Stalker is Such a Harsh Word... I Prefer Valentine
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing, Characters:: Sam/Lucifer, Dean
Warnings: swearing, slash
Summary: Sam receives flowers and an invitation from a mysterious valentine.
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Short one-shot quickly written on Valentine’s Day, unbetaed.
Between the troubles of dealing with one of the most powerful archangels’ attention and Apocalypse looming over them, it was no surprise that the Winchester brothers hardly noticed that the date read 14 February. After ganking a particularly nasty group of slimy water-monsters sent by the Devil Himself, Sam and Dean wanted nothing more than to sleep of the disturbing memories. According to Castiel these “gifts” from Lucifer were meant to demonstrate his respect for the brothers’ (mostly Sam’s) abilities and among angels meant an invitation to ally in war. They didn’t bother asking what the appropriate answer would be, instead settled with an indirect “fuck you” in the form of stabbing the demon lackey accompanying the monster before he could grumble off the “Declaration of Intent”, as Cas called it. It was enough hearing that lengthy bullshit once, thank you very much.
Therefore when on the morning of 14 February, the Sun rose quietly to find the boys still wrapped in the cheap motel blankets, no one could blame them for putting the Apocalypse out of their mind for a few hours of blissful sleep.
At least until the courier knocked on their door loudly.
“Sam...” Dean groaned from the depth of his bed, determined not to leave the comforting warmth until absolutely necessary. And if that meant making his little brother answer the door, so be it.
After a moment of grumbling, Sam snapped “Geez, I’m coming!”, both at his brother and the man knocking impatiently on the door. A quick glance at the bedside clock confirmed it was way too early - not even 9 o’clock - and without bothering to change out of his boxers and T-shirt, Sam got up and made his way to the door.
“Delivery for Sam Winchester.” the bored voice drawled as soon as the door opened and he thrust the large bouquet of flowers and the small white box into Sam’s unsuspecting hands.
“Sign here.” he said, holding up a notepad and pen for the hunter who just blinked at the other man stupidly, arms filled with the flowers and the box.
After an impatient grunt, Sam gathered his bearings and holding the strange gifts in one hand, quickly scribbled a fake signature onto the pad and before he could wonder what the hell was going on, the delivery guy already turned around and left, obviously displeased with having to deliver flowers to some random guy in such a cheap motel room.
“What the hell Sam, got a secret admirer?” Dean asked sitting up in his bed, the unexpected gift making him curious and wary.
“I have no idea.” Sam sighed and closed the door, walking back into their room. He placed the bouquet and the box on the small table by the wall and waited for Dean to walk to his side before asking.
“Do you think they might be dangerous?”
Scowling, Dean eyed the presents. They seemed perfectly normal but that never meant they were safe too. Carefully prodding at the petals he looked over at Sam. “Anything in there you recognize as poisonous or linked to pagan gods?”
“No, they are just common flowers.” he replied, reaching out for the card hidden in the bouquet. “‘Johns & Co. Flowers and Gifts’. Looks common enough.” he said, reading the back of the small paper card, checking the address and phone number of the company to make sure they didn’t seem fake. It looked like a local business in the town they were currently in but Sam wasn’t sure if that should calm him or make him even more suspicious.
“At least your admirer has taste.” Dean mumbled over a mouthful of chocolate.
That caught Sam by surprise and he looked up to see that Dean opened the white box forgotten on the table and found that it was actually a box of chocolate. A box of very expensive and tasty chocolate, by the looks of it. Without bothering to comment on the foolishness of eating something that they didn’t know the origins of, Sam opened the card and read the message in it.
Be mine.
Forever and always.
Your secret admirer.
It was simple and horribly clichéd and the printed text provided no clue whatsoever about the sender’s identity. Groaning in frustration, Sam was about to throw the card away when Dean’s surprised noise drew his attention.
“‘Meet me at 7.’ There’s an address too, it’s local.” the older man said, holding a piece of paper in his hand which must have been in the chocolate box. “Dude, looks like you got yourself a date.” Dean smirked in his lazy, goofy way, tossing the card to Sam who caught it with one of his spectacular bitchfaces.
“And that’s not suspicious at all.” he scowled. “There aren’t many people who know where we are and even less who would send such a gift. I think it’s a trap.”
“Dude, loosen up! It’s just a gift. Might be from the shy chick we saved yesterday. She seemed pretty eager to thank you, if the way she fainted when you looked at her was any indication.”
Sam stopped for a moment to consider that. True, there was this girl they saved from the water-monsters and he did tell her where they’re staying at one point. Well, he supposed he might have told her their real names too.
“There’s no proof it is her.” he said, stubborn being the Winchester way after all.
“You can always go and see. If it’s some creepy old dude, you’ll just punch them in the face. But if I’m right then you get laid tonight and believe me, you need a good lay.”
“And if it’s a demon?”
“Then you’ll gank them.” Dean shrugged simply.
Frowning, Sam looked at his brother; there was something he was missing there. “You seem way too eager to send me away.”
“Dude, it’s Valentine’s.” At Sam’s blank look, he continued. “Imagine all those lonely single ladies at the bar tonight.” Dean winked and walked into the shower, deeming the argument settled.
Sam exhaled slowly and considered his options. He could use some time off and the girl was pretty cute. After all, what was the worst that could happen? It’s not like Lucifer invited him to a Valentine’s date.
~
Lucifer fucking invited him to a Valentine’s date.
Although Sam had a gun, a silver blade and Ruby’s knife hidden in his clothing, as well as a bag of salt in his pocket, they all were pretty useless against the Devil.
Sam idly wondered whether thinking ‘It’s a trap!’ would be clichéd.
“I’m glad you came.” Lucifer said after a good ten minutes passed in silence, Sam just staring at the man in front of him in a mixture of shock and resignation.
“What do you want?” Sam asked coldly. He wondered if he could just turn and simply walk away but he doubted that Lucifer would let him. All niceties aside, he was still Satan.
“I just want you to come with me. I have prepared something for you.” the angel answered simply with a pleasant smile on his face. However, there was still a glint of danger in his eyes, so Sam decided to go along for now and escape at the first chance he got. As long as he didn’t agree to Lucifer riding him for the big showdown, he should be okay, right?
~
The setting was sickeningly sweet, almost as if ripped from a romance novel written for middle-aged women hitting menopause. There was a small round table in the middle of the room, covered with a simple but fine-looking wine red material, the rose petals scattered on it almost invisible. There were two white sticks of candles lit in the middle, providing the only source of lightning in the room. Lucifer even pulled the chair out for him and Sam had to consciously stop himself from rolling his eyes at it.
Sitting down opposite him, Lucifer raised the filled wine glass and looked at Sam expectantly, glancing at the boy’s own glass as a hint. With a deliberate slowness, Sam raised his glass and clinked it with Lucifer’s, the rich-coloured red wine sloshing around a bit at the movement. After watching the other man take a sip, Sam tasted the wine himself, not surprised when he found that it was a very good, probably expensive wine.
“You seem tense.”
Sam scowled at the observation, of course he was tense, he was having a romantic dinner with Satan after all.
“Is this not to your liking?” Lucifer asked and if Sam didn’t know any better, he would have said the archangel looked concerned, almost worried.
“It’s... fine.” and strange and creepy. But Sam decided to keep that opinion to himself. He only belatedly realized that Lucifer can read his thought anyway but when he looked at the angel’s face, he only saw relief. Almost as if he completely ignored Sam’s thoughts and decided to only listen to what he actually said.
“Is this some kind of act? That I have to play?” he asked with a frown, too spooked by the whole ordeal to care about survival instincts.
“Act?” Lucifer echoed, clearly confused by the question.
“Yeah, all this...” he said, making a large hand sweep to indicate the room around them. “this date.” he added, the word feeling sour in his mouth. “Making it look normal.”
“I am merely following your traditions.” The archangel answered, his face calm but his voice tinted with a hint of disappointment. “It is my understanding that this is considered as accepted conduct during St Valentine’s Day.”
Sam stared at his companion in confusion for a long while, a number of possible ulterior motives Lucifer might have running through his mind but each and every one of them seemed unreasonable. After a lengthy silence, Lucifer frowned, that strange concern-like look flashing across his face again.
“Am I doing something wrong?” he asked and Sam didn’t know where to start to explain the sheer impossibility of the situation so he opted for silence again. He couldn’t understand why Lucifer insisted on verbal confirmation all the time. However his answer came soon enough.
“What are you thinking of?” the Devil asked suddenly, schooling his features to hide his annoyance.
“Can’t you, you know... read my thoughts?” Sam asked carefully, wondering whether it was just all a bait to trick him into letting Lucifer into the privacy of his mind indirectly. If so, he was playing right into it, he thought with a slight frown.
“I can, but...” Lucifer almost looked uncomfortable there. “it came to my attention that in your culture it is considered.... impolite.”
That was it, now Sam was sure this was some fucked up dream he was having. Satan not reading his thoughts out of politeness?! The insanity finally getting to him, Sam laughed out, only fuelled on by Lucifer’s bewildered expression. For a good few minutes he went on, letting the laughs shake his body and he could feel some of his nervous tension leaving him at last. If the Devil wanted to play this crazy role-play then he might as well humour him, it wasn’t like the situation could get any weirder at this point.
Lucifer stared at Sam laugh as a slow dread crept up his spine with each passing minute. He wasn’t one to feel insecure but human traditions confused him and he never really cared enough to understand them. But now here he was, trying his best to please his vessel in a way acceptable by the human’s culture as the angelic traditions obviously didn’t have the desired effect.
After a while though Sam calmed down and he looked at his ‘date’ with a spark of amusement in his eyes. “Don’t worry, I think you’ve got the hang of it.” he said, answering the angel’s previous question. He raised his glass and after Lucifer followed suit he clinked their glasses together again. “So what are we drinking for?” he asked.
Lucifer looked surprised for a moment but then quickly became thoughtful, considering the question. “To you and me.” he answered, the hint on uncertainty in his voice almost unnoticeable.
Sam chuckled at the clicheness of that but it seemed strangely appropriate at the moment. “To you and me.” he repeated and took a gulp of his wine. You and me. As two separate beings. I could drink to that.
“I have prepared dinner for you.” Lucifer said suddenly and placing his empty wine glass on the table, he stood up and walked to a door in the corner. Sam was surprised to see that it lead to a kitchen and Lucifer soon emerged with two plates in his hands. Setting one in front of the hunter, Sam was amazed that it was a neatly arranged dish of smoked salmon with some herbs.
Glancing up at the angel, Sam saw that Lucifer was watching him expectantly. “Erm... Did you make this yourself?”
“Yes. As this is the tradition.” Lucifer answered, picking up his cutlery.
“Ah, yes, it is. Well, it is one tradition...” Sam muttered, following suit and taking a bite of his starter. It was surprisingly tasty.
“One?” the angel asked with a confused expression.
“Well, yes. There are many traditions and most people still don’t follow any just make up their own. Especially with Valentine’s Day, there’s just no fixed way of celebrating it.”
“Really?” the angel looked honestly surprised. “I was mistaken then. The Prophet Chuck gave me the impression that this was the only acceptable way of celebration.”
Sam snorted at that. “Chuck? You asked Chuck?” he had to admit, the image of Satan himself asking the scrawny prophet for Valentine’s Day tips seemed hilarious. In a bizarre way.
“Yes. He seemed like the ideal person to turn to.” Sam decided not to contradict that statement. He doubted the angel would understand the wrongness of that anyway, so he just went back to accepting the home-made dinner he rarely had a chance of enjoying.
~
The rest of the dinner was spent pleasantly with them discussing various Valentine’s Day traditions while Lucifer talked about the actual Saint Valentine the day was named after. For the main dish, Lucifer served steak (kept warm by his angel mojo - the only instance he used non-human methods, he claimed) and for dessert they had strawberry cheesecake. Sam decided not to muse on the angel’s culinary skills and instead got lost in the fine food and wine and the pleasant conversation. After dinner he found himself sprawled atop a comfortable couch that was seemingly placed in the room just for this reason, his legs propped up on the armrest on the far side, Lucifer resting lazily against his chest, the angel’s legs tangled with his own. Honestly, Sam had no idea how they ended up in that position but he had a feeling the generous serving of wine and the glass of cognac they were now sipping played a considerable role.
“So your brother invited Katie on a Valentine’s dinner when he already promised a date to Sarah but then actually spent the day with a stranger he picked up at the bar?” Lucifer asked, honestly mystified by Dean’s antics.
“Yeah, pretty much.” Sam laughed, the normalcy of the conversation putting him at ease and for a moment he could almost forget about all the responsibility on his shoulders. He turned his head and looked at his companion, Lucifer’s head was propped against his shoulder and he was gazing ahead, frowning as he thought about that. From so close he looked scarily human, the only sign of the power he possessed was the scars on his skin where his vessel was melting away. But he was sure if he was to touch that skin he would feel the inhumanity of the angel in his arms, if he was to taste those lips their flavour would be strange and unnatural and that those impossibly blue eyes that were now locked with his own would shine with an ethereal light when filled with passion.
Turns out he was right.
Lucifer’s skin was cold to the touch and hard like marble just like his lips and when he tasted them he felt a sharp, almost painful spark shoot through him. When the angel pulled away suddenly, his eyes were a chaos of lights and shadows, the first hint of true emotion in them.
“What are you doing?” Lucifer asked, an almost panicked expression on his face.
Confused, Sam could only stare at the other man. It didn’t fail to amuse him how the roles changed and now it was him who was wondering if he did something wrong.
“I didn’t mean to upset you, but...” he said. “I thought it was okay, I mean kissing your valentine is part of the package, isn’t it?” he asked, not understanding why after going through all the trouble of setting up a perfect Valentine’s date, Lucifer would shy away from the actual intimacy.
“It... is?”
They stared at each other for a few moments, the pieces finally clicking together. As the awkward silence grew Sam sighed and laughed out, breaking the tension a bit.
“So...” he started. “What was the point of all this then?” he asked, indicating the romantic setting around them. He only now noticed that their cognac glasses ended up dropped onto the floor, the expensive liquid staining the carpet under the couch.
“I gathered that it was the human tradition for Declaration of Intent.” Lucifer answered, his gaze avoiding Sam’s eyes, looking almost... shy.
“Well... that’s kinda true.” Sam said, settling back in the couch, his legs brushing against Lucifer’s as he did so. “But ‘Intent’ in this case means romantic intent.”
“Oh.” was all Lucifer supplied and the silence that stretched on afterwards was slowly turning awkward again.
“We don’t have anything of the kind.” the angel said quietly after a while. “Romance, I mean. We are all brothers and sisters - there is no one angel more important than the other.”
The way he said that made a shiver run through Sam; he haven’t heard anyone talk about romance which such distaste before.
“But...” Lucifer continued, “Nick, my vessel experienced it. He was devoted to his wife and his emotions are... powerful.” As Sam was considering the implications of that, Lucifer snapped his head up, looking straight into Sam’s eyes. “I wish to learn more about it.” he said with a determination that sent chills up the hunter’s back.
“Erm...” was the most eloquent answer Sam could give when faced with such an earnest expression.
“We were made for each other, Sam. I wish to be your companion and ally for the battle to come, the closest bond angels can share. But now I understand why you were resisting my offers. In your culture, we are meant to be joined not in battle but in romance and I am willing follow your traditions if it means pleasing you.”
Sam was rendered speechless by the little confession, not sure how one should react to something like this. But his silence was interpreted as acceptance and Lucifer moved into his personal space again, his hands light and careful as he touched Sam’s shoulders before leaning in to claim his lips again.
The second kiss was remarkably different than the first. The marble-like nature of the angel’s skin softened though the cool chill of it remained. The painful spark his taste ignited lessened as well, turning into a slow, steady burn which was a sharp contrast to cold touch of his lips. Sam was almost lost again in the haze of alcohol and intimacy and taste and power but his hunter instincts were not so easy to overcome.
Pulling away he looked into Lucifer’s eyes, searching for any indications of a trap there. “I never agreed to become your vessel.” he said.
Lucifer sighed, a sad look passing over his face. “I didn’t ask you to. And no, responding to my Declaration of Intent does not imply that you do.” At the hunter’s sceptical look, he continued. “Sam, you are more than a vessel to me. You are the one destined to hold my grace, to be my companion while I walk the Earth. I wish you would accept me as such before letting me in.”
“I will never let you in.” came the automatic answer.
“You will. But for now, do not worry about that, Sam. For now... just indulge me.” Lucifer said and leaned in again, this time pressing his body against Sam’s, his intentions clear.
And although every hunter instinct in him told Sam to push, to pull away, to stop this, his arms wrapped around the angel’s frame and pulled, pushed but never stopped, never stopped.
~
“How was the chick?” Dean asked the next day with a lazy wink, his body language screaming that he had a good night as well.
“It was... interesting.” Sam answered, not yet ready to admit to his brother what happened with Lucifer.
“Interesting.” Dean echoed with disbelief.
“It was the most memorable Valentine’s Day I had.” he added.
“Dude, you’re such a girl.”
“And the sex was great. And long.”
At that, Dean smirked at him approvingly and didn’t press for details, just shut the truck of the Impala and moved to the driver’s seat door.
Yes, Sam thought, it was a great night. Although he refused to think of the implications of it, there was no denying the connection he felt with the Devil the night before and the tingle of his skin as he thought of the possibility of many more such nights spent tangled in the covers.
He briefly considered sending Chuck a thank you gift, with a written threat to never mention this Valentine’s Day in any of his books.
~END~
Pairing, Characters:: Sam/Lucifer, Dean
Warnings: swearing, slash
Summary: Sam receives flowers and an invitation from a mysterious valentine.
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Short one-shot quickly written on Valentine’s Day, unbetaed.
Between the troubles of dealing with one of the most powerful archangels’ attention and Apocalypse looming over them, it was no surprise that the Winchester brothers hardly noticed that the date read 14 February. After ganking a particularly nasty group of slimy water-monsters sent by the Devil Himself, Sam and Dean wanted nothing more than to sleep of the disturbing memories. According to Castiel these “gifts” from Lucifer were meant to demonstrate his respect for the brothers’ (mostly Sam’s) abilities and among angels meant an invitation to ally in war. They didn’t bother asking what the appropriate answer would be, instead settled with an indirect “fuck you” in the form of stabbing the demon lackey accompanying the monster before he could grumble off the “Declaration of Intent”, as Cas called it. It was enough hearing that lengthy bullshit once, thank you very much.
Therefore when on the morning of 14 February, the Sun rose quietly to find the boys still wrapped in the cheap motel blankets, no one could blame them for putting the Apocalypse out of their mind for a few hours of blissful sleep.
At least until the courier knocked on their door loudly.
“Sam...” Dean groaned from the depth of his bed, determined not to leave the comforting warmth until absolutely necessary. And if that meant making his little brother answer the door, so be it.
After a moment of grumbling, Sam snapped “Geez, I’m coming!”, both at his brother and the man knocking impatiently on the door. A quick glance at the bedside clock confirmed it was way too early - not even 9 o’clock - and without bothering to change out of his boxers and T-shirt, Sam got up and made his way to the door.
“Delivery for Sam Winchester.” the bored voice drawled as soon as the door opened and he thrust the large bouquet of flowers and the small white box into Sam’s unsuspecting hands.
“Sign here.” he said, holding up a notepad and pen for the hunter who just blinked at the other man stupidly, arms filled with the flowers and the box.
After an impatient grunt, Sam gathered his bearings and holding the strange gifts in one hand, quickly scribbled a fake signature onto the pad and before he could wonder what the hell was going on, the delivery guy already turned around and left, obviously displeased with having to deliver flowers to some random guy in such a cheap motel room.
“What the hell Sam, got a secret admirer?” Dean asked sitting up in his bed, the unexpected gift making him curious and wary.
“I have no idea.” Sam sighed and closed the door, walking back into their room. He placed the bouquet and the box on the small table by the wall and waited for Dean to walk to his side before asking.
“Do you think they might be dangerous?”
Scowling, Dean eyed the presents. They seemed perfectly normal but that never meant they were safe too. Carefully prodding at the petals he looked over at Sam. “Anything in there you recognize as poisonous or linked to pagan gods?”
“No, they are just common flowers.” he replied, reaching out for the card hidden in the bouquet. “‘Johns & Co. Flowers and Gifts’. Looks common enough.” he said, reading the back of the small paper card, checking the address and phone number of the company to make sure they didn’t seem fake. It looked like a local business in the town they were currently in but Sam wasn’t sure if that should calm him or make him even more suspicious.
“At least your admirer has taste.” Dean mumbled over a mouthful of chocolate.
That caught Sam by surprise and he looked up to see that Dean opened the white box forgotten on the table and found that it was actually a box of chocolate. A box of very expensive and tasty chocolate, by the looks of it. Without bothering to comment on the foolishness of eating something that they didn’t know the origins of, Sam opened the card and read the message in it.
Be mine.
Forever and always.
Your secret admirer.
It was simple and horribly clichéd and the printed text provided no clue whatsoever about the sender’s identity. Groaning in frustration, Sam was about to throw the card away when Dean’s surprised noise drew his attention.
“‘Meet me at 7.’ There’s an address too, it’s local.” the older man said, holding a piece of paper in his hand which must have been in the chocolate box. “Dude, looks like you got yourself a date.” Dean smirked in his lazy, goofy way, tossing the card to Sam who caught it with one of his spectacular bitchfaces.
“And that’s not suspicious at all.” he scowled. “There aren’t many people who know where we are and even less who would send such a gift. I think it’s a trap.”
“Dude, loosen up! It’s just a gift. Might be from the shy chick we saved yesterday. She seemed pretty eager to thank you, if the way she fainted when you looked at her was any indication.”
Sam stopped for a moment to consider that. True, there was this girl they saved from the water-monsters and he did tell her where they’re staying at one point. Well, he supposed he might have told her their real names too.
“There’s no proof it is her.” he said, stubborn being the Winchester way after all.
“You can always go and see. If it’s some creepy old dude, you’ll just punch them in the face. But if I’m right then you get laid tonight and believe me, you need a good lay.”
“And if it’s a demon?”
“Then you’ll gank them.” Dean shrugged simply.
Frowning, Sam looked at his brother; there was something he was missing there. “You seem way too eager to send me away.”
“Dude, it’s Valentine’s.” At Sam’s blank look, he continued. “Imagine all those lonely single ladies at the bar tonight.” Dean winked and walked into the shower, deeming the argument settled.
Sam exhaled slowly and considered his options. He could use some time off and the girl was pretty cute. After all, what was the worst that could happen? It’s not like Lucifer invited him to a Valentine’s date.
~
Lucifer fucking invited him to a Valentine’s date.
Although Sam had a gun, a silver blade and Ruby’s knife hidden in his clothing, as well as a bag of salt in his pocket, they all were pretty useless against the Devil.
Sam idly wondered whether thinking ‘It’s a trap!’ would be clichéd.
“I’m glad you came.” Lucifer said after a good ten minutes passed in silence, Sam just staring at the man in front of him in a mixture of shock and resignation.
“What do you want?” Sam asked coldly. He wondered if he could just turn and simply walk away but he doubted that Lucifer would let him. All niceties aside, he was still Satan.
“I just want you to come with me. I have prepared something for you.” the angel answered simply with a pleasant smile on his face. However, there was still a glint of danger in his eyes, so Sam decided to go along for now and escape at the first chance he got. As long as he didn’t agree to Lucifer riding him for the big showdown, he should be okay, right?
~
The setting was sickeningly sweet, almost as if ripped from a romance novel written for middle-aged women hitting menopause. There was a small round table in the middle of the room, covered with a simple but fine-looking wine red material, the rose petals scattered on it almost invisible. There were two white sticks of candles lit in the middle, providing the only source of lightning in the room. Lucifer even pulled the chair out for him and Sam had to consciously stop himself from rolling his eyes at it.
Sitting down opposite him, Lucifer raised the filled wine glass and looked at Sam expectantly, glancing at the boy’s own glass as a hint. With a deliberate slowness, Sam raised his glass and clinked it with Lucifer’s, the rich-coloured red wine sloshing around a bit at the movement. After watching the other man take a sip, Sam tasted the wine himself, not surprised when he found that it was a very good, probably expensive wine.
“You seem tense.”
Sam scowled at the observation, of course he was tense, he was having a romantic dinner with Satan after all.
“Is this not to your liking?” Lucifer asked and if Sam didn’t know any better, he would have said the archangel looked concerned, almost worried.
“It’s... fine.” and strange and creepy. But Sam decided to keep that opinion to himself. He only belatedly realized that Lucifer can read his thought anyway but when he looked at the angel’s face, he only saw relief. Almost as if he completely ignored Sam’s thoughts and decided to only listen to what he actually said.
“Is this some kind of act? That I have to play?” he asked with a frown, too spooked by the whole ordeal to care about survival instincts.
“Act?” Lucifer echoed, clearly confused by the question.
“Yeah, all this...” he said, making a large hand sweep to indicate the room around them. “this date.” he added, the word feeling sour in his mouth. “Making it look normal.”
“I am merely following your traditions.” The archangel answered, his face calm but his voice tinted with a hint of disappointment. “It is my understanding that this is considered as accepted conduct during St Valentine’s Day.”
Sam stared at his companion in confusion for a long while, a number of possible ulterior motives Lucifer might have running through his mind but each and every one of them seemed unreasonable. After a lengthy silence, Lucifer frowned, that strange concern-like look flashing across his face again.
“Am I doing something wrong?” he asked and Sam didn’t know where to start to explain the sheer impossibility of the situation so he opted for silence again. He couldn’t understand why Lucifer insisted on verbal confirmation all the time. However his answer came soon enough.
“What are you thinking of?” the Devil asked suddenly, schooling his features to hide his annoyance.
“Can’t you, you know... read my thoughts?” Sam asked carefully, wondering whether it was just all a bait to trick him into letting Lucifer into the privacy of his mind indirectly. If so, he was playing right into it, he thought with a slight frown.
“I can, but...” Lucifer almost looked uncomfortable there. “it came to my attention that in your culture it is considered.... impolite.”
That was it, now Sam was sure this was some fucked up dream he was having. Satan not reading his thoughts out of politeness?! The insanity finally getting to him, Sam laughed out, only fuelled on by Lucifer’s bewildered expression. For a good few minutes he went on, letting the laughs shake his body and he could feel some of his nervous tension leaving him at last. If the Devil wanted to play this crazy role-play then he might as well humour him, it wasn’t like the situation could get any weirder at this point.
Lucifer stared at Sam laugh as a slow dread crept up his spine with each passing minute. He wasn’t one to feel insecure but human traditions confused him and he never really cared enough to understand them. But now here he was, trying his best to please his vessel in a way acceptable by the human’s culture as the angelic traditions obviously didn’t have the desired effect.
After a while though Sam calmed down and he looked at his ‘date’ with a spark of amusement in his eyes. “Don’t worry, I think you’ve got the hang of it.” he said, answering the angel’s previous question. He raised his glass and after Lucifer followed suit he clinked their glasses together again. “So what are we drinking for?” he asked.
Lucifer looked surprised for a moment but then quickly became thoughtful, considering the question. “To you and me.” he answered, the hint on uncertainty in his voice almost unnoticeable.
Sam chuckled at the clicheness of that but it seemed strangely appropriate at the moment. “To you and me.” he repeated and took a gulp of his wine. You and me. As two separate beings. I could drink to that.
“I have prepared dinner for you.” Lucifer said suddenly and placing his empty wine glass on the table, he stood up and walked to a door in the corner. Sam was surprised to see that it lead to a kitchen and Lucifer soon emerged with two plates in his hands. Setting one in front of the hunter, Sam was amazed that it was a neatly arranged dish of smoked salmon with some herbs.
Glancing up at the angel, Sam saw that Lucifer was watching him expectantly. “Erm... Did you make this yourself?”
“Yes. As this is the tradition.” Lucifer answered, picking up his cutlery.
“Ah, yes, it is. Well, it is one tradition...” Sam muttered, following suit and taking a bite of his starter. It was surprisingly tasty.
“One?” the angel asked with a confused expression.
“Well, yes. There are many traditions and most people still don’t follow any just make up their own. Especially with Valentine’s Day, there’s just no fixed way of celebrating it.”
“Really?” the angel looked honestly surprised. “I was mistaken then. The Prophet Chuck gave me the impression that this was the only acceptable way of celebration.”
Sam snorted at that. “Chuck? You asked Chuck?” he had to admit, the image of Satan himself asking the scrawny prophet for Valentine’s Day tips seemed hilarious. In a bizarre way.
“Yes. He seemed like the ideal person to turn to.” Sam decided not to contradict that statement. He doubted the angel would understand the wrongness of that anyway, so he just went back to accepting the home-made dinner he rarely had a chance of enjoying.
~
The rest of the dinner was spent pleasantly with them discussing various Valentine’s Day traditions while Lucifer talked about the actual Saint Valentine the day was named after. For the main dish, Lucifer served steak (kept warm by his angel mojo - the only instance he used non-human methods, he claimed) and for dessert they had strawberry cheesecake. Sam decided not to muse on the angel’s culinary skills and instead got lost in the fine food and wine and the pleasant conversation. After dinner he found himself sprawled atop a comfortable couch that was seemingly placed in the room just for this reason, his legs propped up on the armrest on the far side, Lucifer resting lazily against his chest, the angel’s legs tangled with his own. Honestly, Sam had no idea how they ended up in that position but he had a feeling the generous serving of wine and the glass of cognac they were now sipping played a considerable role.
“So your brother invited Katie on a Valentine’s dinner when he already promised a date to Sarah but then actually spent the day with a stranger he picked up at the bar?” Lucifer asked, honestly mystified by Dean’s antics.
“Yeah, pretty much.” Sam laughed, the normalcy of the conversation putting him at ease and for a moment he could almost forget about all the responsibility on his shoulders. He turned his head and looked at his companion, Lucifer’s head was propped against his shoulder and he was gazing ahead, frowning as he thought about that. From so close he looked scarily human, the only sign of the power he possessed was the scars on his skin where his vessel was melting away. But he was sure if he was to touch that skin he would feel the inhumanity of the angel in his arms, if he was to taste those lips their flavour would be strange and unnatural and that those impossibly blue eyes that were now locked with his own would shine with an ethereal light when filled with passion.
Turns out he was right.
Lucifer’s skin was cold to the touch and hard like marble just like his lips and when he tasted them he felt a sharp, almost painful spark shoot through him. When the angel pulled away suddenly, his eyes were a chaos of lights and shadows, the first hint of true emotion in them.
“What are you doing?” Lucifer asked, an almost panicked expression on his face.
Confused, Sam could only stare at the other man. It didn’t fail to amuse him how the roles changed and now it was him who was wondering if he did something wrong.
“I didn’t mean to upset you, but...” he said. “I thought it was okay, I mean kissing your valentine is part of the package, isn’t it?” he asked, not understanding why after going through all the trouble of setting up a perfect Valentine’s date, Lucifer would shy away from the actual intimacy.
“It... is?”
They stared at each other for a few moments, the pieces finally clicking together. As the awkward silence grew Sam sighed and laughed out, breaking the tension a bit.
“So...” he started. “What was the point of all this then?” he asked, indicating the romantic setting around them. He only now noticed that their cognac glasses ended up dropped onto the floor, the expensive liquid staining the carpet under the couch.
“I gathered that it was the human tradition for Declaration of Intent.” Lucifer answered, his gaze avoiding Sam’s eyes, looking almost... shy.
“Well... that’s kinda true.” Sam said, settling back in the couch, his legs brushing against Lucifer’s as he did so. “But ‘Intent’ in this case means romantic intent.”
“Oh.” was all Lucifer supplied and the silence that stretched on afterwards was slowly turning awkward again.
“We don’t have anything of the kind.” the angel said quietly after a while. “Romance, I mean. We are all brothers and sisters - there is no one angel more important than the other.”
The way he said that made a shiver run through Sam; he haven’t heard anyone talk about romance which such distaste before.
“But...” Lucifer continued, “Nick, my vessel experienced it. He was devoted to his wife and his emotions are... powerful.” As Sam was considering the implications of that, Lucifer snapped his head up, looking straight into Sam’s eyes. “I wish to learn more about it.” he said with a determination that sent chills up the hunter’s back.
“Erm...” was the most eloquent answer Sam could give when faced with such an earnest expression.
“We were made for each other, Sam. I wish to be your companion and ally for the battle to come, the closest bond angels can share. But now I understand why you were resisting my offers. In your culture, we are meant to be joined not in battle but in romance and I am willing follow your traditions if it means pleasing you.”
Sam was rendered speechless by the little confession, not sure how one should react to something like this. But his silence was interpreted as acceptance and Lucifer moved into his personal space again, his hands light and careful as he touched Sam’s shoulders before leaning in to claim his lips again.
The second kiss was remarkably different than the first. The marble-like nature of the angel’s skin softened though the cool chill of it remained. The painful spark his taste ignited lessened as well, turning into a slow, steady burn which was a sharp contrast to cold touch of his lips. Sam was almost lost again in the haze of alcohol and intimacy and taste and power but his hunter instincts were not so easy to overcome.
Pulling away he looked into Lucifer’s eyes, searching for any indications of a trap there. “I never agreed to become your vessel.” he said.
Lucifer sighed, a sad look passing over his face. “I didn’t ask you to. And no, responding to my Declaration of Intent does not imply that you do.” At the hunter’s sceptical look, he continued. “Sam, you are more than a vessel to me. You are the one destined to hold my grace, to be my companion while I walk the Earth. I wish you would accept me as such before letting me in.”
“I will never let you in.” came the automatic answer.
“You will. But for now, do not worry about that, Sam. For now... just indulge me.” Lucifer said and leaned in again, this time pressing his body against Sam’s, his intentions clear.
And although every hunter instinct in him told Sam to push, to pull away, to stop this, his arms wrapped around the angel’s frame and pulled, pushed but never stopped, never stopped.
~
“How was the chick?” Dean asked the next day with a lazy wink, his body language screaming that he had a good night as well.
“It was... interesting.” Sam answered, not yet ready to admit to his brother what happened with Lucifer.
“Interesting.” Dean echoed with disbelief.
“It was the most memorable Valentine’s Day I had.” he added.
“Dude, you’re such a girl.”
“And the sex was great. And long.”
At that, Dean smirked at him approvingly and didn’t press for details, just shut the truck of the Impala and moved to the driver’s seat door.
Yes, Sam thought, it was a great night. Although he refused to think of the implications of it, there was no denying the connection he felt with the Devil the night before and the tingle of his skin as he thought of the possibility of many more such nights spent tangled in the covers.
He briefly considered sending Chuck a thank you gift, with a written threat to never mention this Valentine’s Day in any of his books.
~END~