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Bait and Switch

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Sam wakes up on an altar. Which is never a good start to the day. That ranks right along up there with 'waking up in the wrong body' and 'waking up face down on the floor with the slow steady burn of demon blood in his veins.'

He's also naked, so the whole bad day is really just getting worse. He groans out some sort of noise which isn't a word, but probably wants to be. Because he recognises the steady thrum of exhausted shivery looseness in his limbs for the fading echoes of sex magic, and judging by the way the floor and walls are decorated in about a hundred symbols sketched out in blood it wasn't just about the orgasm.

Crap.

He's smart enough to make out about fifteen symbols that are supposed to bind someone's will, ten for obedience and a few that are so disturbing he has to look around for something else to look at before his eyes melt out of his head. Also, the warm press of skin against his back and the edge of his arm tells him he's not alone.

Though he immediately wishes he was, because the second person spread out on the altar is Lucifer. Actual real flesh and blood Lucifer.

Officially the worst day ever.

Lucifer has one leg drawn up and he's frowning unhappily at the symbols on the wall.

Sam shoves himself all the way to the edge of the stone, as far away as he can get without falling off.

"What did you do to me?" he demands.

Lucifer turns to look at him.

"I didn't do anything to you. I was caught up in the spell, the same as you."

"Like I'm going to believe that." Sam's holding on to his anger because whatever Lucifer's done, whatever he's made Sam do, he has to get out of here and find a way to fix it. That's his first priority.

Lucifer shrugs.

"Believe it or not, it's true."

"The only thing I know is true, is that you took advantage of me," Sam says stiffly.

"Actually, I believe you were the one who penetrated me," Lucifer tells him.

"I should have known you were - " Sam's brain comes to an abrupt and messy stop. "What?"

"More than once. The sensation was...interesting." Lucifer curls his hand round his upraised knee, like he finds his own nudity interesting too.

"I didn't," Sam says awkwardly - only he thinks he might have the hazy edge of a memory, of being curved over the solid weight of Lucifer's back and the almost vicious grip of all consuming heat.

He sucks a breath.

Oh Christ.

"I wouldn't have," he protests weakly.

"I believe you enjoyed the position of dominance at the time," Lucifer says easily.

"Oh God, ok, no phrasing it like that please," Sam says, voice too fast, too high. He swallows, and when that doesn't help the thickness in his throat he clears it instead. "I don't remember it. I don't remember...." Which he thinks is a lie.

"You seemed to like it a lot," Lucifer says, head tilted curiously. Sam honestly can't decide if Lucifer's baiting him or whether he's genuinely surprised.

He drags a hand through his hair.

"I was out of my head, why didn't you stop me?"

"You weren't the only one affected by the spell, Sam."

"You're an Archangel, you're telling me you couldn’t just walk it off?"

Lucifer's expression at that is almost disappointed.

"I may be an Archangel but I'm currently also inside a body of flesh and blood. It's capable of want, of need. It was very hard to resist. You were very insistent, Sam." Lucifer nods, like that's a part he remembers very well. Oh God.

Sam rubs a hand over his face. His mouth is sore, like he spent all night kissing someone that had gone too long without a shave and that's a flare of sense memory that makes him drop his hand. Makes him concentrate on something else.

"So, if you didn't, and I'm not saying I entirely believe you. If you didn't, who did this?"

Lucifer sighs.

"I suspect some of my well meaning servants were attempting to bind you to my will. I believe they expected me to claim you during the ritual and leave you completely mine, incapable of resisting, or disobeying my demands."

"Only you didn't - with me - and I - with you," Sam manages.

"You're very eloquent," Lucifer says smoothly, and Sam knows when he's being mocked.

"So I was supposed to be the one -"

"Yes," Lucifer finishes.

Sam thinks this has to rank pretty high under 'employee fuck up of the month.'

"Clearly they didn't anticipate how demanding you would be," Lucifer adds, and his voice is strangely calm again.

Sam blinks, because he seriously doubts this means what he thinks it means.

"So now you're my...umm."

"Yes."

"And you have to do everything I say?" Sam still doesn't quite believe it.

"Something like that." Lucifer lets the words go slowly, reluctantly.

Sam stares at the wall for a very long minute. Holy shit, this does mean what he thinks it means.

"So - the apocalypse?"

"This puts something of a dent in my plans," Lucifer admits. There's a pause where Sam thinks he might actually know what the devil is thinking. "I don't suppose you would let me -"

"No," Sam says immediately with a frown. "No, no taking over the world."

Lucifer sighs and pushes himself upright, all careful elegance and looseness and Sam kind of, maybe, remembers that - he slithers off the altar and finds his clothes, somewhere among the evil demonic ritual paraphernalia.

"I'm going to go," Sam says, taut and sharp, just in case Lucifer tries to keep him here.

"I have to come with you," Lucifer says quietly.

Sam shakes his head while he wriggles his way into his jeans.

"No, absolutely no, you can't."

"I'm yours," Lucifer says stiffly, and it's clear he doesn’t like it. "I have to come with you."

Sam blinks at him in slow dawning horror.

Because Dean's going to be so pissed.