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Lucifer laughed, a true laugh for once, a little less mocking than usual. When he laid his hand on his brother's chest again, half the lights on the eastern seaboard flickered. They were engulfed in it, resplendent; two archangels winding their grace together, twisting wings about wings. The bed was an illusion as much as anything else, an earthly distraction, and Lucifer pulled Gabriel away from it, and stripped him uniformly. The next time their lips met, the power actually went out--but it wasn't for them, one shining window in the New York skyline pouring heavenly light like a beacon.

"Something like that?"

"Yeah. Something like," he says, a little dazed. Apparently, it's been longer than he thought since the last time he'd done anything like.

"I think we broke the electricity," he adds with a smirk before eagerly kissing his brother again, working to get Lucifer naked as well. Turnabout was fair play in this instance and he's eager for more.

Good he thought. They could do without it for a while. It was good to knock his brother back a little, surprise him, and Gabriel was clearly enjoying the exercise; even as they broke physics, fell through dimensions and back again, without ever losing their place. His clothes were lost between planes of matter, and he poured himself into the kiss, physically lashing his tongue against Gabriel's, yes, but reaching inside him to twist possessively around his spirit too.

His hands were still soft - impossibly soft, considering the other efforts he was going to - as though the last thing he ever intended was to leave a single bruise on his brother's body. None the less he curled them eagerly about Gabriel's ass, tugging him closer, pulling him up to meet the thrust of his hips.

Could they really be said to be breaking physics when they've never been constrained by them in the first place?

Gabriel gasps into the kiss as he felt Lucifer tighten around him, some bit of himself trying to return the favor a small amount although he's quite certain that his big brother intends to be the driver.

He eagerly rocks against Lucifer, even as his arms go up to drape themselves over the back of his brother's neck. So far as he's concerned, they could return to the bed at any time now.

Lucifer is much of a same mind. The bed, the apartment, everything clicks back into place, even the lights come back on--everywhere but with them. In the bedroom only the illumination of the streetlights stays with them, and Lucifer's fingers slither down Gabriel's thighs, urging him to wrap his legs around him.

"I can't hurt you, Gabriel. Not even a little." Not even as much as was necessary. "Not until you release me from my promise. Release me, Gabriel."

Gabriel doesn't need much prompting to wrap his legs around his brother's waist, eyes not quite focusing right. He nods, licking his lips. "Sure, okay. You can hurt me."

He tugs slightly at the back of Lucifer's neck, trying to urge him over to the bed. The sooner they move on, the better.

That was what he wanted to hear. He dug his fingernails into Gabriel's skin, and with a strong flap of his wings, they moved back to the bed. There was strength there; he pinned him down, bent him over underneath him, his arms locking underneath Gabriel's knees, his face hovering between them.

Pain was nothing. Irrelevant. Preparation was for humans, for the fragile, and Gabriel was an archangel. His little brother, practically a god in his own right--certainly more godly than those who claimed the title.

He pinned him down, kept Gabriel's gaze, and pressed himself inside.

"Ahh..." A shudder runs down Gabriel's back as he feels his brother start to fill him, back arching slightly. He lets go of Lucifer, forming a tight grip in the blankets under him instead. No point accidentally drawing blood even if the injury would heal near immediately.

He gives his brother a shaky grin. "Planning on teasing me first?"

"If that's what you want. I could just stay here. A week or two; a month, an eternity. Let you feel me."

He shivered, though, because that wasn't what he wanted at all, and Gabriel could probably see through his desire. Gabriel knew him better than he did; he had experience that Lucifer didn't, and yet--

He pulled him closer abruptly, and his hands pulled up, took hold of Gabriel's shoulders and anchored himself. His thrust was rough, enough to make the earth shake, if only they were really still attached to it.

Edited 2015-04-07 00:21 (UTC)

Gabriel's response is lost as he cries out instead, rocking his hips up to meet his brother. It's only a split second decision to open himself up for Lucifer, make it easier to sense the best ways to get the reactions he wants out of him.

He lets his eyes fall shut as he pants for breath, aware of each thrust into him and very aware of who was doing it. To say that he wasn't expecting to be doing this with Lucifer, of all people, an hour ago was an understatement.

Lucifer couldn't remember the last time he could read Gabriel the way that he can read him now. It was so long ago that it's like walking full on into a wave. It's almost like being welcomed home, and who knew how he secretly craved that, hungered for that forgiveness and acceptance. He wreathed himself in Gabriel's presence, his soul, his thoughts and feelings, and when Gabriel responded, so Lucifer responded too, adapting to his brother's gasps by delivering exactly the kinds of thrusts that deepened his pleasure.

And in euphoria he laughed, and pressed his face closer to Gabriel's throat. It was close and intense and...and human, terribly human, but he couldn't find it in him to care.

"What next?" he urged. "Show me."

Teetering on the edge of release, Gabriel relays without words what the little bit more needed was along with a questioning feel that asks how Lucifer was doing. He keeps his body rocking against his brother, not wanting to stop and not sure he could stop, and tilts his head farther back to expose his throat to Lucifer further.

He wanted--no, needed--to be marked up, aware that this particular injury would probably stick around for a little while after as a reminder that tonight actually happened.

The laugh became a low, deep growl, and his thrusts became rougher, tugging Gabriel's body higher, folding him in tighter. His nails were impossibly sharp, drawing blood, but quite clearly that wasn't enough. Gabriel showed him that he wanted more. He laid the invitation out so clearly that Lucifer, panting against his throat, felt the odd thrill ripple through him straight out of his brother's spirit.

Mark him. Mark Gabriel. Mar his brother's body and spirit with a physical stain, something possessive that would perhaps fade with time. The open expanse of Gabriel's throat was plenty inviting, and he grazed his teeth against skin, bit down and then drew in his breath, sucking a mark out with teeth and curling tongue. But more than that, the bruise crawled beyond his mouth, Enochian symbols in purple red that identified Gabriel's possessor, as though Lucifer had written his name there with a thought.

It was what Gabriel had wanted.

Gabriel cries out as he comes, painting both their bellies and his fists ripping the blankets under them; his power unleashing and shattering every light bulb in the building. He pants for breath after, head still tilted back for Lucifer and able to feel the spread and permanence of what Lucifer was doing.

"Brother," he gasps, a thrill running through him as he forces himself to let go of the blankets and wrap his arms around Lucifer in a tight hug, rocking up against him again and tightening around him. "Your turn."

This time he didn't need the instruction. After Gabriel's release, that outpouring of energy, it was the gentle embrace of his arms that most promised him completion. His brother held him, and welcomed his touch, and when he rolled his tongue against the heated mark he'd left behind on Gabriel's skin, all the elements clicked neatly into place.

If only Gabriel hadn't run from him. The ways that they might have been together, the oceans that would have parted beneath them. He could have been inside him in every way, but most importantly this way, spilling over with his seed, spilling over with divine light; his skin, his eyes, his mouth, and Lucifer warm to the touch for the first time in a long time. Even the mark he'd left glowed, pulsed in throbbing time with his release.

Lightbulbs didn't shatter. Or eardrums. Beyond the light, any earth-shattering power poured into Gabriel alone, though the limbs of the bed did break, depositing the sommelier on the floor. And then the lightbringer fell, exhausted, into the safety of his younger brother's arms.

Gabriel gasps as Lucifer fills him with energy, glowing brightly before it quickly fades. And then the bed breaks and he yelps as they abruptly go down, reflexively hugging his brother a little tighter.

He pants for breath as he takes a moment to recover, wrapping his legs around his brothers waist for in case he's gotten any ideas about going someplace. Then, in a faintly accusing tone, "You broke my bed."

Sure, a little anti-climatic after all that, but it was meant to be.

Lucifer does briefly consider pulling away, making himself more comfortable, especially after the fall, but the moment that Gabriel loops his legs around him, he settles. It's much better to curl into Gabriel's embrace, his breathing still heavy, his eyes closed. He opened one to take in the shattered frame of the bed, far beyond saving.

"Mm," he groused. "I prefer it on the floor anyway."

He uncoiled slightly, dropping his weight toward his left shoulder, bringing his right hand up to trace the patterns on Gabriel's throat. "I could get used to this."

A shudder runs down Gabriel's back and he tilts his head back slightly. Okay, that's sensitive. Given who put it there, it'll probably just work for Lucifer. Not that he minds. It's probably best if not everybody he sleeps with can turn him into a puddle of goo that easily. "Mmm. Which part? The bed-breaking sex or what you're touching right now?"

Probably best. Lucifer would have to step in to show his dissent if Gabriel got his kicks anywhere else. He couldn't help his jealousy--he'd been created with it, after all.

Gabriel wasn't going anywhere as long as Lucifer was with him, hovering. He kept his exploration to his brother's throat.

"I like the idea of you belonging to me. To anyone. It's a refreshing change."

Gabriel snorts softly. "I'm pretty sure that you'd get your shorts in a knot if anyone else tried to claim me."

He shivers and and has to resist the urge to rock up against his brother again. He'd like to have a few more minutes to recover before doing anything more. "Having fun poking the new button?"

"There wouldn't be anything left of them if they tried."

He smiled through the absolute threat, his tone more than sugary sweet, leaning in to exhale against the mark. It shimmered gold as he did, invitingly.

"Actually I'm thinking about ways to make it more permanent."

"It's probably just as well that my ex doesn't want me back, because I'd have to be upset if you tried to kill her. Again," he says before gasping quietly as he feels the mark on his throat change. "You are, huh? I can already tell that this one'll last a good long while, even by our standards."

"You're far better off without her." His fingers wandered up, then back, and he smiled, leaning up into Gabriel's space, moving his lips against the corner of his mouth, sighing against his lips.

"I shouldn't ask you how busy you were, how many times you've done--this. I don't think I'd like the answer. But I want to erase every memory of their touch from your skin. You're too good for them, Gabriel."

"Turns out she's not too fond of archangels and you kinda proved her point. Well done." Okay, this probably isn't the time for snark.

"Would it make you feel better to know that a lot of the time, it involved Grace constructs, given that I have a lot more stamina than most?" He starts running one hand idly up and down Lucifer's back as something to do.

Lucifer just looks immensely proud of himself, until Gabriel's hand takes his mind off being completely smug. He shivers, a flicker of something a little more helpless showing through his expression. It's not like he's as practiced in all this as Gabriel. Where would he have found acceptable companions? It was exactly as Gabriel had implied: he'd be much less stressed out if he got laid once in a while.

"It helps." He tipped his head, and two voluptuous women - constructs, of course - were laid out to either side of them. Their hands wandered across Gabriel's chest, stroked his arms.

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