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Lucifer chooses to ignore what's going through Dean's head, which is a lot easier to do than when Dean isn't letting his brain to mouth filter work.

"I'm going to give you a choice here. It's not either/or, both will be happening. The choice is in which will happen first. Understand?" Lucifer only waits a beat to let what he's said so far to sink in before continuing. "The choice is you on your hands and knees or just knees first."

As much as Dean's mind fought against it, he was fully aware of the fact that 'neither' was not an option here. Because while it might've been easy to think that way, it would've been a hell of a lot harder to manage it.

Another moment of furious thinking left Dean actually trying to figure out which option he could stand first; not that it mattered much when apparently both were on the table. At least going on his knees would mean recovery from having his ass in the air, but that hardly meant anything when he knew where his face was going to be stuffed. But he could pretend that it came with a reprieve, tell himself that he could stand it because he didn't really want it. All of it cycled frantically through his mind until it left it there, letting Lucifer decipher his thoughts while he tried to keep his breathing some semblance of steady.

Lucifer waits patiently for the hamster to stop running on its wheel, aware that Dean needed a moment to panic before actually weighing the options.

"So, knees it is," he says when Dean's done with his mental flailing. He sees that little trip down the Nile Dean's taking. He'll get to that later. Maybe. "Am I going to need to tie your hands behind you to make you behave or can I leave them free?"

Dean is really getting abysmally tired of this mental chatter thing, no matter how dependent he has to be on it for the time being. Mostly because it makes it infinitely more difficult to lie through his teeth - he would've claimed that behaving was first on his to do list when his mind is already weaving tales of what exactly he'd do with his hands given the prime opportunity.

He's not even fully sure he'd be capable of helping himself, in the wrong kind of way. He just can't even begin to manage that level of self control, already trying to contain the possibility by pressing his palms against the sheets. Squirming wasn't much of a possibility but he could still attempt it, not really wanting to lose even more faculties.

"I see. It's best not to trust that you're capable of controlling yourself," Lucifer says, getting off Dean to take firm hold of his wrists to pull his hands behind him, cuffing them in short order.

Rather than standard handcuffs, these were smooth bands of steel about three inches in width with a six inch chain. Easier on Dean's wrists and shoulders than regular handcuffs by far, even if completely inescapable from without outside help.

Then he's off Dean the rest of the way, getting himself cleaned off with a thought. Time to see if Dean decides to attempt a tantrum over the restraints or if he'll move to his knees on the floor without prompting. Lucifer's betting on some version of the former.

At least Dean expects it this time around, and while Dean can't stop from giving a stern wriggle of his shoulders, the last thing he needs during this particular experience is to dislocate them in the process. It sure as hell wouldn't stop Lucifer and it'd be a foul price to pray while sucking cock.

He can, at the very least, appreciate the fact that Lucifer hasn't used legitimate handcuffs - the kind that dug painfully deep. The amount of wringing he's already doing without truly intending on it is half on account of Lucifer finally getting up off him, accompanied by Dean's attempt to right himself. Trying to keep his balance, Dean jams a shoulder against the mattress, pulling his knees up and rucking the sheets beneath him. It's precarious, but in no way is he rolling around - he's holding on to at least a modicum of his pride by attempting it himself, heaving himself up until he's situated on his haunches.

Well. Dean actually skipped trying to have a fit. Apparently, the man feels like providing a surprise.

Lucifer waits for Dean to maneuver himself without comment. No need to say something and make Dean change his mind about not going into a snit. He will, however, say something if Dean decides to stop there instead of moving to the floor.

The fact that Lucifer stays silent throughout the whole thing, watching without comment, is enough to put Dean's teeth on edge. There's too much silence and not being able to throw his voice into the ring as a provided distraction is almost painful. It makes it that much harder to assess the situation, try to decide how he's supposed to get down onto the floor from where he's situated. Which really just means he's not overly inclined to do it without a hint of coercion.

Finally staring straight back at Lucifer, settling back pointedly, Dean finds it harder to move the longer he waits. He's fully aware of who's going to win this staring match, but it doesn't mean he's not willing to play.

"Did you forget how to move?" Lucifer says pointedly after a moment when it becomes clear that Dean wasn't going anywhere. If he has to move Dean himself, he will, although Dean isn't likely to like how he goes about it.

Dean is fully aware that it's now or never, that if he wants to take control of this moment, he might as well do it now before the opportunity is handed over. He still makes as if to grumble in the back of his throat, despite the inability to make sounds, bowing his head down against the frustration. It's a few more seconds before he finally makes do and gets moving. Popping back up onto his knees, Dean scoots his way down onto the edge of the bed, easing his legs down until he can properly stand up onto his feet.

Standing before Lucifer, the temptation to do something - anything at all - is distressingly loud, counting down the seconds while he decides if it's worth it to take advantage.

"You may want to think very carefully if it's worth making me angry," Lucifer warns. If Dean was considering doing something stupid like kick him, he would not be amused. At all. Never mind that the one Dean would be hurting would be himself.

Seeing as they stand practically eye to eye, the idea of kicking Lucifer in the shins is the last thing on Dean's mind. Really, there's a multitude of other things racing through his head, not wholly defined by their nudity but definitely helped by it. Knees could be aimed, heads could be cracked - oh, the possibilities. And somehow it might be worth it to soothe Dean's fraying ego.

Instead, Dean manages a faint smirk, all before snapping his teeth together in what could be taken as a light heartedly menacing gesture. But maybe not so much when Dean's direction was meant to be down.

Lucifer's hand snaps up to hold Dean's jaw in a painfully tight grip. "I will ensure you can do no such thing if I have to."

He provides an image of Dean with a ring gag to force his mouth to stay open to make his point.

Despite attempting to wrench his head back out of Lucifer's grip, Dean still maintains his tinge of amusement.. at least until a vivid image pops up into his head.

Kinky fucker.

And not in a particularly good way, Dean left with a resoundingly bad taste in his mouth at the idea. It'd be just one more means of trussing him up, and especially with his hands already behind his back, he's not sure he can stand the idea. Doesn't mean it doesn't still hold its on entertainment value, a weak point in Lucifer's plan. And yet there's a slowly growing appeal to the idea of being the one to make Lucifer quake; Dean's just finding it hard to drop, squirming to get out of Lucifer's hold.

"So. Will you behave on your own or will I have to make you?" Lucifer asks in a deadly quiet voice, not releasing his grip on Dean's jaw. If Dean has even two brain cells to rub together, the answer had better be yes, he's planning to behave. Lucifer could do quite a bit more than just what he's done so far and has threatened to do in order to immobilize Dean.

That would also be the point where he stops caring if Dean gets any enjoyment out of this tryst.

If he'd been allowed to speak, the reply would've been an easy 'I'm good.' But somehow it's infinitely harder to just straight up nod, as if outright compliance is somehow a painful act. But after staring for what feels like too long, Dean finally manages it once, tipping his head. Considering he's got more than a few brain cells left, and how he'd like to leave them intact, he figures he might as well be good for this portion of the show.

At least he'd find a way to get a kick out of it somehow.

Lucifer releases Dean's jaw to allow him to move, watching him like a hawk. "On your knees. Now."

Don't make him give the order twice.

Rolling his head back on his shoulders once he's let go of, Dean still takes a hot second to get his bearings before his frustrations get the better of him. And before he can let himself do anything stupid, he drops, going precariously down to one knee and then onto both, finding himself face to face with Lucifer's cock. Which is, to put it bluntly, a position he never thought he'd find himself in, swallowing thickly now that reality is coming to a head.

Lucifer tangles the fingers of one hand in Dean's hair as he looks down at him. So far as he was concerned, Dean was right where he belonged; on his knees in submission to him. If only Michael could see this right now.

As uncomfortable as it could've been, having Lucifer's fingers curled into his hair wasn't actually the worst thing in the world. It was distressing enough to be held in place that Dean's breath quickened - mind racing to decide what to do next - but mostly because he had put himself here. The theory of this was was infinitely worse than the practice, which was exactly the problem.

Dean just didn't know how or where he was supposed to start. And he wasn't about to dive in just for fun, lips parting as he flicked his gaze back up to Lucifer, a touch lost.

"I'm sure you've received plenty of blow jobs from your conquests. You might want to start with what you knows feels good when you're on the receiving end," Lucifer says, taking pity on Dean after a moment to put the hamster that was Dean's mind back on the wheel.

While Dean can think through that logically enough; acting on it is a whole different ballgame.

Getting over the hurdle of starting is going to the roughest, his gaze flicking back down to take in the sights. How is he just supposed to jump in on this? It isn't exactly like he'd had practice with someone other than the Devil which somehow makes the act of opening his mouth significantly harder. And to think, all he wanted to do is talk. Now he can't even crack a grin.

Leaning in closer, Dean dares himself to go for it, to get it over with, to just fucking do it. His lips even part, finding himself breathing significantly harder before he just goes and clams up.

"My patience isn't limitless," Lucifer points out in a mild tone as he watches Dean's mental wrestling match. He's aware this was difficult for Dean, which is why he isn't pushing too hard yet. Still, as he said; he's not going to wait forever.

Clock ticking loudly in his brain, Dean is fully aware of the time constraints laid out before him. It doesn't make it easier to do anything, but at the very least it means he has to come to a conclusion.

With it comes the realization that having control of his hands might've been useful, at least for the means of holding on to Lucifer with. Because now he has to go bobbing for it, one more notch added to his list of humiliations. There's just nothing left for him but to do it, scooting his way in closer until all it really should take is a quick, unjustifiable act. Which Dean... just can't seem to go through with, wrenching himself back fully until he's leaning onto his heels, staring holes in Lucifer's hips.

If Dean felt like cooperating and proving that Lucifer could leave his hands free, he would have have them available to use. But he didn't, so he doesn't. He shall just have to reap what he's sown.

Lucifer's hand tightens in Dean's hair warningly. "Dean. You don't have all night."

Edited (Too many hands all up in this comment.) 2016-03-09 01:40 (UTC)

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