eyemind | this year’s love; closed;

Entry tags:

this year’s love; closed;

WHO: Lucifer and Chloe
WHAT: [ sexy jazz music plays ] Reunited and it feels so good…
WARNINGS: uhhh apart from gross feelings and probably tears??? Smooches???? okay more than smooches this is getting a little steamy we'll mark when it's back to being sfw.

Her room is, ironically, directly above the one he claimed. He’s almost never moved faster in his life, and certainly doesn’t bother knocking or even checking if the door is locked before barging in.

She’s here. She’s here.

“Detective?” He calls, desperate hope and fear writ on his features.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Any time he says her name, not the nickname he’s kept for her all these years, but her actual name, it almost always works on grabbing her attention. His fingers are in her hair and she instinctively leans into his hand, eyes briefly closing. His question is heard and although their faces are still so close, Chloe lifts her eyes to his.

The very first time, there’d been no questions. No room for them. No hesitation. They both knew what they wanted and it had been the right moment, despite her questions and insecurities before. He’d simply offered his hand and she’d willingly taken it.

A small furrow appears between her brows; he’s not so sure? He shouldn’t have to ask. Maybe then it becomes more obvious, what he’d said earlier about being in Hell and somehow ending on the ship.

Chloe touched her fingers to the bared skin beneath his shirt collar as if to indicate him. Him, and then a small shake of her head, the furrow deepening in question as she tilts her head.

He’s not sure about this? You’re not sure?

How could she show him that this was exactly what she wanted? Or perhaps this wasn’t…her Lucifer? Oh, god, should they be sitting and having a talk instead? ]

[ In a moment of clarity, Lucifer realizes that he may be on the path to what Doctor Linda calls "self-sabotage" - again. The circumstances may be far from perfect - but when will they be? There may be questions that need to be answered, but one of them can't even speak right now.

But he knows this: he knows she wants him. Her pupils blown, her breath shallow, her heart rate up, her hands plucking at his clothes. Chloe clearly knows what she wants. And there is nothing, nothing Lucifer wants more than to give it to her. Whether he deserves it - her - or not.

In one smooth movement, he wraps his arms around her, picking her up like she weighs nothing at all, and carrying her to the bed with a sound that's a sort of half-moan, half-growl. He's done second-guessing. ]

[ Pulled up, feet leaving the ground, her legs automatically wrapped at his waist as she gave a soft hum of approval to what he’d decided on. Good — good. She’d been hoping things would go this way. In the time it takes for him to stride to the bed, Chloe doesn’t waste a precious second in getting back to the business of working open the small buttons of his vest, working then at the shirt buttons. Halfway through the hurried motions, she pauses long enough to shrug out of the denim jacket and let it drop to the ground, leaving her in a plain black tee.

Rather than move back to what she was doing before, her hands change direction and move to catch him by the jaw. To capture his mouth on a quiet moan, taking the lead again with the kiss, another deep one, seeking, needy.

At his back her feet are trying to kick and toe off her ankle boots, not at all worried that he’ll drop her; she knows how strong he is, knows that he could hold her up with one arm if he really wanted to. The perks of having a celestial for a lover. ]

[ It's like she knows - but she does, doesn't she? From what she and Miss Lopez have said, it seems that she's from his future - a future in which they have had sex.

It's a strange feeling, being almost envious that she's experienced this before, but he hasn't. Not that he's not fine with learning her, with throwing himself into this - what are the odds he'll even remember it whenever he gets tossed back to his own timeline? Back to Hell?

He pushes that thought aside - that way lies a major mood-killer, and he's got an eager, beautiful Detective kissing him hungrily. He's going to live in this moment, right now.

The bed isn't nearly as nice as the one in his penthouse, but he presses her down into it anyway, helping her by shrugging out of his jacket, vest, shirt. She's flushed, her chest rising and falling with her breaths, and he has to, he has to go in for another searing kiss, or he thinks he might just die. His hands find her waist, slide up her shirt, and he groans with the loss when he has to momentarily break contact again to get it up over her head.

He kisses her like he never wants to do anything else, ever again. ]

[ Somewhere along the way in the process of kicking off her boots, she’d lost a sock. The bedding is cold and smooth under her bare foot as it’s pressed down, legs widening only so far in her skinny jeans to take his weight. She lays there and doesn’t move, watching as he strips the upper layers to give her the wonderful sight of muscles and freckled skin. It’s no wonder, really, that’s she laying there flushed and her breaths panting.

Chloe bites down on her lip, fingers wanting to touch him, needing to span over the expanse of his chest and shoulders. As he’s dropping back down then for another kiss, his hands hot on her waist as they travel upward with her shirt, her moan, though muffled, is sharp. Now he’s in better reach and now she can fulfill that need to touch him, even if it’s to greedily plow both hands into dark hair and grip.

Wait, he’s pulling back? He’s left her in somewhat of a daze, or the kiss had, that she had to briefly wonder if something were wrong. Then her shirt is pulled off over her head, dirty blonde hair loose and falling at a shoulder, and she’s left in a black lace bra and jeans. Oh. Right. His mouth catches hers again to pick up where they’d left off, and her hands are back in his hair until an arm drapes over his shoulder and her fingers push down between his shoulder blades to feel muscle and hard lines.

She wants so badly to be able to say his name, moan it into his ear, knows what that does to him. Unfortunately, there won’t be any of that for who knows how long. ]