Work Text:
Eternal Life
I’m holding out my hands and changing
Everything I hate about myself
~
Take me far from me
My worst enemy
I wanna crawl away into eternal life
She’s still on his mind.
She’s always on his mind, but this time it’s different.
“And though I guessed it had come to an end,” Lucifer’s voice is the only thing that sounds throughout his penthouse, singing along to the downbeat tune he’s playing on the piano.
“No one else could have the love we shared.
“Come to me now.
“Don’t let me go.
“Stay by my…side.” He loses his singing voice by the last word and plays the rest of the song without another word.
He’s played countless songs this evening, all of which have been close in relation to his current mood: No surprises, Creep, Desert Song, For What It’s worth, and now Don’t Let Me Go.
Playing keeps his mind focused. It keeps his thoughts (mostly) away from his problems, from whatever he’s trying to hide from.
As of right now, he’s trying to steer his mind away from how much he truly despises himself.
And how much he assumes Chloe despises him, too.
All he can think of is her. How she feels, what she’s thinking, how she might have reacted if the police hadn’t streamed in and taken her away.
It was probably for the best, seeing as how her reaction couldn’t have been anything less of what he deserves: to be punched, shot at, yelled at, told to go to Hell. Whatever Chloe seems fit would be enough.
He takes a sip of his drink and wishes now, more than ever, that he would be able to get drunk off human amounts of alcohol.
Thank Dad he can still get high as normal, he figures.
He takes the joint from the ashtray and puts it back in his mouth, before deciding on another song. Another distraction.
He slowly plays the intro for Would You Love a Creature by Sister, seeing as it feels appropriate.
Remembering these lyrics, remembering Chloe’s face and the terror in her voice when she spoke, it makes him feel even more hatred for himself.
No wonder his Devil-face has returned, what with all the self-loathing recently.
He slips up on one of the notes and it frustrates him more than it should. He brings his fists down on the keys and the noise rings out through the emptiness of the room.
Lucifer stubs out the joint in the ashtray and leaves the piano bench, taking his glass with him to the bar for a refill.
He checks his phone for the hundredth time, tossing it onto the counter without much of a care when he finds no messages still.
He had left Chloe multiple texts after what happened with Pierce, one asking if she was okay since he’s now dead, a few asking if she was okay from the shooting, and the majority of them asking if she was okay with what she saw.
She hasn’t responded. Of course she hasn’t, why would he have assumed she wanted anything to do with him after seeing… that ?
Lucifer opens the bottle and pours the liquid into his glass. There’s half a bag of cocaine on the counter, too, but he doesn’t want to give Chloe any more reasons why she should stay away from him, so he hasn’t touched it since, well, last night.
He downs his drink in one and places it back on the counter, pouring out another.
He takes this one back to the piano with him and sits back down, beginning to play the start of Creep.
He closed Lux for tonight, so he can sit upstairs in self-loathing without the distraction of the upbeat music and crowd of people. He needs nothing more than to be alone.
And of course, the elevator dings behind him just as he thinks this.
It’s nearly one in the morning, so whoever this is, is clearly desperate for something.
Lucifer stops playing and turns to view his visitor.
“Detective,” his heart flips in his chest as he sees her. She’s here of her own choosing, even after she’s seen who he really is, so this must mean she isn’t scared. And the knowledge that he hasn’t completely scared her off is the most relief he’s had all night.
“What are you doing here?” he asks. She’s still wearing the same outfit from today, so she either hasn’t been home yet, or hasn’t had time to change. She’s probably been too busy trying to come to terms with the Devil thing. And the thought of her, alone at home, upset, fills him with more self-loathing.
“I’m…here to see you,” she says.
“Are you,” he hesitates, since it’s such a stupid question to ask. “Okay?”
“I don’t know,” she admits. “I mean, I’m fine physically, the bullet did nothing. And I couldn’t care less about Pierce.”
“Right.” he doesn’t say more because her answer means she has in fact read his texts but chose not to respond.
“But Lucifer, this is all so… much . I mean, it’s not as if you were hiding anything, you’ve always told the truth. I just…never thought it was real .”
He turns away from her to pick his drink up from its place on the piano and stands, once again heading back to the bar.
“We’re still partners, though, Lucifer,” she says. “Regardless of who you may or may not be.”
He takes a new glass and pours two drinks this time.
“Well, I’m pleased that’s the conclusion you’ve come to,” he tells her, thankful that she doesn’t hate him. After all, he really doesn’t want to scare her off, least of all upset her.
Lucifer reaches towards her to hand the drink and she ever so slightly moves away, and his stomach drops. He feels a new level of hatred for himself, and it makes him want to throw up. Of course he’s scared her, what was he thinking?
He places the drink on the counter and turns away from her. He can feel himself burning with anger and hatred and regret and guilt that he feels his vision blur and he’s either got that ‘look’ in his eyes or he’s going to cry, neither particularly helpful right now. And especially not around the Detective.
“Lucifer,” she says, regret heavy in her voice, but it doesn’t matter. He’s well aware of how she truly feels and he doesn’t want to upset her further, so he keeps his back turned on her as he heads up the stairs into his bedroom.
“Lucifer, I’m sorry, I didn’t-”
“It doesn’t matter, Detective,” he calls, the hurt in his own voice obvious to both of them. “You should leave.”
He sips his drink in silence and tries to hold back his emotions. Tries to silence his thoughts. Tries to ignore the anger he feels towards himself even as it eats away his insides.
“No,” she says, and this makes him turn.
“What did you say?”
“I said no,” she repeats. “I’m not leaving, not until you know how I really feel, because all you have is assumptions, and I can’t just leave knowing that you think I’m scared, or upset, because I’m not.”
“Then what do you feel, Detective?” He asks, and he really can’t keep his feelings inside anymore. He heads back to where she’s standing as he talks.
“Because honestly, I despise myself for what happened. I hate that I hurt you, I hate that I’ve brought these… feelings onto you. I hate myself for what I am,” he swallows the last of his drink before continuing.
“And I definitely don’t blame you for feeling the same way.”
He’s standing roughly a meter away from her now, and he places his glass back on the counter.
“Lucifer, I don’t…” she closes the distance between them and she puts her hand on his cheek. He swallows, now allowing himself to cry.
“I just don’t want you to hate me.” he admits.
“I don’t hate you,” she says immediately, tears streaking across her own face. “I could never hate you. I was just confused, and I needed a couple hours to come to terms with this, but Lucifer, the truth is…I love you. And nothing will change that.”
“Chloe…” any and all resentment he held for himself completely vanishes and he’s left feeling nothing but love . He never realised he could feel this way, he never felt he deserved to feel this way, but somehow he is.
And he’ll do anything and everything to show it.
He leans in closer and presses his lips to hers, pouring all his pent up feelings for her and about her into this one kiss.
Chloe responds in same, pulling him closer to her. Lucifer pushes her up against the counter and kisses her deeply, before breaking apart to help her onto it.
She pulls him back to her and kisses him again, parting her legs so he can stand closer to her. She runs her hands through his hair and tugs slightly when he places his hand on her thigh. The smallest hint of pain sends shivers through Lucifer’s body and he wants her even more.
“You’re incredible,” he breathes, in between the kisses he places on her neck. “And I love you too.”
Chloe hums contentedly and places her hand over his, moving him closer to where she wants him.
Lucifer unbuttons her jeans and slides them down to her knees. He teases her over her underwear while he continues to kiss her neck, jaw, and back to her lips again.
She groans into his mouth and grinds against his hand.
“Lucifer, please,” she says as he pulls away.
“What do you desire, Chloe?” he jokes.
“You’re such an asshole,” she laughs.
“If that were true, you wouldn’t be here.” he quips, and as she’s busy thinking of a retort, he slides his hand into her underwear and starts to stroke her clit.
“Fuck,” she moans, pressing her nails into his head. He’s never been happier that he’s vulnerable around her, because the pain she’s causing feels so damn good.
Lucifer uses his free hand to tug her underwear down all the way, sending them and her jeans onto the floor. He adds another finger to her clit and applies more pressure to his movements.
Chloe’s hand cups his jaw and she brings him back up to her for another kiss that leaves them both breathless.
Lucifer ventures further down and slides a finger inside her, receiving a moan from her that arouses him further.
“This okay?” He asks.
“All good, yeah,” she says, and he believes her.
He allows her a moment to adjust to the feeling before adding another, smiling to himself at the sensation of her nails once more pressing into his neck. He’s never been able to experience pain during sex, so this is a brand-new experience for him, and an incredible one at that.
He gets her worked up, just enough so she’s close but still needs more, and he removes his fingers.
Before she can complain, his mouth is on her clit and he’s tasting every part of her that he can reach, eliciting a deep groan from Chloe. Her hands find the back of his head and hold him in place, so he can’t back away at the last second.
She’s already incredibly close, so it doesn’t surprise Lucifer when she tenses beneath him and moans his name nearly twenty seconds later. He prolongs her orgasm and only starts to slow down when he hears her ragged breathing and feels her hands loosen their grip on his hair.
He cleans his mouth as Chloe pulls his head back up to eye level, not getting the chance to say anything before she kisses him deeply and her hands work on unbuttoning his waistcoat.
“You know,” she starts once they break apart for air. “For a guy who has a lot of sex, you wear a lot of clothes.”
He laughs.
“Yes, well, sex or no sex, I still have a dress sense.”
She slides the waistcoat off his shoulders and it falls to the floor beside her jeans.
She pulls him back for another kiss while she unbuttons his shirt, running her hands down his chest as Lucifer shrugs it off. Her hands settle on his belt and she looks at him, a silent ask for consent, he understands.
Lucifer responds by brushing her hair out of her face and behind her ear, before reaching down to cup her jaw.
Chloe removes his belt and strokes his erection through his trousers, sending all sorts of pleasure through his body.
Lucifer takes his hand away from her face and helps her off the counter, holding up his hand for her to take before leading her up the stairs to his bed.
Chloe surprises him by pushing him down onto the bed, his back against the headboard, as she climbs on top of him. She kisses him while grinding down on his dick, and he wants nothing more than to let her do whatever she pleases. Whatever she desires. He wants her to have complete control over him, it feels so damn good .
She pulls apart to run her hands down his chest again, across his stomach and back to his crotch. She strokes him over the material and he groans, needing more. Wanting more.
She pulls his trousers down and takes his shoes and socks off in the process. He’s never felt so hard in his life, and she hasn’t even touched him yet. It’s…incredible. She’s incredible.
Chloe figures this out, and instead of reaching to touch him like he’s wanted ever since they started, she slowly starts to unbutton her own shirt.
“Chloe,” he says, his breath unnatural and ragged. Her shirt is tossed onto the floor and he reaches up to her back, undoing the clasp of her bra and pulling it away from her.
Lucifer’s hands feel every inch of her body that he can reach. She’s always so damn beautiful, and he loves her .
Not only does he love her, she loves him.
Chloe feels her hand up his thigh and takes his dick in her hand, her loose strokes causing him an unwanted amount of longing and desperation.
Lucifer tilts his head back against the headboard and thrusts into her hands to attempt to gain more pressure, more friction.
Chloe gets the message and tightens her grip, but keeping her movements slow. She draws out an orgasm so it’s near but far away, content at watching him fall apart in desperation to her touch.
“Chloe,” he breathes again.
“What do you desire, Lucifer?” she asks, just as he did earlier but with a seriousness to her voice.
“I want…” he starts. He needs to tell her, he has a strong inner longing to tell her what she wants to hear, he can feel the truth being pulled from him.
Is this how it feels?
“I want…I want you to fuck me, I want you to do whatever you want to me. I want you in control.”
Chloe kisses him and removes her hand from his dick while Lucifer ignores what just happened.
She lifts her hips up and positions herself over him, easing her body onto his dick.
“Fuck,” he hisses, finding more pleasure in this simple action than he’s found in his various other sexual encounters.
“You good?” she asks.
“I should be the one asking you that, Detective,” he smiles and she laughs.
Chloe starts to move her body and Lucifer sucks in a breath, his eyes falling shut and head hitting the headboard as the sensation completely overwhelms him.
He places his hands under her thighs to support her better as she brings her body back down on him, eliciting more moans from Lucifer. He, honestly, has never been more impressed by her in their time together, and she keeps impressing him further as the night goes on.
She finds the perfect rhythm in no time, increasing her speed and bringing both of them nearer to release every second.
“Fuck, Chloe, you’re so good. So special.”
“Keep talking,” she says, before resting her head on his shoulder and kissing his neck as her thrusts become frantic and desperate. Lucifer discovers something new, something exciting.
Does the Detective have a praise kink?
Well, there’s really only one way to find out, and so he puts his new theory to the test.
“Love how good you feel, love how good you are to me. You’re so beautiful, so, so special, you deserve the world. I want to give you all you deserve, Chloe. I love you.”
“Fuck,” she breathes, thrusting her hips down with more force now as she chases what she’s desperately wanted all evening.
Lucifer brings his hand to her clit and rubs her a couple times, and that’s all she needed.
“Shit, Lucifer, I’m- fuck, I’m gonna-” She chokes, before her orgasm hits her like a freight train and she’s tensing above him. Lucifer takes control and continues to thrust into her as she comes, lengthening her orgasm and finally coming himself.
He can’t speak, instead he’s completely overwhelmed with a brand new feeling of pleasure and he feels his eyes burning in a good way, and he closes them in case Chloe recovers before him.
It’s a while after before they’re both finished, and an even longer while after that until they’re both able to speak again. Chloe keeps her head buried in his shoulder and Lucifer rests his hand on the back of her head, his other lower on her back.
Lucifer’s never felt like this before. Usually it’s the sexual activities he favours, but laying here with Chloe peacefully resting on top of him, the warmth of her body against his, he feels better than he’s ever felt. He feels truly loved, and he knows this is the feeling he feels so intensely as of right now.
Chloe reaches her hand up to cup his face and that’s what promptly startles him out of his reverie.
“You okay?” She asks. She’s sitting upright again.
“I’ve never been better,” he says, smiling. She responds with a smile of her own before kissing him.
She lifts herself off of Lucifer and they both attempt to hide the pleasurable pain of overstimulation with muffled groans, neither of them successful. She lays down on the other side of the bed and Lucifer pulls the sheet over her as he lays down beside her, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her closer.
“Did you mean what you said?” She asks after what feels like an hour but may as well have been ten minutes.
“Of course. I don’t lie, Chloe, especially not to you.” He says, and he feels inclined to double check her own feelings. “Did you mean what you said?”
“What do you mean?”
“When you said you love me. Despite knowing the truth about me, about…what I really am.”
“Lucifer,” she starts, adjusting herself into a sitting position so she can look at him. He sits up, too, anxious for her response.
“I do love you. I don’t care about that stuff, I don’t care that you’re the Devil. I know you see yourself a certain way and refuse to accept that people can love you for it, but you’re wrong. I love all of you, Lucifer, and not in spite of you being the Devil, but because of it.”
“You really mean that.” He says rather than asks, because he knows she’s telling the truth.
She nods. “Of course I do.”
“You accept me for who I am?”
She nods again. “I do.”
Lucifer hesitates for a moment before allowing his façade to burn away, revealing the monster underneath.
“How about now?”
He expects her to recoil, to leave the penthouse and leave him and never return, but she doesn’t move. She doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t back away.
Her hand strokes his cheek and pulls him closer to her, catching him completely off-guard by kissing him. He eventually manages to respond and kisses her back, bringing back his human face before they pull apart.
“I love you either way.” She whispers.
“Thank you,” he whispers back. “For accepting me.” and she can clearly hear the pain in his voice.
“Lucifer, I don’t know what you’re going through,” she starts. “But you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. You aren’t the monster you think you are, you aren’t anything like how humanity has portrayed you.”
Lucifer nods, that feeling of love and affection returning stronger this time.
“I love you. I don’t deserve this.” He tells her.
“You deserve to be happy, Lucifer,” she says. “You really do.”
He smiles at her, the burning feeling of love still churning away inside him and he isn’t hating it one bit.
“I need a drink,” she says, getting out of bed to search around for what he assumes would be any of her clothes. “And then we’re going again.”
Lucifer likes that idea.