fic: Say You Will
Title: Say You Will
Author: lies_unfurl
Rating: R
Warnings: incestuous themes, dubcon, S7 spoilers
Pairings: Castiel/Lucifer
Word Count: 1600
Summary: When Lucifer wants something, he wants it given freely.
Notes: Originally posted here at spnspringfling. Title is taken from a Fleetwood Mac song (that has a completely different mood than the fic, but).
"I hurt you once, sure, but now? There are just so few of us left now." A hand on his chest, and then: "You know I wouldn't take from you. I wouldn't hurt you."
*
Castiel Milton first kisses the man he only knows as Lucifer at nighttime, up against the hard brick of the university library's side. He keeps one hand on Lucifer's face, the other pressed against the wall, and when they finally pull back, he notices that the brick has left a sandpaper pattern imprinted on his palm.
His lips are still tingling from the kiss as he stares down at Lucifer, who's leaning against the building with a smarmy smile spread out on his face. "For someone who pretends to be all icy, I gotta say, you burn pretty hot, Castiel."
He turns away, swipes his lips with his tongue and tasting the saliva of the other man. This was a mistake. Lucifer is - is -
Lucifer is fire and ice; maybe he and Castiel room here; Lucifer has three brothers and Castiel has many more; everyone knows that Lucifer is clever and charismatic and charming, and utterly, entirely untrustworthy, while Castiel is silent and cold and will throw his entire self behind any cause he deems worthy of his time. Castiel loathes his roommate's casual disrespect and constant quips. Lucifer seems amused by him. No one witnessing them would be surprised that it is Castiel making the first move, because isn't that what Lucifer wanted all along?
No.
Because this-Lucifer-this isn't real.
*
"A college?" he asks, and his voice is rough and worn from disuse. He doesn't even know if he's speaking aloud or only in his mind. "You really think I'm foolish enough to buy that?"
The devil shrugs, presses two fingers to his forehead. "Maybe this-"
*
Carthage, Missouri, and Castiel is trapped inside a ring of flickering flames while heroes die outside. Lucifer leans in close, and Castiel sees him as he truly is: countless wings the color of flames that start out pure white at the bottom and end with twisting ashen tips; a face that is a giant eagle's one second before it shifts and becomes a snarling lion's, a raging bull's, a goat's. Tendrils of grace a thousand times more intense than Castiel's slip along the writhing form, looking like vines dripping off of Lucifer's decaying vessel.
"We're on the same side," Lucifer says, and he smiles gently. His grace lightly wraps around the ankles of Castiel's body, and he shivers at its touch. "Serve my interests, Castiel, and you'll be helping yourself. It's as simple as that."
"Never," he replies.
Lucifer leans forward so that his vessel's liver-spotted face is an inch from Castiel. He closes his eyes and wills himself to find his center, calm down, stop thinking - but the Morningstar is so very close, and it's just so overwhelming, the power of his form filling Castiel's every sense, and the urge to draw him closer is strong, impossible to resist-
*
"That's not what happened." Is it? He doesn't think so. "You killed two good women that day."
"Hey, I didn't kill them. You might want to talk to your nurse about that." A hand grips his, and he jumps, maybe. It's hard to tell what he does and doesn't do. "How 'bout this? Something you might want to ask Dean about, if Dean ever comes back-"
*
Dean's corpse is lying on the ground, head bent at an angle only the dead are privy to, and Castiel looks away, unwilling and unable to bear the sight. His heart is racing, pounding in his chest, and he's not entirely down from last night's high, but that doesn't matter - there's no one left to criticize him now, to snap at him and tell him how goddamn useless he is when he's popped up on pain killers. No one left who cares-
"Castiel."
His name is spoken as it ought to be, the "-el" left on, the gentle lilt at the end there. He hasn't heard that in a long time. He hasn't felt that presence in a long time, either; that strength, that grace, that fire that burns like the core of the sun, all wrapped up and contained right here on earth.
Sam Winchester's face looks at him, but it's not Sam. He knows who it is, and he goes straight to him, welcomes him in the painfully human way that he's become accustomed to. Beneath his feet Dean is dead, but he's holding Lucifer tight because he's the closest to an angel that Castiel has seen in so very, very long, and he's kissing him, and Lucifer is kissing back, his hand wrapped in a crushing grip around Castiel's shoulder. The roses are bright behind them, the sky above stormy, and the future would be terribly bleak if he bothered to think about it, but all Castiel can feel is an impossibly great relief, because at last, he isn't alone.
*
"That world never existed, and even if it had, it wouldn't have gone like that." He closes his eyes and draws his knees up to his chest, does his best to make himself small. It's a very human gesture, but it's one that he's become accustomed to using over the past week. He finds that his madness sometimes makes him feel cold, and this alleviates it some. "You would never have allowed yourself to be touched by a human. Your pride would forbid it."
"That's your issue?" He chuckles, and Castiel shudders, disgusted. "We can never really fall, little brother. You know that Heaven clings to us, always. Even to me; even after all of that time in Hell, I still burn brighter than any of you haloed sheep up there. But if that's your issue," and then there's a hand resting over his heart, and-
*
He is brightest right before the Fall, all passion and fire and Grace. Castiel fights his hoards with no thought other than to defend the Glory of God burning inside of him.
Before he knows what's going on, he's there in the center, and Lucifer shines before him. An inferno of power, he towers above Castiel, and Castiel feels his every sense be overwhelmed by his presence. He almost falls to his feet; reminds himself at the last minute why he is fighting.
"Youngest brother," Samael's voice rumbles. "Ask yourself, is this what you want? What does God offer you?"
Castiel arches up his wings, lets his strength crackle through him. It's like a spark next to a bolt of lightning, but he gives what he can. "He offers me His love, and I give Him loyalty."
"Do you need God for that?" his brother asks. Castiel feels his Grace brushing against him, gentle, questioning, as loving and kind as he has heard God's to be. "I can give it to you, if you offer me that dedication that fuels you. I can give you more than that, Castiel. You know I can."
Oh, it's tempting. Castiel finds himself drawing closer to his brother, lowering his shields - letting him see what he is made of-
*
"It didn't happen!" Castiel snarls, and the force of his voice surprises him, though Lucifer just looks vaguely amused. That's how he usually looks as he leans against the wall, sprawls over the bed, or otherwise occupies Castiel's cell in the mental hospital. "It didn't and it wouldn’t."
"I'm surprised that you can be so sure about that. I mean, half the time you don't even know what's real and when the crazy's talking." His brother shrugs, feigning an innocence that he is far from able to pull off. "I wouldn't be so confident if I were you, is all I'm saying."
"Why don't you just do what you want?" Castiel asks. He glares defiantly at his brother, knowing that's a sharp contrast to what he's going to say next. "I won't stop you."
"First of all, I wouldn't hurt you. You're one of the few left, Castiel. Times were, you could kill an angel and have ten others come down. Now you're rarer than the dodo bird. Pity, that." The devil shakes his head sorrowfully. "Second? I don't want to, and I don't need to. You're going to come to me eventually. You know what you just saw. Four ways that it happened - and I could show you a hundred more. You'll always initiate it in the end. That's just the way it is."
"Not this time," he vows. "I'd die before I consented to touching you."
And Lucifer reaches over, gently closes his fingers around Castiel's wrist. He shudders, but oh - it feels good. Solid. Real. A weak, pathetic part of him wants more, more than he's ever wanted anything before. "If you say so, little brother."
Castiel closes his eyes. He doesn't let himself look at Lucifer, think about him. Doesn't let himself imagine that one day, he might seek out the comfort of his brother in whatever way possible. Because possible universes aren't actual realities; because he's not so depraved that he would give himself up in body to the devil.
Lucifer laughs quietly, and Castiel knows in some deep, dark part of him that fighting fate is always going to be a losing battle, but oh, he'll try all he can. Until he fails, and Lucifer is there to pick him up.
Author: lies_unfurl
Rating: R
Warnings: incestuous themes, dubcon, S7 spoilers
Pairings: Castiel/Lucifer
Word Count: 1600
Summary: When Lucifer wants something, he wants it given freely.
Notes: Originally posted here at spnspringfling. Title is taken from a Fleetwood Mac song (that has a completely different mood than the fic, but).
"I hurt you once, sure, but now? There are just so few of us left now." A hand on his chest, and then: "You know I wouldn't take from you. I wouldn't hurt you."
*
Castiel Milton first kisses the man he only knows as Lucifer at nighttime, up against the hard brick of the university library's side. He keeps one hand on Lucifer's face, the other pressed against the wall, and when they finally pull back, he notices that the brick has left a sandpaper pattern imprinted on his palm.
His lips are still tingling from the kiss as he stares down at Lucifer, who's leaning against the building with a smarmy smile spread out on his face. "For someone who pretends to be all icy, I gotta say, you burn pretty hot, Castiel."
He turns away, swipes his lips with his tongue and tasting the saliva of the other man. This was a mistake. Lucifer is - is -
Lucifer is fire and ice; maybe he and Castiel room here; Lucifer has three brothers and Castiel has many more; everyone knows that Lucifer is clever and charismatic and charming, and utterly, entirely untrustworthy, while Castiel is silent and cold and will throw his entire self behind any cause he deems worthy of his time. Castiel loathes his roommate's casual disrespect and constant quips. Lucifer seems amused by him. No one witnessing them would be surprised that it is Castiel making the first move, because isn't that what Lucifer wanted all along?
No.
Because this-Lucifer-this isn't real.
*
"A college?" he asks, and his voice is rough and worn from disuse. He doesn't even know if he's speaking aloud or only in his mind. "You really think I'm foolish enough to buy that?"
The devil shrugs, presses two fingers to his forehead. "Maybe this-"
*
Carthage, Missouri, and Castiel is trapped inside a ring of flickering flames while heroes die outside. Lucifer leans in close, and Castiel sees him as he truly is: countless wings the color of flames that start out pure white at the bottom and end with twisting ashen tips; a face that is a giant eagle's one second before it shifts and becomes a snarling lion's, a raging bull's, a goat's. Tendrils of grace a thousand times more intense than Castiel's slip along the writhing form, looking like vines dripping off of Lucifer's decaying vessel.
"We're on the same side," Lucifer says, and he smiles gently. His grace lightly wraps around the ankles of Castiel's body, and he shivers at its touch. "Serve my interests, Castiel, and you'll be helping yourself. It's as simple as that."
"Never," he replies.
Lucifer leans forward so that his vessel's liver-spotted face is an inch from Castiel. He closes his eyes and wills himself to find his center, calm down, stop thinking - but the Morningstar is so very close, and it's just so overwhelming, the power of his form filling Castiel's every sense, and the urge to draw him closer is strong, impossible to resist-
*
"That's not what happened." Is it? He doesn't think so. "You killed two good women that day."
"Hey, I didn't kill them. You might want to talk to your nurse about that." A hand grips his, and he jumps, maybe. It's hard to tell what he does and doesn't do. "How 'bout this? Something you might want to ask Dean about, if Dean ever comes back-"
*
Dean's corpse is lying on the ground, head bent at an angle only the dead are privy to, and Castiel looks away, unwilling and unable to bear the sight. His heart is racing, pounding in his chest, and he's not entirely down from last night's high, but that doesn't matter - there's no one left to criticize him now, to snap at him and tell him how goddamn useless he is when he's popped up on pain killers. No one left who cares-
"Castiel."
His name is spoken as it ought to be, the "-el" left on, the gentle lilt at the end there. He hasn't heard that in a long time. He hasn't felt that presence in a long time, either; that strength, that grace, that fire that burns like the core of the sun, all wrapped up and contained right here on earth.
Sam Winchester's face looks at him, but it's not Sam. He knows who it is, and he goes straight to him, welcomes him in the painfully human way that he's become accustomed to. Beneath his feet Dean is dead, but he's holding Lucifer tight because he's the closest to an angel that Castiel has seen in so very, very long, and he's kissing him, and Lucifer is kissing back, his hand wrapped in a crushing grip around Castiel's shoulder. The roses are bright behind them, the sky above stormy, and the future would be terribly bleak if he bothered to think about it, but all Castiel can feel is an impossibly great relief, because at last, he isn't alone.
*
"That world never existed, and even if it had, it wouldn't have gone like that." He closes his eyes and draws his knees up to his chest, does his best to make himself small. It's a very human gesture, but it's one that he's become accustomed to using over the past week. He finds that his madness sometimes makes him feel cold, and this alleviates it some. "You would never have allowed yourself to be touched by a human. Your pride would forbid it."
"That's your issue?" He chuckles, and Castiel shudders, disgusted. "We can never really fall, little brother. You know that Heaven clings to us, always. Even to me; even after all of that time in Hell, I still burn brighter than any of you haloed sheep up there. But if that's your issue," and then there's a hand resting over his heart, and-
*
He is brightest right before the Fall, all passion and fire and Grace. Castiel fights his hoards with no thought other than to defend the Glory of God burning inside of him.
Before he knows what's going on, he's there in the center, and Lucifer shines before him. An inferno of power, he towers above Castiel, and Castiel feels his every sense be overwhelmed by his presence. He almost falls to his feet; reminds himself at the last minute why he is fighting.
"Youngest brother," Samael's voice rumbles. "Ask yourself, is this what you want? What does God offer you?"
Castiel arches up his wings, lets his strength crackle through him. It's like a spark next to a bolt of lightning, but he gives what he can. "He offers me His love, and I give Him loyalty."
"Do you need God for that?" his brother asks. Castiel feels his Grace brushing against him, gentle, questioning, as loving and kind as he has heard God's to be. "I can give it to you, if you offer me that dedication that fuels you. I can give you more than that, Castiel. You know I can."
Oh, it's tempting. Castiel finds himself drawing closer to his brother, lowering his shields - letting him see what he is made of-
*
"It didn't happen!" Castiel snarls, and the force of his voice surprises him, though Lucifer just looks vaguely amused. That's how he usually looks as he leans against the wall, sprawls over the bed, or otherwise occupies Castiel's cell in the mental hospital. "It didn't and it wouldn’t."
"I'm surprised that you can be so sure about that. I mean, half the time you don't even know what's real and when the crazy's talking." His brother shrugs, feigning an innocence that he is far from able to pull off. "I wouldn't be so confident if I were you, is all I'm saying."
"Why don't you just do what you want?" Castiel asks. He glares defiantly at his brother, knowing that's a sharp contrast to what he's going to say next. "I won't stop you."
"First of all, I wouldn't hurt you. You're one of the few left, Castiel. Times were, you could kill an angel and have ten others come down. Now you're rarer than the dodo bird. Pity, that." The devil shakes his head sorrowfully. "Second? I don't want to, and I don't need to. You're going to come to me eventually. You know what you just saw. Four ways that it happened - and I could show you a hundred more. You'll always initiate it in the end. That's just the way it is."
"Not this time," he vows. "I'd die before I consented to touching you."
And Lucifer reaches over, gently closes his fingers around Castiel's wrist. He shudders, but oh - it feels good. Solid. Real. A weak, pathetic part of him wants more, more than he's ever wanted anything before. "If you say so, little brother."
Castiel closes his eyes. He doesn't let himself look at Lucifer, think about him. Doesn't let himself imagine that one day, he might seek out the comfort of his brother in whatever way possible. Because possible universes aren't actual realities; because he's not so depraved that he would give himself up in body to the devil.
Lucifer laughs quietly, and Castiel knows in some deep, dark part of him that fighting fate is always going to be a losing battle, but oh, he'll try all he can. Until he fails, and Lucifer is there to pick him up.