Work Text:
You reached a hand to run your fingers through his hair. It spilled past his shoulders, the ends of it bunched into loose coils. You didn't know what compelled you to do so. Just a solitary voice that buzzed in your ear, urged you to feel him, comfort him.
As your hand inched forward, his shot up, his own grip crushing your fingers. He looked up, eyes squinted and laden with sleep. His gaze softened when he saw it was you.
"Apologies, I thought you were Satan trying to play a trick on me."
You assured him it was fine, understood his caution.
"What are you doing up so late?" He asked. He leaned back into his chair, stifled a yawn as he did so.
"I went to get a glass of water but I saw your light on. I wanted to check on you." You stood, hands tugging nervously at the end of your top. You felt silly now that he'd caught you. What were you thinking? What was the point in this in the first place?
"Thank you," he said. "I appreciate it. Truly."
You nodded, smiled apprehensively at the growing silence. Lucifer sighed loud and weary. "I still have so much to do," he murmured, more to himself than to you. He went to pick up the pen on the floor underneath his desk. You noticed the imprint on his face left by the creases of his shirt, the lethargic motion of his body when it was usually sharp, purposeful.
"Shouldn't you go to sleep? There's time in the morning to finish up what's left."
Lucifer picked a thick packet of papers from the stack on, eyes poring over the pages quickly, "Not yet. This is all due in the coming week, I can't waste anymore time."
"Lucifer," you said with as much conviction you could muster. He ignored you, flipped to another page in the packet.
You repeated his name and he ignored you once more. The voice from earlier whispered to you again, told you to go to him. And so, you did.
You paced forward and went behind his desk. He made no note of your closeness.
You lowered your voice to a whisper, reached out to him again and said, "Luci."
He lifted his head to look at you, an eyebrow raised. It felt like you'd challenged him with the use of the nickname. It was no use stopping now. You took another step, whispered again in that same tone, "You work so hard. Please , go to bed."
He saw your outstretched hand, the sincerity in your eyes. He didn't say a word in response. Instead, he took your hand into his own and pulled you to him. You stumbled the rest of the distance and he slid you into his lap.
Your heart hammered in your chest but the voice hummed eagerly, greedily , at his warmth against yours. The two of you moved like a well oiled machine, his arms circled your waist, his head bent forward and leaned against your chest (you were sure he could hear your hummingbird heart with the way it pounded so fast in your chest). You plunged your hands into his hair. Your fingers combed through it, massaged his scalp.
You enveloped one another. There was nothing but you and Lucifer in those moments. The soft sound of your breaths, the sensation of his arms around waist, the slow kind of exhale, the one that let the world know you've found your relief, your repose.
Lucifer is the one who broke the silence. He lifted his head and looked at you with a drowsy half smile and mumbled, "So tired."
You laughed softly, "Of course you are. Come to bed."
He nodded in agreement.
You unwound yourself from him, hands still clasped together as you led him to his bed. He made his way beneath the covers and he watched as you bustled about, turning on a quiet piano track, turning off each lamp till the room was in complete darkness.
You didn't want to leave like this. You felt the voice murmur in protest but you hushed it. You've crossed enough lines tonight. It was time for you to return to your room. (To sit up and feel the ghost pressure of his arms around you, recall the strands of his dark hair between your fingers, to know that you wanted more and admonish yourself for not taking your chance.)
"Goodnight Lucifer," you said to him in the dark. You'd begun to walk towards the door but his voice stopped you in your tracks.
"Wait." You turned in his direction, watched his silhouette rise.
"Yes?"
"Will you stay tonight?"
You said nothing. Simply, turning back to him, untucking the sheet on the other side of the bed and sliding in beside him. You could hear the content smile on his face as he inched closer to you, arm slung lazily around you again.
Your fingers moved on their own, trailing up and down the line of his spine. He was closer than ever, you felt his breath tickle against your throat.
You felt him lift his head, then something warm on your neck. His lips, you realized. Your breath hitched in your throat. You felt them move as he spoke. The tiniest motion sent a shudder down your spine.
"Thank you," Lucifer said, his voice like a purr, "Goodnight, love."
You lay there stunned and then a giddiness arose in you, like a child allowed copious amounts of their favorite candy. You smiled to yourself so hard you thought your cheeks would split.
Lucifer, on the other hand, slept deeply, unaware of your sudden burst of excitement. You thought you'd never get to sleep but soon after, the exhilaration settled and your eyes grew heavy. You drifted in and out of consciousness but finally, it was the soothing song of Lucifer's breathing that lulled you to sleep.