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He appeared at the top of the stairs, just because it gave him the chance to make an impression as he descended them. His hands dropped into the pockets of the black trenchcoat he'd picked up to replace Castiel's. He wore his white shirt, the top buttons undone, with nothing else over it, the shirt tucked into black pants, with a shiny black belt and silver buckle closing them. Even his shoes shone, like the blue of his eyes, seemingly made more "ravish me" blue by the way his hair had been pulled rakishly aside, ruffled with gel. It was a new look, a good look--a Lucifer look.
He trotted down the stairs, and gave a sharp, loud whistle:
"Honey, I'm home."
Dean heard boots on the stairs but instead of looking he just called out. "Forget something?" He asked thinking it was Sam. It wasn't until Lucifer spoke that Dean's head shot up quickly and his eyes landed on the vessel of his once best friend.
"How did!?" He was up out of the chair in a moment, book on the floor as he faced off against the archangel. They'd warded the bunker, how had he managed to just stroll in the front door like he owned the place?
What Sam said was exactly what was going through Eliot's physique. His body wanted to shut down post orgasm, lulled to false security in its post coital bliss, and Eliot had to fight against every slowing heartbeat to stay alert and aware. The wind down after sex was one of the human body's most vulnerable moments and there was a very real danger of being caught with his guard down. Having it all mocked back at him only made Eliot more determined to not let it happen.
Getting the dildo taken out was a relief, but only pulled him further into that disarming state of relaxation that he tried to guard against. Yet despite all the awareness that Eliot kept on the demon, he was still completely unprepared for the hard solid erection that suddenly took him from behind. He jerked under Sam, bucking in a futile struggle against the ground with no real hope of dislodging the demon draped on top of him. Again it didn't hurt, the dildo and Sam fucking him with it had prepared him more than enough for the entry, physically, but he still felt like he was speared like an unsuspecting fish.
Maybe demon physiology allowed Sam to get it up so soon after his last orgasm, but Eliot remained completely limp even when he felt the cock bottom out to press against his prostate. He closed his eyes again, shame and anger mixing together into a quiet fuming blend that he was helpless to do anything about. He had no snappy comeback, not so soon. This was Hell, it was torture, and he was aware that not all of it had to be painful. Maybe they finally found the right way to torture a man who wasn't afraid of pain.
He folded his arms across his chest. "In fact, you can blame Sam for a lot of things, but let's start with the fact that Castiel here would have never have been in my Cage at all if he hadn't gone against your instructions."
"You know, I even thought he'd go through with it for a second there. Deal with the Devil..."
As he spoke, he descended the stairs still, hands in his pockets, before on the last step he pulled them free and gestured to himself.
"How do you like the new look?"
He also had a point about his gaining access to Cas. If Sam had waited like he'd asked then it might not of happened. Of course it wasn't like Dean had any control of Amara showing up and whisking off like that.
His eyes trailed over the figure descending the stairs because like it or not he did have a thing for Cas and while the one wearing him wasn't his best friend, visually...it was.
"I don't like it. You should leave." Dean said actually proud his voice came out stronger than he felt. He was at a supreme disadvantage and while he was slowly backing up he knew in the blink of an eye, Lucifer could be right in front of him. He tried to avoid jerky movements for now, best to try and keep him calm.
But he wasn't there yet. Eliot just thought he was damned, and while it was true that Sam had been corrupted, the way he clung to his own pride was in of itself very human. He still knew who he was, and what he meant to Lucifer, and as bedraggled as it was, his soul was still his own. Sam had never died, and so he'd never gone to Hell in the traditional sense. It made what was being done to him more abominable, for he hadn't earned it.
Sex destroyed pride, but being on the other end of it when it was forced? That was far more demeaning than being on this end. At least he had that to comfort himself. For once, the one being tortured in this situation wasn't him, wasn't that of an innocent, but someone who had earned their place here, damned themselves. Eliot should have expected torture, and Sam wasn't going to hold back on a punishment that he'd receive anyway.
He unbound his wrists with a touch, then lifted Eliot bodily off the ground, bringing his own knees up so that he sat across Eliot's calves, the other man sat in his lap. It didn't give him a very good angle, but then Sam was in no kind of hurry.
"Wake you up any?"
Hell, he could take as much time as he liked, there was no rush, and the way that Dean was looking at him wasn't all fear like it ought to be. He raised his hand, touching it to the center of his chest, and ran down the length of the white shirt with just the tips of his fingers.
"You are, aren't you? You think I'm sexy."
A pause, thoughtful, inward searching, and then a bark of laughter. "Oh my. You can't possibly think you can hide that away from me, do you? Naughty seraph. I think I'll tell him, just for that."
He stepped closer again, putting his hands back into his pockets and opening the coat a little wider as he gestured a shrug. "He knows it's not just a friendship thing that you want from him, and he's been purposefully pretending not to notice all this time. I think that's called "stringing you along"."
"No, I don't think You are sexy." The fact that he finds Cas sexy remains unsaid and Dean takes a moment to watch him before jerking sharply to the left and breaking into a flat out run. He needs to get deeper into the bunker, if he can reach their panic room he might be able to wait it out until Sam comes...or Lucifer gets bored.
He pressed in close, then, rubbing his body up against Dean's, looking right into his eyes.
"You see, Dean, the thing is... Castiel here? He used a whole lot of energy stopping me from killing Sam. He doesn't quite have the strength to intervene now, even if he had the heart to, and a little part of him? A little part of him desperately wants this too, denied it in himself because he was afraid. All that time you were together in Purgatory..."
He bent in closer, pressing his lips to Dean's jaw. "He doesn't recall it so well, but I do. I can unbreak all the little barriers that Naomi put up in here. The primal energy of it, surely you remember?"
Dean struggled, pulling at the hands griping his wrists in an effort to be free. Once again he's found himself at Lucifer's mercy. It seems to happen more often than he cares to admit.
"Why the hell do you keep coming after me?" He's not just referring to the whole thing with the Darkness. It's happened before where Lucifer seemed intent on claiming him in addition to Sam.
Then Lucifer had to start telling him things about how Cas felt. He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to know through Lucifer. If Cas wanted him to know he would have told him himself. When he pressed closer, lips trailing over his jaw, Dean realized just how close they were and that Lucifer was actually rocking against him, making him feel Castiel's
body.
"Cas man..please...you gotta try." Dean implored. He heard Lucifer, Cas used too much energy to save his younger brother and of that he was eternally grateful, but now he needed help. He just hoped he could survive whatever was coming his way.
Sam shouldn't have released Eliot's hands. It made maneuvering him easier, certainly, and lifting and positioning him, but that was the extent of his advantage. The downside, however, meant Eliot was unbound. A normal person's reflexes were slowed post orgasm, the body relaxed after copulating and there was no changing the physical biological response, but it was pure sloppiness if the person allowed their awareness to slip. And Hell wouldn't want Eliot if he was the type to be sloppy. Neck deep in enemy territory, the sex forced into him, he would downright idiotic to let his attention slip that far.
"Sure, all rise and shine."
When Sam pulled him up, Eliot brought one freed hand forward as expected to support himself, but the other swung around with his elbow aiming for Sam behind him. It was a difficult position, awkward for both of them, but even if Sam was anticipating a fight, his attention was split between that and actually fucking Eliot. He used his elbow for the blow, all hard bone and sharp angle, and applying the momentum of his turn to make up for his weakened muscles.
Little did Sam know, it was probably planned for them to be paired this way; a torturer who wasn't quite heartless, a damned man who wasn't quite evil. It was his deeds that sent Eliot down here, not his natural alignment, which was why real effort had to be put into changing his predisposition. Eliot had spent the last several years of his life helping people, fighting the good fight, not for any redemption but minimizing the damage he had done in life. Sam, in his situation, would have been one of those victims who Eliot would have helped in his recent years. This was meant to change both of them, but it was not something that would happen in hours.
He reached up with his free hand, and gave Dean a rough slap across the face.
"Don't talk to him, talk to me."
It was going to be the way things ended for Dean, one way or another. No matter how good he was, how hard he tried, the efforts he went to to purify himself or make the world a better place. He'd go right to Hell in the end.
But right now Hell was on Earth, almost just for him.
He pressed in again, and this time he nibbled at the edge of his jaw, bent in and bit the lobe of Dean's ear, nursing the bruised skin against the warm wetness of his tongue.
Lucifer growled softly, wetly at him, afterwards. "Are you going to make me hurt you?"
One thing was for certain, unfortunately it looks as though the devil will have to hurt Dean. He doesn't know when to stop and always goes a bit too far. He probably shouldn't have spit in his face but that slap had smarted pretty bad. Dean could still feel the burn on his skin. If only that mouth would stay off his skin, if only he could get away from him.
It doesn't take effort to choose a room. Lucifer knows the path through the bunker, picks out Castiel's former room, next to Dean's, and drags him right into it, dropping him on the floor and kicking the door shut behind him.
The next thing Dean got was a kick in the side.
"Do that again, and I'll come back when your brother's here."
He has bruises on his legs and hips from the dragging, his face is bruised, left eye already swelling slightly but he's at least somewhat sure that he isn't bleeding yet. At least on the outside. His cheek was cut inside his mouth, he could taste the blood though it didn't seem to be that bad...yet.
He gave a grunt and tried to curl in on himself when Lucifer dropped him on the floor inside of a room he hadn't really had a chance to look at yet. He heard the door shut but before he could even shit his body to get a glimpse of where he was a booted foot collided with his side pushing all air from his lungs in a harsh gasp. It took a moment or two for him to be able to get a breath in and the pain it brought with it made stars dance in his eyes. He was pretty sure a rib or two was at least cracked after that.
In spite of the pain in his body, his spirit was still intact and his resolve to endure was still strong. While he threat of harm to Sam would normally still his fight, Dean knew that with both of them it would be harder for the devil to win...especially with Cas on the inside.
"Go back to hell you fucktard." Dean hissed up at him from his position on the floor.
Lucifer had done what Sam did now. He wrapped his arm around Eliot's once the blow was struck, seized it tight at that awkward backwards angle and pulled hard enough to snap the bones in his forearm.
It was brutal, and quick, and Sam dropped the arm as quickly as he'd taken it, moving his other hand out to snatch Eliot's uninjured arm. This he twisted into the same position, and held tight, gripping him tightly enough to force his body into a slightly upright position. The pain, the angle, would force his ass to clench, increasing the friction and giving Sam room to piston upward. It was meant to hurt him more, to burn, and leave an ache that would still be there even when Hell healed the break.
There wasn't any need to speak his ultimatum, even if Eliot would have been able to hear him through the agony: Try anything else and I'll break this one.
He folded his arms, stepping around Dean carefully. He was curled in to protect himself, all the injury to his body making him ache, but it wasn't enough to make Dean lay off this whole heroic thing.
"You know, I think you'd be singing a different tune if I was fucking him in front of you. It doesn't matter that it's not really Castiel in here, more than enough of you would be jealous to make it worth it."
Lucifer crossed to the TV set, pulling the HDMI cable out the back of it and snapping it out of the Netflix receiver with an equally brisk pull. His purpose was revealed a moment later, when he pulled the end of it around Dean's neck, and looped it so that it pulled closed like a leash. A tug made it close tighter, then release as Lucifer released pressure.
"I think you know how this works. Come here, puppy."
The noose around his neck was a surprise though. He clawed frantically at it when the devil tugged as his air was cut off. His face turned red, his eyes bulged slightly and he made a gasping strangling sound. Once it was released he gasped in a massive lung full of air and cough violently which aggravated his side something fierce and pulled a pained whine from him. He didn't move though, his mind a bit more occupied at the moment with replacing the oxygen it was deprived of.
He kept his grip, though, as tight as a rock, bending in closer to hiss in his ear.
"You know, Dean, all it would really take to shake me out of here would be for Castiel to cast me out. He knows I'm here, all he needs to do is rescind his invitation. The mission is much more important than your pride, your chastity. Now when I say heel, you heel. Do you understand?"
Eliot knew it wouldn't be easy, that an attack had risks, but he thought he had at least a chance. But whatever damage he did to the demon seemed inconsequential, and Sam struck back so swiftly and ruthlessly that there was no doubt the fight was finished then and there.
Eliot didn't exactly scream when his arm was broken, snapped clean and jagged edges of bone poking through skin, but he certainly cried out from the shock of pain and tensed up against it. He didn't want to but he was squeezing tight around Sam, not even thinking of the demon as waves of white hot pain washed out and dominated all his senses. His world was slow to return, and he had lost thoroughly by the time he was aware of how Sam had taken advantage to take his remaining arm in an arm lock to force him back against Sam.
In his new position, Eliot had to arch back to keep his shoulder from dislocating. This put him right against Sam where he had to open his legs wider, as far as he could within his current restrictions, and try to hold himself up for the demon's fucking. It was hellish, humiliating, and tested his strength and endurance to maintain position to ride this out. Hopefully, it will finish up soon, but Eliot gritted his teeth and steadied his stance in preparation for the long haul anyway. He wouldn't put it past the demon to drag this out to get his point across.
Of course too, everyone knows Dean is far from chaste. The simple comment would normally draw a derisive snort but the firm grip on the back of his neck kept him in line for the moment.
He doesn't want to believe that Cas could stop this if he wanted too. He doesn't think it works like that...otherwise Sam should have been able to cast him out. So it led him to believe the devil was simply trying to get into his head and under his skin.
"No." Dean said when Lucifer told him to heel. He would try his best to not give in just yet. He knew Lucifer had yet to get started...and the longer he lasted the more opportunity Cas had to stop Lucifer.
He tightened his grip at the back of Dean's throat, and pushed him forward, forcing him along the ground on his hands and knees. Either he'd have to crawl, put his hands and feet in front of him, or else get dragged along helplessly.
Lucifer only stopped when they reached the bed, pushing Dean down across the edge of it. His hands dropped to Dean's shoulders, gripping him tight as he knelt across the backs of his calves, pressing up tight against his ass, sat up straight and high to look imperiously down at him.
"I could just torture you. I could dangle you by your feet from the Empire State building and leave Sam to come and rescue you. What I'm going to do, instead, is speak in this voice and kiss you with these lips. I'm going to put Castiel's hands on you, and Castiel's cock in you, just the way you've always wanted."
Eliot got the pain, and he got the discomfort of being forced to hold his position despite the agony, and because Sam had already come once, his second orgasm seemed to take forever. He held Eliot up through every moment, despite the pressure and pain it would apply to his good shoulder to do so, and he kept moving steadily until he spilled over with an anticlimatic grunt.
He shoved Eliot away from him briskly, fighting back his own exhaustion and wobbling back up to his feet, putting enough distance between them to drop his back against the wall beside the door. He'd have to gather Eliot up to take him back to their room, to the crate he'd promised him as a bed, but he'd give Eliot time to nurse his wounds while he recovered from his own orgasm.
Dean didn't want this for sure, he didn't want to have his first time with Cas to be with Lucifer driving...but the alternative of hanging upside down from the Empire State building sounded much worse. Also Dean could pretend with Cas. Unlike when his brother was involved because ew...he was in love or at least extreme like with Castiel. Even if it was Lucifer driving....he would be thinking of Cas...he would be with Cas who was still inside and he thinks he can handle that.
When the demon finally spilled, it was a flood of hot relief despite the humiliation of the event. It meant this part of the ordeal was over, that there could be a pause in the agony, a moment for him to lick his wounds. Eliot fell forward when shoved, the pain of impacting with the unforgiving ground expressed in a cut off cry and a low groan, but he stayed where he was. He could probably still fight and catch Sam by surprise, had fought through worse injuries in life, but not when there was no victory to be had. There was no escape, no greater mission, nobody who was counting on him to get up and keep fighting.
He closed his eyes, letting the futility of his situation wash over him for a second. He was condemned to an eternity in Hell, given to this demon to be a plaything until he broke and did as he was told. Eliot didn't know how long that would be, a month, a year, a decade, a century... He honestly doubted it would take that long, at least, not if he was to remain himself and still capable of doing what they wanted. But that war he will keep fighting, because there are people counting on him for that; he stopped with the hurting and killing people. He wasn't that man anymore.
For now.
But for this fight he could afford a reprieve, to succumb the pain and humiliation to save himself worse at the moment. So what if he was successful in striking back, so what if he broke Sam's neck. There was no escape from hell. No, the fight was to not surrender to the demon, and that Eliot could do laying with his eyes closed and not moving his broken arm.
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