Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

She has never been softer.

In all the years he has known her she has never been like this.

All warm smiles and heart melting looks.

If he found her beautiful, breathtaking before, now she is downright irresistible.

He knows that part of his changed perception is their shared intimacy. The fact that now he knows her in ways he could only fantasize about.

And what silly little things they were compared to the real thing.

For someone who had done everything to still be able to find novelty in the simplest of things- a touch, a kiss, a look- was a true miracle.

Like her.

She is like the sea in his arms; gentle and calm or wild and untamed, always, always, capable of pulling him in her depths.

And how willingly he drowns every time.

Gone are those strict ponytails. Now most days her hair falls down her shoulders loose and inviting or rests in a soft plait down her back.

Either way all he wants to do is stick his nose into those tresses and kiss that sensitive patch of skin behind her ear that drives her mad.

But alas, he has agreed. No PDA at the precinct.

Or the crime scenes.

Or Ella's lab.

(She has become an expert in anticipating any possible loopholes he may use. No surprise really. She is bloody brilliant.)

Count in all those miserable hundreds of years spent in hell and it's a true wonder that Chloe is able to do anything else other than him.

That softness of course hardly means that she has grown lax in her detectiving. If anything she has become sharper. And far more deceptive.

Yes, her smiles may be soft but the teeth hiding behind it are almost as sharp as the Devil's claws.

For the guilty ones of course.

His Detective is still the department's pride- her, no, their closing rate as high as ever.

So, no more frowns mar those perfectly carved lips-except for that adorable frown of concentration before her eureka moments.

Now she smiles almost all the time and occasionally he catches her staring off into space, biting that delectable bottom lip of hers.

Needless to say that that sight is an instant stiffy; admittedly not a hard thing for Lucifer who is perpetually randy (especially after his recent return), but still it's difficult trying to conceal his excitement clad as he is in his perfectly tailored suits.

A small price to pay.

One might think that after all the delicious shagging they have been enjoying since getting together it would be easier to control these moods.

It is far worse.

Now that he knows that she desires him the same way he does, just a look is enough.

Just the thought of his name whispered by those lips in the throes of passion and his much adored ‘you, you, only you’ is enough to completely destroy him.

And they've barely scratched the surface yet.

Nevertheless, he finds her behavior a little strange. 

A bit not so Detective like.

He talks about it with Linda. She has that look about her-the one she wears when she knows the answer to what is eating him up, but still denies to offer any further assistance.

"There have been great changes in your lives Lucifer. And you have both been through so much. I think change is only to be expected. But I also think that you should discuss this with Chloe. I am sure you will find her answer much more satisfying than whatever I could tell you here."

And when he does find the courage to ask her, afraid, always afraid of hurting her, her reply leaves him speechless.

In a very wonderful, very satisfying way.

Linda was right. Again.

"I guess... I am... in love?” she asks, her cheeks going delightfully red. “I thought I was better at containing it but it seems I am unable to hide all this... happiness that's bubbling up inside me. And, well, all this sex is good too? Oh G- osh!" she laughs a bit self-consciously, biting that lip. "Um, is it really weird? Am I that obvious?"

Yes. You are a living, breathing siren walking the mundane corridors of a boring LAPD precinct. And I find it nearly impossible to resist you.

"I am just not used to it darling. But I am all the more happy for your happiness. Especially since I have my hand in it."

"Not just a hand I'd say," she says, winking at him.

Sexual puns from the Detective?

How on Earth is he supposed to survive this?

But that turns out to be the least of his problems.

Chloe has always been beautiful.

But in the past she exuded a sort of steely aura, sharp edged, hard and almost cold, and although very attractive most men chose to stay away, rejection being the most possible outcome.

But now?

Soft, smiling and finally relaxed, Chloe is like a bloody magnet.

Just with that hair flipping thing she does occasionally, she has most men, and some women, turn their eyes to her and watch almost spellbound.

And it's a burn like no other, this thing he feels, this jealousy.

Bright and hot and sour, it twists his insides in a new, unwelcome fashion.

Which is immensely surprising in itself because the Devil never minded ogling. Hell, he never minded sharing. He bloody well loved it!

Sharing.

He shudders, the mere thought of sharing her with another making his eyes flash crimson in anger.

What has become of him?

He sits on Linda's little sofa.

He stares at her.

She stares back.

He opens his mouth to speak and closes it again, eyes turning down.

He drinks some water.

She waits, adjusting her glasses.

He takes a deep breath.

"Something odd has been happening," he starts dead serious, his fingers twisting his ring again and again.

"Oh? What exactly?" she prods.

"I may have been feeling... jealous."

"Of Chloe?"

"Of course of bloody Chloe Doctor! Let's focus please, shall we!?"

His voice is almost shrill, a rarity for him which only proves how highly strung up he is.

Linda mashes her lips together trying to hide that smile but he is not bloody daft. He can see it.

"Are my troubles amusing you Doctor? Glad I can be of service as well!"

"No, no, no. Forgive me please. That was unprofessional. Was there a specific instance or...?"

"Specific instance?" He laughs self-deprecatingly. "Every moment of every single day dear. She seems to be.... far more noticeable now. People... stare... a lot. And I know those looks. I've practically invented them."

"And how does Chloe react to all this?"

"Mostly oblivious I'd say. Focused on her work as always."

"And how do you react?"

"I glare at them. And perhaps the bloody thing would work if they realized it's anger not passion that makes me look at them like that!"

He’s afraid the good doctor might break a bone the way she is clenching her jaw to keep herself from laughing.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Giggles aside, Linda assures him it's only reasonable. Their relationship is so fresh, so fragile and new. Of course it's natural to feel a little jealous.

He doesn't correct the little.

Doesn't tell her how he almost pushed back by the forehead the newbie short detective seeking her advice.

Bastard was standing too close to her and her eyes were definitely higher than the place his were glued to.

(Another hot tube high school enthusiast. Oh, he knows the fascination. But the Detective deserves respect. Always.)

But he didn't, even if he was dying to it.

Civilised devil that he is.

He should be getting points for that but alas he is keeping his mildly disturbing jealousy a secret.

Because it's a phase. That's what this is.

Just a phase.

And if only his troubles ended at the precinct.

After the urchin mentioned one night that two random men asked her mother's number at the supermarket, the bloody supermarket of all places, he takes it upon himself to never leave her unaccompanied again.

Subtly of course.

She is surprised but welcomes his company to these infernal places with a smile. Or a smirk.

It might be a cross between the two.

Maybe, just maybe, she is onto him.

Does it matter? Not as long as she wants him with her.

But, admittedly, the worst of all has been Lux.

When she started showing up once a week for a drink before her weekend sleepover he was delighted!

Absolutely smitten.

(As if he could be any more.)

But then she started trading her jeans for dresses and skirts.

Floaty or tight, it mattered not.

The Devil loved them all.

But apparently so did others. Many others.

And the ogling he could deal with. The ogling she more than deserved what with the way she looked.

But the flirting?

That he found very hard to swallow.

Too many times he has watched as men approach her, their smiles too smooth, their desires reeking from afar, their fingers caressing skin that does not belong to them.

In the darkness of Lux, his eyes flash like twin rubies a little too often for comfort.

Oh, it has happened many times (yes, he remembers them all) and somehow he managed to suffer through them with no horrible losses.

Except for his dignity.

That is definitely lost.

One specifically pops in mind-one where he might have been a smidge too obvious.

Maybe.

As much as that bloody tosser had irked him there was a very happy ending to the Devil's ordeal, both emotional and physical.

She was waiting for him at the bar, and he was making his way to her, eager for her eyes to settle on him, for her lips to meet his in sweet bliss when a man invaded her personal space suddenly, lips almost touching the shell of her ear, fingers skating down the length of her bare arm.

He saw her flinch and the next thing he heard, despite the loud music, was a deafening crack.

Thankfully it wasn't any of the bones of that foolish man but the sound of his glass breaking, as much as he would have preferred otherwise.

With the broken pieces of his glass still held in his bleeding hand he walked to them.

"I think your attention is quite unwelcome," he said pushing between them and leaving the glass on the bar.

The man, recognizing him at once, wisely chose to walk away with a whispered ‘Sorry, dude!’ while Chloe fussed over his hand. She took him up to his, their, penthouse, into the bathroom where she slowly and carefully pulled out every shard from his palm and his fingers.

"Thank you. He was crowding me," she said, breaking the silence from her perch on the vanity.

"Um, you are not mad?" he asked voice hoarse.

"Mad? No, baby I’m not mad. I wish you wouldn't let such little things get to you. I just... I hate this. I hate that I'm the cause of this," she said gesturing to the bloody napkins and shards of glass.

"Oh darling this has nothing to do with you. This is the Devil's doing completely. I've never shown my soft underbelly to anyone else."

"I really like your soft underbelly," she said kissing his bandaged hand. "And your rough hide as well," she continued, kissing his pulse point. He shivered.

Oh, she has grown impressively good at this.

"But red eyes in public baby? That can be dangerous."

She ran her fingers up and down his chest as he stood between her legs.

"Ah, darling that... That was involuntary.  I-I may not have been too fond of the way he was touching you."

"Do that mean jealous in American English?" she said, trying and failing to contain a cheeky smile.

"I wouldn't know. It's a first for me," he confessed with a hesitant smile while that knot in his stomach twisted and turned.

Her smile softened at once and she leaned into him, kissing the corner of his mouth.

"You have nothing to be jealous of," she whispered on his skin, her breath hot, her taste floating by his lips.

Whiskey and Chloe.

"I'm yours," she told him and how that admission affected him!

"Yes, you are," he whispered possessively, his hands grabbing the backs of her thighs and pulling her to him.

Did she know how he ached?

How he could not stand the thought of another man close to her?

Oh, she did. She did and she liked it, he could tell by that twist of her lips, the way she was trying to reign in that smile.

"Are you enjoying my misery, Detective?" he asked, squeezing her backside a little harder.

"Maybe a little," she breathed out, licking at the seam of his lips.

It drove him wild.

He captured her lips in a hungry kiss, one of his hands spreading on the small of her back, molding her to him.

He burned for her in so many different ways- but this, this urgent need to be one with her, this was by far his favourite kind of blaze.

He had torn both clothes and undergarments before, but this time it was not just passion that was fueling him.

Jealousy was a nasty feeling; an odd sort of roiling anger that he had no idea how to handle.

Oh, he wanted to feel the crunch of bone and cartilage against his fingers, but propriety stopped him. That and the Detective of course. He hated disappointing her.

So instead he snapped the little buttons with much more force than necessary, tearing the fabric at the seams as he pulled it off of her.

Chloe stared at him, one delicate eyebrow arching, those teeth sinking into her bottom lip. He tugged it free so that his own teeth could sink into it while his fingers quickly got rid of her bra.

His lips, unable and frankly unwilling to resist the temptation, left a very visible trail on her skin; small patches of reddened skin, blushing with his attentions.

No one else would see them but it was enough to know they were there, under all those layers of her sensible clothes.

She whined and whimpered at every suck of his lips

and all he could think of was that there was no man or angel anywhere in the cosmos luckier than him. Lucky enough to be allowed in the grace of such a creature. Lucky enough to have her give herself over to him completely.

He had only made one promise to himself after his return-one that he would never break.

Chloe Jane Decker would never regret choosing the Devil.

Never.

He would do anything in his power to make her happy. For as long as she would have him.

So he kissed and kissed, knowing that only his eyes, only his lips were privy to this little paradise.

He pushed the little tray holding the shards by accident, spilling them over the surface of the vanity.

"Bollocks," he muttered and then simply picked her up and pushed her against the opposite wall.

Her fair skin looked absolutely gorgeous against the black marble and damn it all, he wanted to consume her.

"You are breathtaking," he whispered on her skin, grazing his lips over her neck, her jaw, her lips, until their noses bumped.

"Lucifer," she breathed, voice soft and wanton.

And he stared, helpless like all those bloody tossers he wanted to smite, stared like she was the only thing in the entire cosmos.

Their shared intimacy was still a small wonder, its edges shimmering like an oasis that you fear might disappear in the unrelenting heat of the desert.

She grinded against him, pulling him back to that moment and breathed into his open lips, "Touch me. Please."

His free hand scrambled to find a way through the layers of her long skirt and when he finally managed to touch soft, warm skin he pushed her knickers aside, fingers gliding through silken, wet flesh.

He groaned into her mouth. She sighed at his touches and her nails dag deeper into the skin of his back.

It hurt so good that his cock twitched in anticipation.

He slipped first one, then two fingers inside and she moaned her head thumping against the wall. He pumped them slowly, curling them exactly the way she liked it and just watched her.

Her slightly hooded eyes, that stared into his own.

Her enticing lips, parted just so to let out the most delicious of moans.

His thumb drew circles on her clit and he pushed his fingers deeper, again and again and she fell, her lips crashing into his in a kiss that was pure sin.

He brought his fingers to her lips, smearing her own wetness there before licking it clean and their groans mingled, like their breaths.

"I want you," she whimpered, fingers trying to get to his belt but her own lovely thighs were in the way.

He brought her lower, his hands curling on those magnificent cheeks and dragged her cunt over his cock.

"Yes," she hissed and he smiled, biting his lip, delighted by her desire. He quickly unbuckled his belt and opened his pants just enough to free his cock and then he was pushing into her, into his very own slice of heaven.

"You feel so perfect love," he whispered at the shell of her ear and sucked her earlobe softly, his thrusts deep and slow.

She inhaled sharply and drew his face to her, her hands cradling his cheeks while he kept driving into her, his rhythm unrelenting.

"Don't stop. Don't ever stop. You feel fucking amazing."

Hearing prim and proper Chloe cuss during sex might be one of the sexiest things ever.

So he didn’t. His thrusts turned faster and his fingers got busy with that delicious bundle of flesh and he knew she was close; her legs clamped harder around his body and her hands moved lower, spreading around the base of his throat, nails digging deeper with each thrust.

He stared at her hungrily, waiting for that breathy moan, the fluttering of eyelids, the lip bite.

She offered them all magnanimously and her orgasm was a gift, like every time, and more than enough to make the Devil come with a deep, throaty groan, body and limbs shaking with the force of his orgasm. 

His forehead dropped to hers and their noses bumped sweetly as they both caught their breath. She pushed his curling hair off his forehead and cupped his cheek lovingly and kissed him-a kiss soft, so very soft, and chaste.

He knew it was her I love you, one that she didn’t say aloud so as not to make him feel guilty.

Because he still found it hard to utter the bloody words, even if his heart was full to the brim with it.

~J~

The words do come easier now but not as much as he would have liked.
She never complains. When his brow creases and his jaw clenches with self-directed anger she kisses him sweetly and tells him that as good as he might be with words, his eyes often render them unnecessary.

They speak louder than words ever could, she says and kisses said eyes.

And even if it has been months since that first stab of jealousy, the blasted feeling has not abated.

Surprisingly, it was Mazikeen who helped him put things in perspective.

"Properly-fucked Chloe is hot! I’ll give her that. But why do you care how much they stare? The more, the better I say!  Own it. Be proud instead of angry. You are the one she takes to her bed every night. It's sickening really.
I mean you guys haven't invited me -not even once! What are friends for, if not for that?"

So, he decides to ignore the stares and the threesome requests -not just the ones from Maze.

He ignores them until he realizes that although he doesn't want one, he has not asked her. He might be jealous but he would never stand in the way of any desire she could have.

So he asks her.

Even if he looks awfully constipated while doing so.

"A threesome?" she repeats, frowning. "Um, I... um, is there someone new you like?"

"Someone ne—“

"I mean, I know that your lifestyle before -with Eve- was different—“

"Chloe, darling, no. I do not like someone new and this has nothing to do with my previous choices. I was asked by old acquaintances, asking for you in the mix as well. I, well, I declined before asking you. I shouldn't have but..."

He takes a deep, fortifying breath.

"I truly cannot imagine watching someone else pleasuring you. I feel like we've barely gotten together. I know it's selfish of me and if you want that I will do it—“

Her lips shut him up, as they more often than not do.

"I can't share you either. Maybe later, much later, if I ever have my fill of you and you want to play.”

"Oh, I always want to play darling. But right now I am thinking more of one-on-one kind of game."

It's a spectacular game.

They both score repeatedly and his jealousy is put to rest.

But it doesn't last long.

No rest for the wicked and all.

It happens one morning that isn't supposed to be any different.

He walks down the steps into the bullpen greeting everyone with his customary smile.

He is holding their coffees in his one hand and some fresh pastries in the other. He loves spoiling her.

 And he knows she loves it despite her complaints.

He hurries, eager to have her desk in his sights and stops dead in his tracks once he does.

There is a man sitting in his chair. The one he always pulls up right next to the Detective.

His bloody chair.

Next to his Detective.

He starts walking again, slower, taking in the details.

He is broad and tall, his dark blonde hair styled in a way similar to his own. He is wearing a black suit with a black tie around his neck. 

Not as fancy as his, of course. But not too shabby either.

He is handsome.

Very handsome.

If he was in the habit of sharing his bed with others, he would definitely invite him.

But he is not.

Chloe's eyes light up the moment she sees him. It makes his heart melt a little, momentarily forgetting that hulk of a man sitting next to her.

"Good morning Detective," he greets with a smile that turns a bit saucy as he mind races back to their phone call the night before. He wants to kiss her so bad.

He detests her workplace rules.

Absolutely loathes them.

"Good morning Lucifer," she says, cheeks rosy and eyes bright. She clears her throat collecting herself again and proceeds with the introduction.

"Lucifer, this is special agent Marcus Harrison. He will be working with us on this case."

Lucifer shakes the already extended hand. Nice, firm handshake. Professional smile.

"Lucifer. Morningstar,” he says with his usual flair. “I have to admit though I have a certain aversion to that particular name."

"I imagine you do," he says with a lopsided smile. "It's not every day that your lieutenant turns out to be a criminal mastermind hell bent on killing you. And call me Harrison," he finishes with a wink.

How dare he be smoother than the Devil?

"I- of course you know about that!" Chloe says, voice strangled.

"Since we were going to work together on this I wanted to know what I was walking into. Your reports make for interesting reading. I suppose it can't be easy covering up the Devil's shenanigans but you do make an effective team. I can only imagine that this is the only reason they are still allowing this.... partnership," Harrison says waving his hand between him and the Detective.

"We do make an effective team- our closing rate is the best by far in this department and far better than many others across the country. And if you are here to insult either one of us I can assure you our cooperation will be anything but pleasant," Chloe says calmly, blue eyes sharp, and stands. "I need to talk with Ella."

Bless his Detective's heart. Chloe standing up for him, for them might be the single sweetest and most arousing thing he has heard. A very fond smile forms on his lips while his suit pants suddenly feel too tight.

They both watch her walk away, eyes focused on the same spot.

"Oof! She really is something, right?" Marcus Harrison says with a salacious smile.

He wants to wipe it right off his face.

"That's my chair you are sitting on Harrison," Lucifer says with a sharp grin.

"It was empty when I got here Morningstar. Finders, keepers."

He offers an equally sharp grin. "Joking! I swear to God I am not trying to be an ass!"

"Such a pity! You were doing wonderfully!"

Harrison smirks.

"You're fun. I like you. So, where's the forensic lab? She meant Lopez, didn't she? I should go apologise to her."

Harrison is smart, charming, funny and he is most assuredly very good at his job.

And he stares at Chloe a bit too much.

Lucifer does not like.

Not one bit.

And it would have been hate at first sight had it not been for the actual reason Harrison is here.

Peter Hudges, the victim, was being monitored by the FBI as he was considered the head of a child pornography ring.

(It is in times like this that Lucifer wishes he were back in Hell. For men like him.)

So, Harrison will be joining them in this investigation hoping to uncover more members of this blasted ring.

He may seem like an annoying arse but he is an arse with depth. There is a fire behind his blue eyes that Lucifer is all too familiar with. He wants them punished and Lucifer both understands the feeling and admires it.

Even if he wants to break his perfect nose for staring (very surreptitiously) at the Detective's lovely breasts.

(Well, be can't really blame him for that. They are absolutely gorgeous.)

The case is complicated. Perhaps the most complicated one they have worked on. It feels like they are going around in circles all the bloody time, which means that Harrison has somehow become their third wheel.

He despises it at first. Always quick to offer his opinions and almost always right, Harrison is a peacock in his own right, one that Lucifer wants to pluck, feather for feather.

But the more time they inevitably spend together, his irritation melts, even if Harrison’s sly looks have not lessened. He is smart, outgoing and has a wicked sense of humor.

A blond, less charming, less handsome version of Lucifer.

It really is hard not to like him.

Chapter Text

His walls crumble completely when they share whiskeys at Lux, a week into their partnership.

They talk about the case until their moods sour enough to empty almost two bottles of whiskey in too short a time.

Then Harrison talks about his ex-girlfriend. Also FBI agent. Both too absorbed in their careers to manage an actual relationship, let alone something more.

While he talks, Lucifer realizes that he must be awfully lonely. He barely needed any prompting and here he is spilling his entire love story to him.

Then, they talk about the Devil.

"I was prepared for the worst, you know," he says bleary eyed, pointing a finger at him.

"Were you now?"

"A conceited whack job who was paying a hefty amount of money to play cop." He withdraws both hands to his chest, palms out. "My bad though. I was... very wrong. You are great at consulting. You have a unique perspective. And that desire whammy you do! Whoa! How do you do that? Very useful. Decker is lucky. You are a great partner."

"Thank you Harrison. Although, I'd say that I am the lucky one. Detective Decker is an... extraordinary woman and my...” my love, my light, my everything, “ best friend."

It’s not a lie. But not quite the truth either.

Cursed promises.

Lucifer is sorely tempted to ask him- Chloe is not around to disapprove and Marcus probably won't remember it by tomorrow with all the whiskies he has downed.

"So, how long have you been pining for her?" Harrison asks, interrupting his thoughts. His eyes narrow slightly and then his phone rings. He decides to ignore the question and simply answer the phone.

"Changed your mind Detective?" he asks, hoping that she has not. He does not want her around a drunk Harrison. He will undoubtedly leer continuously at her and he has just begun to like him.

"Afraid not Lucifer. There has been a break in the case-I think. I want you both here first thing in the morning. Sober. Okay?"

"Consider it done dear. Are you alright, darling?" he asks moving a few steps away.

"I guess. It's this case, you know? And well, I miss you."

"As do I, love. More than you know. And we'll get all the bloody bastards. You'll see. Now, go and get some rest."

"Goodnight baby. I love you."

She hangs up before he has the chance to say anything.

Or to worry about having to say something.

He almost wants to break his phone.

He turns back to Harrison who is trying to pour another glass.

"That's enough for you dear. Early wake-up call tomorrow. Up you go," he says pulling him to his feet. Once up to the penthouse, Harrison is rejuvenated.

"Well, well! The orgy penthouse."

"You are awfully well informed I see."

"I’m thorough,” he says with a drunken shrug. “So have you and Decker ever..?"

He has the nerve to wink at him. If it weren't for his promise to Chloe to keep their personal life private he would be rubbing her many, many orgasms to his stupidly handsome face.

"You enjoy orgies? I could set you up in one," he says trying to deflect, making his way to the guest bedroom. Harrison follows.

"Um," he chuckles nervously, "I think a threesome would be more than enough. Can you arrange one of those?" he asks with a nervous chuckle.

Lucifer turns and looks at him. He can't really tell whether he is serious or not. And whether this is a much more specific kind of invitation.

"You're a handsome enough chap. I don't see why not. The Brittanies might just make a reappearance for you! Now-there is a bathroom attached," he gestures to the door "and linens in the closet."

Harrison has an entirely too cheeky expression on his face.

"What?"

"Have you ever seen them?" he asks, hands at his chest, jingling imaginary breasts.

"Back to that, are we?"

"Hot tub was among my wank bank material in college."

He has the silliest smile on his face. It's hardly enough to save him.

Lucifer takes a deep breath.

Closes his definitely crimson hued eyes.

Pinches the bridge of his nose.

He promised the detective to deliver him sober tomorrow. He didn't say anything about broken bones though.

He could break his small finger. A few toes perhaps?

"Um, sorry? Did I go too far? My filter disappears when I drink."

"I suggest that you sleep. I have promised the Detective to deliver you sober tomorrow."

He turns to leave.

"Lucifer... I am sorry. And thank you."

Lucifer sighs and decides to be the bigger man here.

Not that there ever was a question about that.

"Water under the bridge. Come on now, off to bed."

He closes the door behind him and goes to pour himself another drink. He checks his phone. He would love to hear her voice again, in a slightly different kind of call. But he doubts she will be feeling up to it.

He drinks some more on his balcony and then retires to his bed.

He dreams.

He wakes up with a raging erection, not quite remembering his dream.

 Just wisps of golden hair and blue eyes.

After a nice long shower and a very satisfying wanking session thanks to a certain detective, he goes to wake up his guest.

There is no reply when he knocks so he steps inside to the sight of an empty bed and the rush of water.

At least they won't be late.

Lucifer is trying to decide on a suit when Harrison shows up in his wrinkled one.

"Whoa," he exclaims taking in the very naked devil.

"Hello, there," he grins, "enjoying the view?"

He lets out a nervous laugh, his eyes roaming his body. "You are... ripped. I wasn't expecting that."

"The benefits of a celestial build!" Harrison rolls his eyes and Lucifer laughs (at him). "Like it?" he asks with a wink, unable to resist the teasing.

"I can see the appeal, but I’m a ladies' man."

"So were others. Many others. They didn't call me the skillet for no reason! Well, retired skillet now," Lucifer says with a laugh, skimming his suits, missing the slightly shocked expression on the other man's face. He picks out a patterned dark blue one.

"Was there something you needed?" he asks pulling on the pants. "I'll be ready in a jiffy and we'll be off."

"Um, great, okay. I’ll just wait outside."

And so forty minutes later they arrive at the precinct with coffees and snacks.

There are suspects to be questioned and a very precious bit of information that helps them put more of the puzzle pieces together.

At some point, Ella appears out of nowhere and drags him back to her lab.

"Did you sleep with him?" she asks without a preamble.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Did you sleep with Harrison?"

"Of course not, miss Lopez."

"Phew! That's great. I don't have to kick your ass now!" she says with a shaky smile.

"Why would you think that?"

"Well you show up together and he's in the same suit as yesterday and well… you do stare at him a lot."

"I do admit that he's handsome but mostly I glare at him. Why can't anyone tell the bloody difference? He won't stop staring at the Detective! And last night he mentioned hot tub high school."

"Oh, how did that go? Wait! Have you told him? That you guys are like together, together?"

"I have not. Chloe has requested that we keep our relationship private."

"Oh crap. But I get her, you know? Especially with the feds."

The door opens to reveal one very beautiful Detective.

"Hello darling."

She closes the door and the blinds and walks to him. Oh, he knows that look. Her arms wrap around his neck and her lips press against his, soft at first but then more demanding. His cock jumps to attention at once. It has been three very long, very lonely days.

"Hey," she says, noses pressed together.

"Awww, you guys are so cute! You're killing me here!" Miss Lopez exclaims with a sigh, making stabbing motions, while Chloe apologizes half-heartedly.

"Breaking your own rules, darling. I am impressed." He runs his fingers up and down her back. She shivers.

"I hate this week. And I've missed you so much."

He kisses her again, short and sweet, unable to resist but drops his hands once he hears the commotion outside. Chloe steps back, leaving some room between them.

Harrison steps inside the lab. He looks around, a hesitant smile on his face.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asks with a half-smile and Lucifer blinks, having a moment of deja-vu before it all comes back to him.

It's as if a bucket of ice cold water has been dropped on him.

The details of the dream come rushing back into his conscious mind and for a moment he just stands there- the dream unfolding once more in his mind's eye...

"Detective!" he exclaims a bit too loud, turning to her. "I have to go. Something urgent has arisen that demands my attention.”

He walks out briskly. He needs answers.

~J~

He barges in, not even bothering to knock, feeling confused and hurt. And slightly turned on, too.

“Lucifer! I—“ Linda starts but he cuts her off, unable to hold the awful truth behind his lips any longer.

“Doctor, the worst possible thing happened!”

“Is someone hurt? Is it Hel- have they returned?” Linda asks, panic flooding the lines of her face.

“What? No, of course not. Don’t be preposterous Doctor! That hole has been plucked for good dear. It’s something else. Far worse. The Detective,” he says ominously, not knowing how to continue.

“Is Chloe alright?” Linda asks standing up.

“Um, I’m sorry Dr Linda I—“ the young woman stops talking when they both turn to look at her.

“Oh, Daisy I am terribly sorry. Lucifer, unless this is a matter of life or death it will have to wait.”

“Oh, no, no, no Doctor. That simply won’t do!”

He turns to the young woman, who blushes under his stare.

“Sweet, sweet Daisy, what is it that you want, hmmm?” he asks, staring deep into vivid green eyes.

“I want—“

“Lucifer!” comes the sharp whisper from Linda.

“Yes, dear..?” he asks, eyes still locked, ignoring the good doctor.

“I want my dog back! He was such a good doggo. Why did he have to get sick?” Daisy wails and falls into the Devil’s arms, tears and snot all over his Burberry.

He ought to remember never to wear Burberry in Linda’s presence. One way or another they all end up ruined.

“Oh dear. Not much I can do about that Daisy. But, if it’s any consolation all dogs end up in heaven. So, no trouble for your pupper. He’s happily frolicking away. Now off you pop dear, I am in desperate need of the good Doctor’s wisdom.”

The moment Daisy closes the door behind her, Linda goes on a rant. It’s surprising how much authority such a small body can hold.

And in any other case he would cringe, but not today. This is a matter of utmost urgency.

“…that was inexcusable Lucifer! You had no right doing that to Daisy! And I have other patients too you know! You can’t keep doing this wh—“

“Linda, please. This is… serious. I am in desperate need of your help.”

Her anger melts away at the tone of his voice.

“Alright then. I am listening.”

“The Detective… Chloe, she has…” he pauses and although the words might hold a familiarity considering their beginning, now they feel foreign and bitter on his tongue. “She has rejected me. Sexually.”

“What?” Linda says with a confused expression. “Lucifer I am certain that this is just a misunderstanding.”

“Trust me Doctor it is not.”

“You do have a tendency to overreact. You—“

“I assure you doctor, she did reject me,” he interrupts. “She chose him.” And how that still stings. The words tumble out of him like an angry, frustrated torrent. “Didn’t even want me in the mix. I was barely allowed to watch Linda! I mean it was supposed to be a threesome-that was what he had asked but it wasn’t!”

 “Lucifer, please slow down. I am having a hard time following you. When did all this happen? I was under the impression that you had decided unanimously that you would not be inviting other people to your bed. And what do you mean she didn’t want you in the mix?”

“She pushed me away doctor.”

“Chloe? Chloe pushed you away?” she asks incredulous.

“That she did. And then proceeded to do the nasty with him. It was disturbing and infuriating and… hot. Loath as I am to admit it.”

“And you just… watched?” she asks disbelieving.

“Well, not all of it. Some parts-it’s sort of blurry. And then I woke up—“

“You woke up?! You woke up Lucifer? Are we talking about a dream?!”

She is (not so gradually) turning burgundy. It does not strike him as normal or healthy. Best put her worries to rest.

“Of course Linda! Did you really think that Chloe would push me away?” he asks with a laugh but Linda is definitely not looking better. “Oh dear, you do! You really think she would! Linda this is tr–“

“Lucifer.” Her voice is soft and quiet and full of menace. “The next time you interrupt someone else’s session for a dream-a freaking sexual dream about a threesome in which you may or may not want to participate- I will spend a week praying to you, sending nude mental images of Amenadiel. I swear to G— your Dad, I will.”

“Bloody Hell, Linda! That is bloody horrifying! Not to mention off-putting! Did I really go that far?” he asks surprised. That is severe punishment. Not worthy of his crime, if you ask him.

“Yes, you did. Now… it looks like we have a small mess to untangle.”

“Hardly Doctor. It was just the two of them and he wasn’t particularly creative.”

“Hmmm. And why is that, do you think?”

Bollocks.

Why did he come here again?

~J~

He stands outside her door, thinking.

Come whenever. Consider it your own set of keys. Which you don't actually need, she had told him a few months back.

So he does as she has asked, opening the door and stepping hesitantly inside.

"Hey Luce!" Beatrice greets him excitedly. Well, as excitedly as this teenage mutant version of hers does things now.

"Where is your mother dear?"

"Bedroom. Upstairs."

He is making his way up the stairs when Beatrice speaks again.

"And remember- I can hear you," she says in a sing song voice making the Devil smile.

He knocks before entering at her invitation. She is wearing a t-shirt and some barely there shorts, fresh out of her bath. The fact alone that he has yet to attack her is evidence enough of how unsettled he is really feeling.

"Hello darling," he offers with a small smile.

"Hello you," she says pulling him by his lapels closer to her and pecking him on the lips.

"What happened today? You got me worried."

"Well, yes. Forgive me. I had an overwhelming need to visit Linda."

"Nightmare? Flashbacks?" she asks, her voice laced with an anger that she still has not put to rest. He has come to realize that the Detective loathes anything that might hurt him.

Both this and his more devilish side.

It's truly heart-warming.

"A dream, actually. Well, a nightmare in a way. Since you play an instrumental part in it, Linda insisted that I share both it and its possible implications with you."

"Okay." She sits on her bed and pats the space next to her. He sits. Takes a deep breath.

"We were on my bed. Kissing. Naked." He can't even look at her. "I was-um kissing you and touching you- pretty standard devilish behavior in every reality... When—"

He startles when he feels her fingers slipping between his. She smiles in encouragement.

"There was an extra someone there. A very specific extra someone."

"Oh." Her cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink. "Someone I know? If it was Maze can you please not tell her? She won't stop hinting at it as it is-she will be truly insufferable!" she says with an awkward laugh.

"It wasn't Maze. It was Harrison."

Her eyes widen slightly.

"Did something happen between the two of you last night?"

"No! Ella asked me the same bloody thing."

"I mean I get it if you are attracted to him. He is rather handsome.”

"No, no detective. That's not the point! We didn't actually do the nasty all together.”

"Just the two of you?" she asks, cheeks getting redder.

"Wrong, again," he says with a tight smile. "I was.... ignored? You sort of pushed me away. I was barely allowed to watch which made it no fun let me tell you! It was hot but infuriating at the same t—“

Her lips press against his, soft and sweet while she moves the rest of her body closer to his.

"I'm even making you jealous in your sleep. I apologise on her behalf", she says kissing the corner of his mouth. "Are you sure though this is not about you wanting to..?"

"More certain than I care to admit. I told you darling I don't feel like sharing you with anyone. But he wants you. Big fan of hot tub."

"He told you that? Shit. That stupid film will haunt me forever."

"Are you sure that you are not attracted to him? Because I am certain he would be more than willing.”

"For a threesome? He told you that?"

"More or less?"

“What did you talk about last night? And here I thought he was more reserved!”

"The devil can corrupt everyone dear," he says with a forced grin.

"You are too irresistible for your own good,” she says kissing his stubbled cheek. "Can I ask you something though? Why do you insist on bringing this up? I mean we have already talked about it. The fact that Harrison is handsome doesn't change what I had told you. Are you very, very certain that you are not projecting your own desires here? You know you can tell me right? I might have been somewhat judgmental in the past but well... I have changed as well."

Her concern will never cease to amaze him. The fact that she cares so intimately about his desires.

(He chooses to ignore the striking similarities between this and his previous conversation.)

"Darling I promise it's not that. I am... I love fulfilling others' desires. I have been doing it for thousands of years. And I will continue to do so. Maybe not the carnal ones but still. The thought however that any desire of yours may go unsatisfied due to my possessive streak leaves me frustrated and quite frankly... angry."

"Let's make a deal," she offers, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"A deal? Do go on Detective!"

"I promise that if I change my mind and want to try something, I'll let you know so we can discuss it and perhaps re-evaluate our boundaries. And in return you will stop worrying about any possible unfulfilled desires. Okay?"

Her careful wording does not escape his notice. Ever since his return she has been adamant about not forcing him into anything that he might dislike - even marginally.

Yet another piece of evidence proving that she does indeed put his desires first.

Not that he would allow it, mind you. But the feeling bubbling in his chest at her love and protectiveness is a sensation only she can inspire in him.

Luckiest bloody bastard in the cosmos.

"You have yourself a deal detective!"

No handshake required here. Their deals are long now sealed with kisses.

They meet each other half way, all lips and eager hands.

"You should know..." her breath is hot on his cheekbone, her hands burn hotter on his arms, "I am ridiculously in love with you just in case you haven't realized it yet.  I barely notice other men. I don't care about Harrison or anyone else. I only want you."

"Well, in that case I should say that you have turned the devil into a lovesick fool. One that has eyes for you only."

They fall into each other again, their hunger like the gravity of a thousand stars pulling them inevitably, inexorably together.

Well, at least until the urchin knocks on the bedroom door.

They pull apart reluctantly while Lucifer tries in vain to will his erection away. No such luck.

Beatrice plops on the bed between them, stretching her long limbs.

"I'm hungry," she announces. "Can we order some pizza? Or burgers?"

"Soup can only go so far I guess... So why not?" Chloe agrees easily. "Why don't you two decide on a menu and order? You'll stay, won't you?"

As if he could stay away.

"Of course darling. Urchin, should we take this downstairs?"

"Sure thing!"

While looking over their order Beatrice says quietly,

"You looked really upset before. But you look much better now."

"Your Mom makes everything better dear."

"I am just really happy you are back, you know?" she says, eyes glued to her phone.

"As am I, Beatrice," he says and suddenly there are two long, skinny limbs wrapping around him. He holds her too, continually flabbergasted by all this love coming his way.

See?

Luckiest bastard in the world.

~J~

It takes them almost another week to identify the murderer. And thanks to a certain Devil, desires spill like red wine, their stains unmistakable to miss.

More members of this cursed ring are identified and taken into custody before charges can be pressed.

So, as he walks into the precinct on this fine, fine Wednesday, Lucifer has every reason to be happy.

Murdering pillock having been arrested and seven more filthy excuses of human beings apprehended by the FBI, the case closes with a rather spectacular bang.

Congratulations are being exchanged between the department and Harrison's task force, having achieved much more than originally expected.

Chloe's smile is dimmer than it ought to be, despite being well-satisfied, but he knows why. This case weighed much more heavily than others, the horrors hidden behind the murder shaking her to her very core.

"You are taking me out for celebratory drinks, aren't you? I want to make the most of my last night here," he says, eyes locked on Chloe.

Lucifer bristles.

Internally.

"Oh, don't you worry. Lux throws the best parties," she says, her eyes cutting to Lucifer. "You'll leave LA more than satisfied."

Harrison grins at her, all secret meaning.

"I'll go tell Ella," she says and leaves them alone at her desk.

"That sounded promising," Harrison says with a smile and punches Lucifer in the shoulder before he leaves. It bloody stings.

"Promising my arse," he complains to no one but himself and makes his way to the lab.

Ella’s enthusiasm is contagious despite the way Harrison has managed to sour his good mood. She keeps going on and on about the drinks and the music and the people and Lucifer is determined to both impress this bloody fool and get him off of his or better the Detective’s back so he can properly enjoy the celebrations as well.

Thus, he doesn't dally at the precinct.

He finds an isolated, quiet spot to kiss Chloe goodbye (if she can break her rules, so can he!) and makes his way to Lux.

He does have a party to plan. Can't have that dullard complaining about it. 

After a few phone calls the word is out that Lux is hosting an impromptu come as you are party.

He leaves last a more personal sort of call.

“Brittany? How have you been dear?”

~J~

By the time Lucifer leaves the penthouse for Lux, dressed in his favorite Armani, the place is almost packed. He makes his rounds, consummate host that he is, offering his smiles and compliments to the hungry eyes of the crowd.

When he sees her walk down those steps, the tumbler stops just shy of his lips.

His mouth goes dry.

Half of her hair is up in a bun and she is wearing a long azure wrap dress with red details.

It has a long, long slit that reveals her beautiful, toned thighs with every step she takes.

She is wearing red, high-heeled sandals, delicate and incredibly sexy.

And she has no bra on.

His pants feel incredibly tight and it’s barely the beginning.

This woman will be the death of him.

He downs his whiskey and meets her half way.

He kisses her full on the lips, somehow managing to keep his hands on her waist.

“You look absolutely breathtaking,” he kisses just below her ear. “Exquisite,” another kiss. “Bewitching,” and another.

“You’d better stop if you want us to actually stay and celebrate,” she says, eyes bright and cheeks rosy.

“We could still celebrate darling. A party of two.”

“We would be heading up right now in any other case. But the others will be arriving soon and we did promise a great party.”

“I bloody hate it when you’re so right,” he says, kissing her neck. “Besides, your fan would be sorely disappointed if you weren’t here. He thought you sounded promising this morning.”

Even he can hear the spite and jealousy in his voice.

She narrows her eyes playfully at him.

“Are you jealous, again? Of Harrison?”

“Pffttt! The Devil? Jealous? I’m far past that darling!” It’s not a lie. Not really. He is far past simple jealousy. He has entered an altogether other domain.

The rest of the company arrives shortly after Chloe.

“Do I fit the bill?” Harrison asks in his trademark dark suit. No tie this time though.

“Quite! And you Miss Lopez, look absolutely lovely!” Ella is wearing one of her usual quirky shirts (the one with Dracula) but she has paired it with a short, dark sequin skirt, showing off her shapely legs.

“Well, I didn’t exactly follow the theme now, did I? Sorry,” Chloe says, pouting her lips theatrically. He would like to do many, many things to those lips.

“Why, Detective, allow me to disagree! You have come exactly as you are!”

“Don’t mock me Lucifer!” she complains, slapping him on his forearm. “You are usually more charming than that.”

“Detective please, you misunderstand me!”

He leans into her personal space to ensure that only she will hear him.

“A siren finally embracing the blue of the sea. As beguiling as ever. Whether in jeans or dresses that doesn’t change darling.”

She gives him that precious, dirty half-smile that never fails to stretch his lips into a grin and make his pants even tighter.

He can see Harrison watching them from the corner of his eye, blue eyes speculative.

They are not at the precinct, nor are they working. He is not sure what rules apply in this case but either way he’s not certain he is willing to follow them.

There are drinks and a lot of smiles and only after she has polished off her second cocktail does Chloe allow Ella to drag her to the dance floor.

He watches her, desperate for the tantalizing view of those lovely legs that her every step offers him. He can’t wait to have them wrap around him. Or to hike them up on his shoulders while he—

He really is not helping his situation. He downs his drink with a swallow.

“I’m doing it!” Harrison announces out of the blue.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m going to join the ladies and see if Chloe might—“

“She’s not interested. I mean, she finds you attractive in a clinical way b—“

“That’s the first step Lucifer!” he says, clapping him on his back and sets off.

Well, this might be fun.

As he watches Harrison talking to her, he feels a hand sneaking under his suit jacket and squeezing his arse, manicured nails digging in the flesh.

He turns around surprised because that ass belongs to a very lovely Detective now, no matter how upsetting many people find it.

"Hello Lucifer," Brittany No1 greets him with a saucy smile.

"Hello dear! Long time no see!"

"That's your fault baby," she runs her fingers down the lapels of his jacket and he knows exactly where they are heading.

He takes both her hands in his and gives her a smile.

"Now, now dear! You know I am out of the market. Besides the invitation was very specific!"

His eyes turn to the dance floor trying to locate them.

He scans the crowd and locates Harrison easily. He stands out tall as he is.

But Lucifer does not like what he can see.

Not one bit.

Harrison is almost hunched over a certain someone but all he can see are wisps of blue and then red.

Only red.

And a vice around his heart, the likes of which he has never felt before.

Why would she kiss him now?

But most importantly why would she lie to him?

His feet carry him to them, almost on instinct and he pulls Harrison back from his shoulder ready to do what exactly?

He has no bloody clue.

But he knows with certainty that Chloe would never have allowed his kisses had she not been equally willing.

The vice turns tighter, the pain around his heart sharper and then it releases him altogether.

The face that stares back at him startled is not the one he expected to see.

"Lucifer, are you alright man?" Harrison asks. And then more cheekily, "You thought that was Chloe, didn't you?” he laughs heartily. “Serves you right! Letting me make a fool of myself when you two are an item!"

"How.... dare you snog a complete stranger when I’ve arranged a bloody threesome for you?" he cries indignantly, deflecting.

"You did what?"

"You did ask for one, didn't you?" He turns back to the bar. "The Brittanies are waiting for you. Your friend here could join you. Right, darling?" he asks, locking eyes with the brunette. Her eyes widen and she lets out a soft exhale.

"Are -are you joining us?" she asks, caressing his stubbled cheek.

"Afraid not dear. Off you pop now. It's rude to keep your company waiting!"

His eyes scan the crowd looking for the Detective. He finds her watching him, eyes smoldering, face entirely too serious. Harrison pulls him around again.

"Lucifer! Are you fucking serious?" Harrison asks bewildered. And excited.

"Well but of course, dear. The Devil is all about fulfilling desires!"

And then leaves him behind making his way to Chloe.

He wants to wrap his arms around her and kiss her senseless. Make her forget her own bloody name.

But not his.

His she can sing to the skies for all his feathered prick-ly family to enjoy.

But her fingers on his throat hold him back.

She lets them glide down to his clavicle slowly. He swallows audibly.

"That was a close call,” she says tapping her finger there.

"Indeed."

"What would you have done Lucifer?"

"Not a bloody clue Detective," he admits, hands crawling up her waist just under her breasts. His fingers itch to undo that neat, pretty bow and kiss and lick his way into her exposed body, making her moan her pleasure, making everyone see that she is his, and he, irrevocably, undeniably hers.

"Would you have hit him?" she asks voice lower, grittier. It makes him impossibly harder.

"Bugger me if I know," he tells her, fingers caressing the underside of her breasts. "Oh, but it hurt. It bloody well hurt thinking that you were allowing his kisses."

"So, the Devil might be jealous after all."

"Certainly looks like it,” he agrees easily. "What are you doing to me?" he wonders aloud.

Her fingers trail lower, following the line of his buttons, definitely feeling the way his muscles tremble under her touch, until they reach his belt. She taps his belt buckle and he's more than ready to beg for her touch.

"Can't say that I'm used to this. To all these reactions... But I like them," she whispers and pulls him by the buckle even closer, crashing her lips to his.

Her kiss is filthy, all tongue and biting teeth, making him moan into her mouth.

"I want you," she whispers hotly into his mouth, her hands squeezing his arse.

He does love slightly drunk, amorous Detective!

"You have no idea Chloe," he whispers, pulling her closer still, and grinds his erection into her belly.

They draw back from the crowd.

He leads their supposed dancing towards the edge of the dance floor and then guides her slowly to the door hiding behind the dark velvety curtains and unlocks it as only he can. Once inside, he pushes her against the wall, his front to her back, her curves melting into all his hard places.

It feels glorious.

He holds her hands above her head with one of his, while the other drags slowly over her breast, down her ribcage and lower still to cup her over her dress. His erection fits perfectly between those lovely ass cheeks.

"Yes," she whimpers, trying to grind against his palm.

Not so fast dear.

"You have been very, very naughty, Detective."

His hand makes it through the slit of the dress, finding lace and silk. He leaves a feather light touch from her clit to her entrance. She mewls, pushing her ass into him. He bites back a moan.

"Lucifer," she whines, her body desperate for more. He traces the line of her underwear, the fabric barely covering those delectable lips.

In a quick move he turns her around, her mouth just inches away from his.

"You do enjoy making me jealous, you minx. And not just a little, too," he accuses, pulling her tighter against him- one of his hands wrapping around the nape of her neck and the other spreading over those dimples above her lovely derrière, fingers fanning over her ass cheeks.

"Maybe," she admits with a cheeky smile.

"You are a cruel, cruel creature Detective, enjoying my woe."

She leans in, tongue sweeping over his lips, and bites him. It stings and hurts but most of all it's surprising and so bloody hot that he almost comes in his pants like any ordinary bloke.

"Oh, is the Devil finally getting a taste of his own medicine?" she mocks. "How does that feel, baby?"

He looks at her, confused for a moment but she forges on.

"Oh, don't give me that look. You made me an expert in this field! All those months of flaunting all your sex-escapades with Eve while I was practically forced to listen when I-I—"

"Yes?" he encourages her, his hand splaying on the column of her neck, feeling her pulse quicken, her words a small revelation he had never imagined.

"I wanted you! I hated, hated listening—“

His lips crash to hers, hard and soft and so very eager to please, the smallest of apologies because now he truly knows just how much this stings.

But truth be told, he likes it too. Her confession both makes him rejoice and ache.

She may make his flesh vulnerable but he has never felt more human than this moment, so swallowed up by emotions he has never quite understood.

Nor, will he ever.

"I really like seeing you jealous. I fucking love it," she cusses and gosh he feels like he might explode. "Your possessiveness, your anger-it turns me on," she confesses and he pushes his erection into her stomach, showing her that they do make quite the pair.

He pulls the neckline of her dress aside and starts kissing and sucking at the skin over her breast, determined to leave more marks, this time some more visible than others.

"Did you think of me when you touched yourself back then?"

"Did you?" she throws back, angry still and how can she still not see?

"All the bloody time Chloe-your eyes haunted me—" he says and she kisses him, hands cradling his cheeks, her body pressing even closer to his, an urgency in her movements that he hasn't felt since those first times they had come together.

He moves lower, nose circling her pebbled nipple over the soft fabric of her dress and then biting it softly, making her moan.

"So… are you out for revenge then Detective? To drive the Devil mad with jealousy?" he asks, hands moving lower, and separating the two panels of the dress, fingers back on those lovely knickers.

"Maybe..." she says breathily as his fingers find her clit over soft fabric.

"It's working, Detective. Like most of your plans. Do you like the beast that hides under this skin?"

He keeps his touch light, just enough to make her crave for more.

"I do. He is mine, too. He makes me feel like I have power to wield too. Like I can bring you-an Angel, the Devil, a King- to your knees. I am not -uuung- proud of it but -g-osh I fucking love it."

She still doesn't know- doesn't believe him when he tells her she is everything. He drops to his knees and looks at her, his queen. She looks so breathtaking, with her hair disheveled and her dress slightly askew.

"Oh darling if I am a King, you are nothing short of a Queen. And I'll always drop to my knees before you. I worship the air that leaves your lips, I would happily follow you on my knees like a sworn pilgrim anywhere." His hands sink into her ass cheeks, pulling her closer to him, kissing her knickers right where they are soaked.

"Yes," she groans out, hands already in his hair, pulling him closer. He kisses her over the lace panties, just enough to drive her mad with desire. He'd love to hear her beg. But tonight he is the one on his knees.

"Lucifer... Ung, please...."

There it is.

"Anything you desire love," he promises, tongue tracing the shape of her clit.

She trembles, a whimper leaving her lips.

He looks at her, ready to pull the stars out of the sky to decorate her hair should she so ask of him.

"I want you to kiss me," she says and he leans closer and kisses her just above those knickers.

She narrows her eyes at him. "I didn't mean that."

"And what did you mean?" he asks, fingers trailing lazily up and down her thighs, always just shy of where she wants him the most.

There is nothing more arousing that straight-laced Chloe talking dirty to him.

"My pussy," she whispers and even in the semi-darkness he can see her cheeks burning.

He leans in slowly and places an open mouthed kiss on her clit. Maybe he sucks a little too.

She moans.

He pulls back again.

"Really Lucifer?" She is close to exasperated now which means very, very horny.

"I certainly did what you asked love. Perhaps if you were more specific..."

"Fine. Fine. I want you to fuck my pussy with your mouth."

She’s annoyed enough that her words are sharp and commanding which only makes them sexier.

"Oh darling, I would love to," he says, fingers pulling her knickers down and off and after a delicious sniff of pure, unadulterated detective scent, stuffs them into his pocket.

As he stands there, on his knees, he wonders what she sees in him when he stares at her like that.

To him she is an ancient, pagan Goddess and he her most loyal, most dedicated worshipper.

He hopes she can see it; all this emotion that runs wild, unfettered in his blood.

Her hand caresses the side of his face, and in her eyes and the silence of that moment he knows that she understands.

That she knows how sickly sweet she makes him feel. That she has turned the Devil into a love struck fool, resembling more a smitten schoolgirl than the (former) King of Hell.

No matter.

Back to the task at hand. Which is to make her see many, many Devil induced stars.

He picks up one sandal clad foot and kisses her ankle as it stands out among the straps. And then proceeds to balance her foot on the edge of a crate full of whiskey bottles.

He kisses slowly up her leg, enjoying the way she pulls at his hair to make him move faster.

And when he reaches the source, he takes his sweet time with her, as if this is the first time he is getting acquainted with this exquisite piece of her anatomy.

Every time she trembles and twitches the crates shake, bottles rattling in their separate spaces.

In the end though, he does exactly what she asked of him. He fucks her with his tongue and dammit him if the feel and the taste of her isn't the most sublime thing ever.

When she comes, it's with her fingers tangled in his hair and his name, breathy and broken on her lips.

He loves it. Absolutely adores it. He feels drunk with the taste of her pleasure and he wants it on his tongue, on his lips always.

She tugs at his hair, pulling him upright. His hands run up her ribcage and cup her breasts, squeezing and pinching softly her pebbled nipples.

"Are you trying to prove a point?" she asks with a breathless laugh. "Whatever it was, consider it proven."

He kisses her, and even though it's meant to be sweet, her taste that lingers on his lips turns it filthy too fast.

"My point, if there is any, is probably too selfish and macho and I sort of hate it but at the same time I can't bloody help myself."

"Which is?" she presses, lips leaving a trail of kisses on his throat.

"That I want you for myself only? That I can't bear the sight of another man's hands around you? Ahhh! That I want you to remember how my tongue feels inside you whenever some bloke makes sweet eyes at you?"

She licks a line up his Adam's apple and he groans, his erection becoming painful.

"Fair point, well made. And the feeling is mutual Lucifer," she says and cups him over his pants.

Oh, the sweet relief.

"Now," she says, hands busy with his belt and button, "what do you desire?”

His eyes move between her hand and her lips, unable to settle. To hear those words, his words, leaving her lips is both odd and lovely.

It’s a role reversal, one that portrays her love, her own desire to please him.

He likes it. He likes it very, very much.

But what does he want?

His desire for her is infinite, inexhaustible. Words will never be enough and that says something coming from the Devil, who simply loves to talk.

“When you saw me walking down those steps, what did you think, hmmm? I saw the way you were looking,” she whispers on his skin while her touch grows more insistent. His hands push against the wall, steadying him while his head drops on her shoulder, his body shuddering under her touch. He nuzzles the soft skin there and kisses his way up her ear.

“I wanted to take you there, against the bloody bar, where everyone could see that this gorgeous creature desires me, belongs to me. And you could watch yourself while the Devil had his wicked way with you.” He bites her earlobe, his hands returning to her waist.

"Oh? You wanted to bend me over the bar then?"

"I did," he admits, nuzzling at her neck.

She pushes him giving herself some room and grabs the crates stacked next to them giving a good shake.

"Seem sturdy enough", she says with a smile and promptly bends over, hands holding onto the crates.

Her spine dips making that delicious bum push upwards. He squeezes her cheeks and then grinds into her, ridiculously turned on.

"Mmm, no mirror unfortunately," she teases.

"That is a problem. We'll have to repeat our performance upstairs later I’m afraid," he promises, bending to catch the edge of her dress.

"I expect nothing less," she says all serious, putting a smile on his face.

His fingers drag up her calf and thigh, knuckles gliding over that pert ass while he drapes the fabric over her back. He steps back to look at her. Her legs are phenomenal and her ass, hanging in the air like that, is simply irresistible.

"Like what you see?” she asks, wiggling a little.

"I more than like darling. You are pure temptation."

He takes off his jacket and throws it on the crates, for once unconcerned even if this is his favorite suit, and drops to his knees, feathering kisses over the curve of her bum. His fingers move inwards finding wet flesh and his thumb caresses her clit making her sigh wantonly.

But he wants more.

Always more.

He presses his face between her legs, and his tongue moves between soft lips, parting them, her taste exquisite and he insatiable.

Her little whimpers and moans spur him on and he can't bloody wait to feel her all around him. With that thought he stands, making quick work of his belt, button and zipper and sinks slowly inside her heat.

Her body's embrace is always perfect but she feels simply exquisite this way, more than enough to ruin him completely.

She lets out a deep groan once he seats himself inside her and he starts moving with long, deep thrusts, desperate to hear her sounds of pleasure.

One of his hands wraps around her hips, keeping her exactly where he wants her while the other tangles in her hair, pulling it slightly, enough to make her arch her back, like some sexy feline in heat.

"You look so incredibly hot like this," he says a little breathless and she pushes back against him.

There is a constant rattling sound from all the crates but he couldn't care less-they could all shatter and break at their feet and he still wouldn't mind (so long as they stayed away from her dainty feet).

"Is it everything you desired?" she stutters out between thrusts.

He stills, leaning on her suddenly, and pulls her further back from her hair, pushing his tongue in her mouth, tasting, claiming her in the only way he can.

The angle may be awkward but the kiss itself is both electric and dirty, all frenzied tongue and teeth clashing, making him shiver with want.

"It's always more. So much more, Chloe," he whispers behind her ear, mouthing at her salty neck. "There are times when I can't quite believe you are mine," he confesses, grinding into her. His thumb pushes in her mouth and she licks and sucks, dragging her teeth over it as he pulls it out, making him jerk and push harder inside her.

"But you are mine, aren't you?" he asks, not quite a question, as his thumb finds her clit. It's swollen and aching for attention which he is more than happy to give.

"Ung, yes, yes. Yours, baby." she groans out. "Don't stop," she says and it's an order, one that makes his balls tighten further with sheer pleasure.

His rhythm picks up then, the sound of his hips slapping against her skin dominating over the rattle and the deep bass of the music in the narrow hallway.

Her orgasm is so sudden it takes both of them by surprise- but the feel of her muscles contracting all around him and the sounds that leave her lips are so exquisite that he can feel his own climax crashing into him with an intensity that leaves him breathless and weak.

He moans long and deep, pulling her closer to him, losing himself in the rapture so lovingly offered by her body, her touch, her smell.

They are both struggling to catch their breaths, as he slips out and she turns around in his arms.

She is wearing a radiant smile and her eyes are brighter than the summer sky.

The mere thought that he is the reason for her happiness makes his insides somersault with a raw kind of bliss.

He captures her lips in a long, ravenous kiss.

"Are you looking for a second round?" she asks breathless, smiling.

"No,” he laughs. “Not now at least. Are you alright, darling?"

"I'm far better than alright Lucifer. But maybe there won't be any more dancing for tonight. My legs feel like jell-o.”

"I’ll give you a proper rub down later Detective," he says kissing her neck, his hands squeezing her sadly neglected breasts.

"I'll hold you to that."

"Now, wait here."

He lets her leaning against the wall with a quick peck on the lips and then reluctantly leaves her. He buttons himself up as he walks to the toilets at the end of the hall. When he returns, he kneels in front of her and carefully cleans her up, while she watches him with a soft smile on her lips.

When he finishes, she unties her bow, redoing her dress, offering him a tantalizing glimpse of a very naked Detective.

"How do I look?"

"Absolutely ravishing. With a perfect case of well-shagged hair!" She slaps his chest playfully and releases the small bun letting all her hair down.

He can't help himself. He pushes her against the wall again, kissing her, his lips both hungry and tender, both needy and giving.

Their foreheads meet, noses rubbing against each other.

When staring into those eyes, he understands why humans look up to the skies for his Father. Those sky-blue orbs hold his very own heaven, one that is far more loving and forgiving than the one he knew, and he is overwhelmed with this feeling surging up inside him.

"Do I make you happy? Because I—“

“Luc—“

“I love you. I love you in a way that I cannot describe. It's all encompassing, both incapacitating and exhilarating. It's a love that makes all the horrors that came before it, worth it. I love you and I ache with it. I love you and when you smile I feel like the luckiest bloke in the whole bloody world. Like now," he says kissing the corner of her mouth that has stretched into a grin. Her hands frame his face and she kisses him softly on the lips.

"Lucifer, baby, I have never been happier. I don't want to ever again imagine my life without you." Me neither, he wants to say but he knows he will have to and he doesn't want that pain to taint her words in this moment. "And of course I love you, too. You are so good Lucifer. So very good. You did not deserve all that has come your way. And I wish that I had react—"

He kisses her again because although he loves her praises, he despises her guilt. Especially its ramifications. Besides, they have talked about this extensively and she has apologized profusely, so, for him, all that belongs to the past and she needs to let go. 

All that matters is that they are here now, together.

"You have promised,” he reminds her.

“That I have,” she agrees squeezing his cheeks. "Perhaps we should return?"

He tags her hand, pulling her off the wall and with a sweeping gesture towards the door he says,

"Ladies first, love!”

Lux is still packed and people are dancing and drinking, perhaps not as oblivious as he would have liked to the Devil’s business. He can feel their eyes following him from the moment they step back outside but he is already busy, scanning the crowd for the rest of their party.

Harrison is nowhere to be found while he can barely see Miss Lopez the way her current friend is wrapped around her. He shows Chloe who smiles indulgently but then promptly pulls him to the bar. Right. He secures an empty stool for her and settles next to her, a tumbler of whiskey appearing next to him.

He really likes his staff.

They drink some more, they talk and all the while his eyes return to that slit of her dress and the very naked Chloe under it.

Maze appears after a while, freshly shagged as well. They exchange knowing smirks.

“Damn Decker. I really didn’t think you had it in you!”

Chloe rolls her eyes and throws some peanuts at her. Maze laughs and walks away once more.

“How are those feet Detective?”

“Sore. So, so sore.”

“Looks like I’ve got work to do then. Shall we?”

Lucifer is nothing if not a devil of his word. Chloe gets a very thorough massage from top to bottom.

And then he very happily lets her top him.

He doesn’t even wake when his phone rings. But she does. And then promptly wakes him up with a soft slap on his face.

(I tried with caresses, she will later claim. But you wouldn’t wake up. And that damned phone wasn’t stopping!

Excuses. She just enjoys slapping him.)

He picks up the phone blindly and walks out of the bedroom, letting his lady love sleep.

“Hello?”

“Still sleeping Morningstar? The early bird catches the worm!”

“I am no bird and I have no interest in worms either. Why are you calling at this ungodly hour?”

“It’s eight,” Harrison says as if that explains everything. “Anyway, I’ll be boarding shortly. I, um, wanted to thank you. About last night.”

“Had fun, did you?” he teases through a yawn. Chloe could wear him out like no other.

“It was… unexpected. And pretty fucking awesome,” Harrison whispers the last part, but the glee in his voice is unmistakable.

“Lovely, dear. Happy flight?”

“I just wanted to thank you. Not just for that, you know? I think you and Decker make a great team. I was a pain in your ass but you handled things very admirably. You’re a stand-up guy Lucifer.”

“Am I supposed to thank you? That last part sounded a bit insulting and I’m not quite awake yet.”

Harrison laughs. “I’ll give you both a call when I’m back in LA. To catch up. Oh, I gotta go. Tell Chloe I’ll send her an autograph to sign.”

Anger flares up inside him at once.

“You most certainly will n—“

“Oh God Luci you’re so easy! Now, I really have to go. See you man,” he says and hangs up.

Luci? That feathered prick of a brother.

He throws his phone on the armchair and returns to bed.

He curls around Chloe and she sighs softly, burrowing closer to him.

 “I crave a love so deep, the ocean would be jealous,” he whispers in her hair, finally fully understanding the sentiment.

And what does the ocean know of depth when compared to the stars and the space between them?

For such is his love.

Without end.

Infinite.

Bottomless.

And it burns brighter than all the stars residing in the endless cosmos combined.

So the ocean might as well turn a putrid green, as he occasionally does, for it could never, ever compare to their love.