, put on some sweats and a t-shirt, then made his way to the kitchen. Lucifer’s eyes met his, then traveled down his arm, finally landing on his wrist. He feigned worry—or maybe it was real—and tilted his head in concern as he regarded it. “Darling, are you alright?”

No, it hurts like a bitch, he wanted to say. Instead, he went with, “I will be. Carpel tunnel. It’s nothing,” then offered a fake smile to his fake husband, which was returned. “Would you make coffee, Dear?” He held up his injured wrist. “I can’t bear much weight on this.” Lucifer’s smile faltered briefly—a hint of guilt, maybe? Was the devil even capable of guilt?

“Of course, Marc. Coming right up.” He stood, then gestured to the table. “Have a seat, chat with our guest. I’ll bring it to you.” The guest, a middle-aged woman from the neighborhood, was staring off with a small smile on her face, seemingly off in her own world. She brought herself back without any outside intervention, her eyes meeting Pierce’s.

“I really should get back to my husband,” she said. At that, Lucifer turned and pouted in her direction.

“No, just a few minutes longer? The coffee will be done in just a minute,” he pleaded. She shook her head.

“I’ve already let you talk me into staying longer than I should have, Luke. My husband is waiting on me outside, but we’ll see you at the barbecue!” She stood, grabbed her shawl, and walked towards Lucifer with arms open. He awkwardly accepted the hug. “Enjoy the fruit basket.” And she was gone.

“She’s not the killer,” Lucifer said. Pierce hummed in agreement. Lucifer offered him a mug, which he accepted, watching as Lucifer sipped from his own. “The detective stopped by last night,” he continued.

“What did she have to say?” Pierce asked.

“Nothing. She didn’t come to the door.”

“Then how did you know...” he stopped himself, then tilted his head, eyeing Lucifer carefully.

“I didn’t realize she was here until I woke up,” he continued, moving to sit (very slowly, gently) on the pillow he placed in the chair across from Pierce. “I didn’t think much about the ache last night, just assumed it was the result of a good, thorough fucking. Assumed, wrongly, it’d be gone by now. How do you lot deal with this?”

Pierce ignored the question. “Do I need to send her on an errand so you can heal?” Lucifer shook his head.

“There’s no real damage. Just sore. No need.” Lucifer’s eyes fell on Pierce’s wrist once again. “What about that?” he asked.

“Just a nasty bruise, I think. I’ll be fine.”

Chapter Text

Lucifer peeled the covers back, the pleasant warmth practically radiating from the bed after a long day of “investigating” (annoying Pierce at every opportunity). He crawled under the covers, pressing himself against Pierce’s back and letting his hands roam sleepily, melting into the bed. His body no longer ached from the night before, no evidence of that remained aside from Pierce’s badly bruised wrist, which he tried not to think about. Pierce roused slightly and pressed himself harder against Lucifer’s front, but it was clear Pierce was still mostly asleep, just reacting to the stimuli provided by Lucifer’s gentle hands. Lucifer pressed a soft kiss into the back of Pierce’s neck and he began to stir a little more. He hummed and turned to meet Lucifer’s eyes, silently questioning him.

“Will I ever get payback for you brutalizing me last night? When is my turn?”

Pierced hummed again, his voice groggy from sleep. “I’m not a masochist.”

To which Lucifer responded, “I’m not a sadist.” Pierce narrowed his eyes, obviously suspicious given Lucifer’s job title, but quickly hid his disbelief (albeit poorly). Lucifer noticed, but didn’t bother addressing it, he’s tired of having to explain himself. Curious, Pierce turned his body to face him, awake now, but still content in bed. He opened his mouth to say something, but Lucifer spoke before he could. “How is your wrist feeling?”

“I’m afraid I can’t give you a hand job.”

“I wasn’t asking for one.”

They stared at each other in silence for a moment, misunderstandings from both sides just floating around in their heads, unmentioned because neither had the energy to bring it up. Lucifer ran his hand from Pierce’s outer thigh up to his hip and began mindlessly tracing shapes into the skin above his boxers with his fingertips, a strangely domestic thing to do. Pierce’s eyes nearly fluttered shut at the soothing actions but instead he moved closer, pressing himself to Lucifer’s body, assuming that Lucifer’s touchy-feely mood was directly linked to lust, not bothering to entertain the flitting thought that Lucifer was simply seeking comfort in a nearby body; the devil doesn’t need intimacy.

Lucifer responded as was expected of him and brought his lips to Pierce’s, and to his surprise, Pierce yielded to him, letting Lucifer take what he wanted. Pierce expected fierce and hungry and submitted to the expectation. He expected “payback” despite the earlier declaration that the devil wasn’t a sadist. He didn’t get that. Lucifer’s lips were as gentle as the fingertips on his hip, the softness and the slowness of it all coming off like an apology. Lucifer slotted a thigh between Pierce’s legs and moved it up until it came in contact with the stiffening member underneath the boxers. Pierce’s hips started gyrating nearly instinctually and Lucifer smiled through the kiss before pulling back. Pierce spoke first. “Exactly what part of this is ‘payback’?”

“Hush, you’ll see,” Lucifer replied. His hand slid between the skin of Pierce’s abdomen and the fabric covering him and slowly, almost torturously so, he pulled it away, exposing Pierce’s proud erection. He wrapped his hand around it and started to stroke, his fist much too loose and too slow. Pierce’s head dropped back to the pillow as he no longer strained to kiss him, letting Lucifer trail kisses down his jaw, neck, and chest and explore as he pleased with his hands. He made his way down Pierce’s body until he could replace his hand with his mouth. Pierce moaned and bucked his hips slightly as Lucifer took him in, his eyes blinked open, having closed themselves at some point during Lucifer’s leisure foreplay.

Lucifer’s eyes were closed, mouth stuffed full of Pierce’s cock, lips shiny with spit. Lucifer bobbed his head, taking him all the way in a few times, enough for Pierce to notice the distinct lack of gag reflex, before popping off and kissing the tip. “Hand me the lube, dear.” And he did. Lucifer took his time flipping open the cap and coating his fingers before his hand disappeared from Pierce’s view. Pierce spread his legs wider and shifted to give Lucifer easier access, which Lucifer wasted no time taking advantage of. Lucifer began circling Pierce’s rim with his middle finger and took his cock back in his mouth at the same time, swirling his tongue along the underside as he gently began applying pressure. It didn’t hurt, but it always felt uncomfortable before it felt good, so the distraction was welcome.

Pierce’s hands made their way to Lucifer’s hair, gently tugging and pushing, manipulating Lucifer to where he wanted him to go. While he was enjoying himself, he still felt groggy with sleep, had no idea what time it was, and honestly wanted to wrap this up so he could go to bed. It was hard to keep himself awake with how soft Lucifer was being. “Hurry up.” Lucifer coughed, probably the result of trying to laugh with a cock in his mouth, then pulled away.

“Are you not enjoying yourself, love?”

Pierce hummed, the warmth of Lucifer’s free hand rubbing his thigh almost lulling him to sleep. “Tired.”

“Would you like me to stop?”

“No—want to finish.”

“Then stay with me. Don’t go to sleep yet,” Lucifer said. He curved the finger buried in his ass and Pierce rolled his hips, moaning, but his eyes still drifted closed.

“‘m trying.”

Lucifer took one of Pierce’s hands and put it back in his hair then took his cock back in his mouth. There was no slowness or gentleness to his new approach; he wasted no time teasing, pressing against and massaging his prostate as he sucked, no longer intending to prepare him for anything bigger due to the slight change of plans. Pierce was just that right amount of tired where his inhibitions were lowered and he had no problem expressing his enjoyment loudly, and Lucifer drowned himself in the sounds, loving every second. It took some effort keeping Pierce focused long enough to get him to cum, but it wasn’t anything Lucifer hadn’t done before, so it wasn’t too long before he was swallowing around Pierce’s cock as the hand on the back of his head held him in place.

When Pierce finally released him, he sat up on his knees and wiped his mouth, his eyes meeting half-lidded ones blinking sleepily at him before slowly flittering closed, a small, satisfied smile at his lips. He admired him briefly, taking a moment to absorb Pierce's softening member and toned form with his briefs still pulled down his thighs, then got up and washed his hands before returning to reposition and reclothe the sleeping man sprawled across the bed (technically Lucifer’s fault) so he could fit, then once again snuggled up behind him in ways you wouldn’t expect from the devil. He was usually the little spoon, after all.