Once the barrier closed, Lucifer bid farewell to his dear subordinate.
Samael: “…”
Oh well, at least he managed to shove some of the official documents in, so there’s no worry His Majesty won’t finish handling them.
The little grove no longer had clear, pleasant scenery; sunlight was blocked out, leaving nothing but a pile of official documents and papers. Standing inside the barrier, Lucifer’s expression was helpless; he couldn’t pass through the obstacles they posed to enter inside. How much resentment did Samael harbor toward him to bring so much paperwork here? Could it be he was angling for a vacation?
Lucifer picked a spot to sit, flicked his fingers, and produced a black feather quill, leisurely beginning to work.
He’d handle part of it first, then stow the rest in his storage space to deal with later.
As for Michael daring to trick him with this…
Heh.
When Yahweh couldn’t resist coming down to the lower realms to find him, Lucifer was completely absorbed in his paperwork, forgetting to hide things from Hell. He couldn’t help but notice Yahweh’s golden eyes widen, seemingly surprised at the documents filling most of the grove.
Lucifer didn’t say a word about Hell, smiling faintly as he stretched out his arms, waiting for Yahweh to come over.
With Yahweh there, even handling official business wasn’t boring.
Lucifer enjoyed the pleasure of his beauty’s company.
Yahweh leaned against his back, arms draped around his neck, the atmosphere warm and cozy.
If he got sleepy, Yahweh would shift to lie across his lap, resting the back of his neck on Lucifer’s arm. Half asleep, Yahweh felt a hand massaging his sensitive area, a tingle rising in his lower belly that made him press his legs together to stop the other’s further advances.
The other didn’t go so far as to remove his clothes, just gently stroking him below, and before long, Yahweh’s underwear was slightly damp.
A finger slid across the dampened area, nails scratching lightly.
Yahweh shuddered.
Lucifer had already put away the paperwork, kissing Yahweh’s brow as he wrapped an arm around his waist.
Cradling the silver-haired beauty who had fallen asleep, Lucifer carried him into the room. The light from the lamps reflected on the windows, and amidst the night sounds of insects, an intimate rhythm arose. Yahweh couldn’t tell if he was in a dream or awake, his awareness sinking into a warm, gentle environment. It felt as though waves were rippling within him, softly lapping, causing his fingers to tremble and leading him to an intense, numbing pleasure. “Mm… ah…” Yahweh’s head tilted back on the pillow, exposing his neck, graceful and carrying an indescribable nobility. Half asleep and half awake, Yahweh looked so endearing that Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to be rough with him. He could only indulge him with tenderness. Once Yahweh’s body had fully relaxed, Lucifer placed a pillow under his waist, lifting Yahweh’s hips to let him receive pleasure in the most comfortable way. He stroked Yahweh’s loose silver hair, pressing in steadily; each movement was accompanied by Yahweh’s soft, involuntary moans, his chest rising and falling with his breaths, his nipples darkening in color. Seeing Yahweh’s expression of enjoyment, Lucifer couldn’t help but smile, guessing how embarrassed Yahweh would be about it tomorrow. As he reached climax, a deeper part of the inner passage began to contract and then open slightly. It held onto Lucifer’s tip. Glistening beads of fluid seeped inside, as if shy, only allowing him to slowly enter that soft, heated place. As Lucifer fully released, Yahweh’s back arched suddenly, his legs clamping inward but restrained by Lucifer’s waist, leaving him no choice but to wrap his legs around Lucifer in an expression of yielding. “Ah!” Yahweh cried out in discomfort, only to have his focus shifted by the steady, gentle thrusts that followed.
“Yahweh, Yahweh.” Lucifer murmured his name, enticing the angel’s pure heart. They were entwined together, bare-skinned, the bedding in disarray, with the bed occasionally creaking. Yahweh’s holy, noble body beneath his silver hair was covered in kiss marks, left for Lucifer to savor.
A faint, intoxicating scent filled the once-pure air, stirring the senses.
Robes had slipped to the edge of the bed.
This night, there was no distinction in status, no burdensome official matters, only the pleasure of lovers engaging in the most intimate acts.
Lucifer had a wonderful dream: in it, Yahweh looked at him full of affection, his body still marked with the colors of passion. In reality, however…he had been too optimistic. Lucifer was woken up by a chill from outside and opened his eyes to find Yahweh had stolen all the bedding, curled up in it, sleeping soundly.
Sitting up in bed, Lucifer bent his bare, slender legs, his long black hair cascading over his shoulders, partially concealing his robust form.
He noticed sparse snowflakes drifting outside the window.
Winter had arrived.
And his lover was still asleep, blissfully unaware that another year of their time together was drawing to an end.
Tugging at the tightly wrapped bedding around Yahweh, Lucifer said helplessly, “Share some with me.”
Yahweh’s hand finally loosened its grip slightly.
Sliding back into the warm bedding, Lucifer noticed that his lover’s body was unusually hot. He touched Yahweh’s forehead and found it burning. Observing closely, he saw that Yahweh’s eyes were tightly shut, cheeks flushed, and that he exhaled wisps of white breath, the temperature of his body starkly different from the chill outside.
Hot as a furnace.
...even if he were burning up to a boil, he wouldn’t make a sound.
"Yahweh, wake up." Lucifer understood that Yahweh’s unique constitution was acting up again, he could purify darkness, but he couldn’t contain it. And yet Lucifer was the Lord of Hell, Satan himself; his saliva and even his ‘essence’ held pure, unadulterated darkness.
Even the slightest trace of darkness was intolerable for him.
Yahweh’s body was so extremely sensitive that even Lucifer couldn’t fully understand it. Did the physique of a Seraph have such a strong repelling force?
In his muddled dreams, Yahweh murmured, “Stomach hurts.”
Lucifer placed his hand over Yahweh’s abdomen, massaging it. Feeling Yahweh’s soft, flat abs, Lucifer realized just how little physical activity Yahweh actually did.
Yahweh’s body temperature continued to rise, yet he felt an intense cold, as if walking bare-skinned through a frozen landscape.
This feeling…..
He’d experienced it before, during that endless, despairing period of chaos.
Whenever the chaotic darkness suppressed the realm of light, his faint divine fire would flicker, nearly extinguishing.
The cold stayed with him.
Yahweh nestled closer in Lucifer’s arms, pressing his legs around Lucifer’s thigh, almost provoking Lucifer’s own fire. But seeing Yahweh so single-mindedly seeking warmth, Lucifer couldn’t help but feel heartache. Ignoring what it felt like to be holding such a warm body, he pulled the blankets tighter around them, using fire magic to ignite the elegant ornamental hearth in the room.
As flames danced, the room warmed.
“Yahweh.”
Lucifer continuously wiped his forehead, where sweat was seeping through the skin and turning into fine ice crystals.
He covered Yahweh’s lips with his own, attempting to draw out the dark power within him, but Yahweh’s tongue resisted, blocking Lucifer’s power from entering his body.
Outside, the snow fell harder, covering the sea of flowers, blanketing everything in white.
The roof began to creak, snowflakes whispered down, and a chill swept through the air. Yahweh, weary, sat wrapped in blankets by the hearth, his silver hair spilling onto the carpet around him. Even his bare feet were carefully wrapped in a soft, white fur rug that Lucifer had arranged, ensuring he wouldn’t feel the cold.
Since Yahweh had no desire to go out and enjoy the snowy scenery, Lucifer went to fetch water from the hot springs, then created a large bath for him.
Inside, bubbles rose and burst in the steaming water, heat roiling within the bath.
Not wanting to leave the warmth of his blankets, Yahweh, pampered to his core, resisted, fighting with Lucifer.
“I’ll bathe later.”
“Soaking will warm you up.”
“It’s uncomfortable. Cold.”
“Be good. I’ll hold you, I promise you won’t feel cold.”
But the blankets, strained by the tugging of two powerful beings, tore under the pressure, exposing Yahweh’s body.
Before Yahweh could cry out from the cold, Lucifer quickly wrapped his arms around him, shrugged off his own clothes, and stepped with him into the bath, making sure Yahweh felt the warmth of the water right away. Yahweh shivered, his whole body sinking into the water with only his head showing, his silver hair drifting on the surface like moonlight.
Having achieved his goal, Lucifer didn’t mind however Yahweh chose to settle in.
With his fingers coated in a bit of scented cleanser, Lucifer carefully washed Yahweh’s body, including a spot Yahweh was unwilling to let him touch.
Yahweh’s resistance was futile, and he stiffly endured the sensation of fingers entering his body, accompanied by the warm flow of water.
As the cloudy liquid kept flowing out—
Yahweh fully realized who was responsible for making him feel so uncomfortable!
Once Lucifer had finished cleaning Yahweh’s body, touching every place he wanted—he was rewarded with a cold, scowling look from his lover.
The bed had already been remade, the blankets replaced with fresh ones. Yahweh lay on his side, facing the wall, refusing to look at Lucifer. Lucifer, sitting at the edge of the bed without clothing, water droplets still falling from him, dried his ink-black hair with a rough towel, then sighed softly, “No good deed goes unpunished.”
Yahweh quickly turned back, glaring at him with his golden eyes.
“Does your body feel any better?” Lucifer, undeterred by his anger, leaned over and wrapped his arms around Yahweh, who, still feeling cold, huddled in the blankets.
Yahweh gave a discontented hum.
Now he’s trying to make up for it—wasn’t it a little too late!
As if reading his mind, Lucifer smiled, the enchanting look in his eyes capable of stealing the breath from any being. During Yahweh’s one-sided silent treatment, Lucifer played with strands of Yahweh’s silver hair with his fingertips, his body reclining onto the bed, revealing the smooth and captivating lines of his back. At some point, the fallen angel’s wings had appeared, covering both him and Yahweh beneath them.
The twelve black wings were beautifully arranged, their feathered tips curving inward in an arc, like a gesture of protection, or perhaps a gentle solace.
Yahweh buried his head even deeper.
Lucifer teased him with great amusement, “Yahweh, your stomach hurts so much—could it be that you’re pregnant?”
Expressionless, Yahweh replied, “Don’t worry, I have plenty of bottles of birth control pills.”
Lucifer: “…”
Since when did Heaven mass-produce birth control pills?
He pressed Yahweh close, hugging him fully, and coaxed him gently, “Don’t take them anymore. If you really do get pregnant, come to Hell to give birth. I’ll protect you.”
Yahweh, annoyed by his arrogance, retorted, “What if God doesn’t allow me to?”
At this, Lucifer’s cold, pitch-black eyes blinked, his fingers brushing Yahweh’s cheek as he chuckled softly, “No problem. I’ll bring you to Hell myself and make you my queen of demons. From then on, you’ll be the only angel I ever dote on.”
For a moment, Yahweh’s heartbeat quickened.
Take him?
Do you really think you can, Lucifer?