phosphoriel | (no subject)

(no subject)

He let the man forget for a while, after setting him free, after lifting the paralysis from his spine and giving him back something resembling the wholeness of his body: all injury healed, all left perfect and unmarred but for the tapestry across his back, the unfurled flower of scars. He took from his mind the hours and hours in a room which existed nowhere, the agony of that sweet silver knife, the hands that held him down, the cock that moved through him. It didn't matter what lingered in his mind; the taint would remain in him, a splintering madness that had no explanation, no words for the scars, for anything that had come before. It wasn't permanent. It would come back to him when Lucifer did.

The bar belowground didn't cater to anyone who wasn't looking for ruin, dark, desperate and smelling of liquor, buried underneath a city without sanctuary, and he found the man there again, came to him dark and beautiful, with hidden wings. He drew him into a black corner, pulled him into his lap and silenced his mouth, his hands touching anything they wanted to, his tongue taking the sharpness of the liquor he'd drunk from his lips, and Lucifer didn't give him his name or give back the memory of his hands on him, not yet. Matt was his, he always would be, and there was time to show him. The man's body was smaller and weaker and easily manipulated, his hands holding his wrists to the wall when at last he lifted his mouth from his to brush it across his ear instead.

“Show me where you live.” The grip loosened, his hands lowered. He cupped the man's cock in long fingers, the heel of his hand grinding slowly against him, over the front of his pants.

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He didn't know what he was searching for when he came to places like this. There was something inside of him that seemed to recognize them but he only ever felt glimpses of what he really wanted in dreams. They were filled with longing and fear and his attempts to recreate the lingering sensation after were usually painful and ugly. Everything he tried fell short. The gaps in his mind meant something but he'd struggled long enough against them to let it go. It didn't matter that at one time he could have recounted his entire existence and then some. The periods of darkness inside of his head ate up the past and the future and he never really understood why the fuck he bothered going through the motions of trying anymore.

Walking into the bar had been an impulse he followed often. Letting the stranger lead him into the corner made his pulse quicken but this could have been any other encounter with any other man. They all blurred in his mind after a while. The shadows that hid them weren't strangers, it was the people who changed, not the anonymity between them. The hands on him were as faceless and restless as this entire city and he kissed back harshly, recklessly giving the man free reign to explore his mouth and his body. The hands that eventually held his wrists to the wall were expected and he didn't move against the restraint, startled only by the demand that came after. Matt hesitated and shifted in Lucifer's grip. "Okay." Meeting Lucifer's eyes, he licked his lips and then lifted his hips to meet the pressure against his cock. "I don't live close by so we'll have to drive." His car was somewhere nearby, some buildings down.

Thinking briefly of his apartment with its paper thin walls and the choking hours of boredom he spent inside of it made him reluctant to go back, especially with a stranger, but he pushed the reluctance away and eased away. "Come on." Stepping back into the rest of the room, he didn't look back. He didn't really need to. The kiss felt like it'd invaded all of his senses. He didn't need to see Lucifer to feel his presence grasping at him.

He stayed with him, stayed close behind him through the room that was dark and filled with smoke and despair, the men turning their faces from him as though to hide the impossibility of yearning; Matt belonged in a place like this, haunted by nameless fears. They were something that Lucifer could taste in him when they kissed. It made him want to lick his eyes and put his fingers over them and blind him in the dark, make him feel nothing but the relentless invasion of his presence, the sweet madness of divinity. He would feel it, Lucifer thought, once he helped him to understand what he was. Someday he would wish for the oblivion that pain could give him.

With a shift of his senses he could have had them back in the man's apartment, a step from one reality to another, but instead he followed him into streets damp and slick with recent rain, air heavy with humidity; the sky was thick unbroken dark and the lights of streetlamps and storefronts glowed. And there were shadows, too, at the edges of light, black wells that reached for him, reached for them both, and in one patch of darkness he dragged Matt into the alley between two buildings and forced him against the rough wall, facing forward, reaching from behind to undo the front of his pants and wrap his fingers around his cock. “How often do you go there?” His voice was soft, his hand hard, brutal around the length of him, the hot weight in his hand; he dragged his pants down his hips and ground forward against his ass, rubbing taunting insinuations. “Is this what you look for? Or is it enough to feel the excess and the ugliness spilling into you?”

His own pants were easily undone. His cock was a hot and thick brand rubbed against the man's ass, guided to his hole to split him open, to ease inch by slow inch inside of him. Lucifer pinned him to the wall and invaded him ruthlessly, kicking his feet wider apart, his fingers expert around his own erection. The heat between them crawled, Matt's skin damp when he licked the nape of his neck. “I think you've always looked for this. Haven't you?”

It was an unsurprising dark they stepped into. The shadows of the bar just seemed to seep out into the streets and flood the entire night with their blind, inhuman need. Matt looked up at the lights and then stepped off the curb, water soaking the bottom of his pants in a puddle and moving on wordlessly. Nights like this had a way of feeling empty, as if the entire world had stopped or fallen asleep. It was a stupid thought when he could hear the murmur of voices from some streets down and held the memory of the men who'd watched them leave. Itching for a cigarette, he almost stopped, and then forced himself to keep going. Lucifer's presence was burning excitement through his veins and thoughts, even before he was forced against the wall.

It smelled wet and if he pressed his face close he could have licked the water crawling down the bricks. He looked down instead. "Three or four times a month," he said, ignoring how his pants went down under the other's pull because the hand around his cock felt so much like something coming into place. His breath caught, almost rising to his toes. Pressing against the pressure of Lucifer rubbing against his ass, he wondered if the man really meant to fuck him right here and then stopped thinking about it at all. There was something dangerous in being touched by the other man but he couldn't help wanting it. "It's not enough to feel it around me. I want more than that."

His words went silent when Lucifer started to inch inside of him. He couldn't really brace himself for that, his face pressing against the wall and his hands reaching for it, scratching against the wet bricks as if he could find something in them to steady himself. He almost tasted the grime in front of him when he inhaled, making an attempt to speak and failing. Matt swallowed hard and then said, "This is what I came here for," forcing the words out. The heat of Lucifer behind him threatened to smother him against the wall and he pushed back against the cock impaling him with a sudden vicious eagerness. There was an impossible reality to being here and at the same time it felt so much like his dreams that he thought they would disappear at any moment. "You are what I came here for." Him or someone like him, keeping him locked in this moment.

“I know.” He bared his teeth like a silent laugh at how Matt shoved back his hips and impaled himself all at once on his cock, and bit viciously into the nape of his neck, breaking the skin with perfect teeth. He licked the blood that welled from the punctures. Buried fully inside of him now, Lucifer held him effortlessly still, a hand on his hip and a hand around his cock, pinning him to the wall with his taller, broader frame. He taunted him with the weight, the heat of him filling his ass, wedged tightly inside of him and unmoving while he sucked at Matt's ear and bit down on the lobe.

Even without the memory of him, even not knowing who he was this man knew that he was his. It pleased him beyond measure, a dark swell of satisfaction within him as he began to move, began to fuck him in short, careful, brutally precise thrusts, barely withdrawing. “I'm not going to let you come,” he murmured to him in a voice like velvet, as dark and caressing as his hands on him. “Not here. I'm going to fuck you until I spill inside of you because I want you to feel my seed in you while you take me to your home.” His hand stroked down to his balls and cupped them, toying idly. His tongue traced the shell of the man's ear. “You're going to be the vessel of my pleasure tonight. You were always meant for my use, you know that, don't you?”

The alley smelled of refuse and there was a disgusting sense of grime and humidity to everything around them, but none of it could touch him, none of it dirtied his hands or his hair or his skin. He was pure, he was whole in a way this man he fucked could never hope to be. Lucifer licked the sweat from his throat, the blood that welled when he bit too hard, the decay and ruin of the city staining his skin. “You whore,” he murmured in his ear with familiar affection, fucking his cock deep into him.

Eyes closing, Matt tried to focus on anything but how Lucifer felt inside of him. The enormity of him was overwhelming and he could feel his breath catching as he waited, the taunt of immobility making him want to swear in frustration. There was dirt under his fingernails from how he scratched at the wall and he reached out behind him to pull at Lucifer impatiently. The other man started to move before he could but he still gripped at his clothes, grinding back against thrusts that weren't enough. He whined, begging with motion for more than this. It made him ache to think of being left unsatisfied so he concentrated on the friction between them and how much better it could be. "I don't care what you do, just fuck me." His head tipped back, resting against Lucifer's shoulder while his balls were toyed with, his spine arching in the sensation. The touch of Lucifer's tongue sweeping over his ear made him moan and his knees hit against the wall jerkily.

"Yes, I'm meant for your use so fucking use me." The wall was rough and uneven, smelling too much of the disease that seemed to catch in the corners of the streets and fill the buildings in this desolate street. He was panting hard, moving restlessly until suddenly Lucifer was too deep inside of him and his fingers tightened on the bricks, his face falling forward to rest against it and drink in its filth with each breath. He could feel the filth working itself into the places in him that were hollowed out by desire and wanted to have as much of this as he could take, harder, until he was torn apart by Lucifer's hands and cock.

“You were waiting for me.” His fingers tightened viciously on Matt's balls for a few moments, then the grip eased away. A hand slid curiously beneath the hem of his shirt, brushing across the familiar pattern of scars, dozens and dozens of them. Tenderly he pushed the man's shirt up and laid the hand against the center of his back to push him forward, bending him from the waist. He dragged his hips back to meet his, nudging his feet still further apart.

“Squeeze my cock with your ass. The sooner I'm finished here, the sooner we can go to your home and give you more of what you want.” There was laughter in his low voice, slightly breathless, his hands gripping his hips while he thrust smoothly and shallowly and quickly, shoving him forward against the wall. The man's body was his toy to be used, to fuck in hard, short motions while he watched him kiss the filthy bricks of the wall, his face, his mouth pressed to it, his hands grasping for purchase. He didn't give him the chance, tearing into him with a few last, brutal strokes before he came, pumping forcefully into his ass, his seed spilling thick and hot and copious. He was silent, only his breath catching, tightening like the grip of his fingers, and at last releasing again in a slow breath; then he slid from him, spilling a last time as he withdrew, staining his asshole and the insides of his thighs. His fingers rubbed tauntingly through the slick trails of semen, pressing against his used hole.

“Let's go.” He slapped his ass affectionately and then stepped away, doing up the front of his own clothing.

The fingers tracing out the scars on his back startled him. There were moments when he stopped thinking of them at all, when they became such a part of him that he didn't need to attempt to understand where they'd come from or what they meant. Lucifer's touch reminded him of his uncertainty about them instantly, making him shiver while sliding down along the wall. He reached up as he went to wrench the goggles down his chin when they pressed too insistently against his face while it scraped over the bricks and he could taste the rain on the them this time while he was fucked hard to the wall, his breath gasped, each thrust leaving him unsteady on his feet. He attempted to do what Lucifer asked unconsciously, because the voice commanding it felt gorgeous running through his mind, making him crave even Lucifer's amusement if it meant hearing the laughter inside of it. "Wait," he started when Lucifer started to come, forgetting that he wasn't supposed to find relief in this at all and straining to anyway, his hands climbing over the wall in an attempt to steady himself while Lucifer spilled in him and then on him. Pushing back against the fingers that pressed against his asshole, he half hoped they would slip inside of him and felt disappointed when they didn't. The slap made him look back and he grimaced, straightening.

Pulling his pants up over filthy thighs and over the evidence of what Lucifer had done to him, he fastened them and the belt up quickly. Glancing at Lucifer, Matt combed his fingers messily through his hair, pushing the goggles back over his eyes after a moment too. It didn't him get a hold of himself and he gestured back the way they'd been walking. "It's this way."

He couldn't focus on anything but how Lucifer's cock had felt on the way to the car. He went to the driver's door and let himself in, unlocking the other door automatically before starting the car. Seeing Lucifer through the glass of the window flustered him and he looked away to hide it, going for a cigarette this time. The window went down while he did and he waited only for Lucifer to be inside the car beside him pulling away from the curb with tight fingers on the wheel and distraction infesting his attempts to concentrate on the road, on the cigarette, on anything but the fact that he could still feel the semen on his skin. Shifting uncomfortably, he smoked when he remembered to and didn't really see the road as he drove.

The other man's tension and discomfort was something he could taste in the air between them, thick as he drove them through the damp streets, and Lucifer, smiling, didn't speak, didn't attempt to ease it. Matt was thinking of him, remembering him, still feeling his cock inside of him and that was enough.

At last they were stopped and climbing the stairs to the place where Matt lived, an apartment that couldn't really be called a home, as desolate as he expected it to be. He could see the man's ruin lurking in the corners of this place, the shadows of the forgotten things he had done to him. There were scars in his mind, too, and they lingered even when the memory of who had put them there didn't, tearing at the very fabric of his being. He moved through the apartment as though it belonged to him as much as Matt did, taking it in, turning at last to face him and crossing the room again to him. He took the cigarette from his mouth and let it fall to the floor, tugged the lenses up and over his head. His fingers brushed the hollows of his cheeks and Lucifer took his mouth again with a gentle, single-minded possessiveness.

“You want me,” he murmured against his lips, his hands lowering to unbuckle his belt, to undo the fastenings of his pants as easily as he had in the alley, dragging them down his hips. He palmed his cock, fingertips finding the fluid at the tip and spreading it with the strokes of his hand, then sliding down to his balls; he tugged at them almost idly, licking at his mouth, and then broke away to go to his knees. Pushing his cock up towards his stomach, he ducked his head to press the flat of his tongue to his balls and suck them into his mouth. The other hand slid between his thighs, fingers pressing slowly into his asshole, still open and slick with his semen.

"I do," Matt agreed, staring at the cigarette on the floor and then on Lucifer's hands on his belt and his pants and how easy it'd been for the man to invade the space of his home. The apartment already felt like a stranger's. He never bothered with many personal touches and there was more trash on the counters than there were possessions but at least they had always been entirely his. The only couch was riddled with holes born out of cigarette burns, stinking of alcohol and nicotine in a way that said it would never be clean again. He never really felt clean enough either.

Being suddenly undressed aroused him instantly, as if he had just been waiting the entire time for this, for the way Lucifer stroked down to his balls and drove his hips forward in want. His hips jerked uncontrollably the moment it was Lucifer's mouth on him and anticipation started to crawl in then, making its way down his spine to grip his cock, his legs inching apart when Lucifer's hand went between them to push fingers into his ass. He moaned, breathing out the sound, his fingers finding Lucifer's shoulder and his hair while his eyes sought Lucifer's. "Suck me off," he urged, drawn to the way Lucifer looked on his knees despite the way he knew this wasn't exactly what he wanted. Reaching back he found Lucifer's hand and ground back against his fingers, arching hard toward him, wanting every insinuation that hid inside his smile.

He licked the seam of his balls, his tongue stroking, toying with him, his teeth catching at the skin and tugging lightly. Lucifer glanced up briefly and smiled without response; his lips drew his scrotum into the wet suction of his mouth again and he drove his fingers into him to the knuckles, fucking them into him, ignoring the way the man gripped his hand and arched towards his touch. It was intriguing, being on his knees before him; they'd never had the chance to do this before, when Matt's paralysis meant that he couldn't move let alone stand, that his body was entirely Lucifer's to manipulate; he'd taken a great deal of pleasure in the use of him. Perhaps someday he would give him back the paralysis, let him be mired once again in the helpless fury and loathing of being his toy.

He kissed the side of the man's cock, rubbed his cheek against it, pale lashes lowering over his eyes, but he didn't put it into his mouth. He fit another finger into him, rocking them into him smoothly and hard, forcing him to stretch, forcing him open; his eyes opened and lifted again. “I'm not going to suck you off. Slowly he stopped, let his hand fall away and got to his feet again, his hand curving over the nape of Matt's neck; his teeth sank into his lip to drag it apart from the upper and his tongue forced its way into his mouth. He kissed him as though to take the breath out of his lungs and then murmured against his mouth, “I'd rather break you open than let you come in my mouth. I think I'll fuck your ass with my fist. I want to linger in you this time, my love.”

The endearments were different from what he was used to. The familiarity Lucifer took with his body was close to something he'd felt before though and he ignored the unease, straining to feel their bodies close against each other. He answered Lucifer's words with a kiss, teeth against the other's lips to tempt and taunt while his bare hips pushed against him. "You want both," he said against Lucifer's mouth, finally pulling away. "Let me come in your mouth while you fuck me with your fist."

He took steps away now, feeling his way around the couch with hands on the arm while he reached down to pull off his boots and tossed them aside. He finished pulling off his pants and his skin still felt Lucifer's mouth and hands on it, making him shudder and his skin feel tight with desire at the memory. When he started forward he ran his fingers through Lucifer's hair like he'd been itching to the moment he'd seen him. "If I run, will you come after me?" He licked his lips and thought he could taste Lucifer's skin too from how close their faces. Thinking of being simply overwhelmed by this stranger was intoxicating and made him forget everything he thought he wanted.

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