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chineseinkTitle: Westward Seeking
Fandom: Lucifer original
Pairing: Lucifer/Azael
Rating: PG-13
Claimer: Mine. >F
Life on Earth. Christmas in Hell. Lucifer and Azael after leaving Heaven.
[Sequel to Searching Endlessly.]
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
th_nightengale.
Westward Seeking
bymeitachi
“Come back, Lucifer.”
The ebony black hair doesn’t stir. “I won’t,” replies Lucifer, refusing to look at the angel in his doorway.
“You are needed in Heaven.”
“I am needed here.” He stares resolutely out of the window. It is raining.
Gabriel lets out a sigh and leans against the doorframe. “He misses you,” he says softly.
Lucifer’s shoulder tense further before slowly easing. He doesn’t say that he misses Him too, though he does. But his reasons for staying will always surpass his reasons for going. “Azael is here.” I will not go without him is implicit in his unspoken words.
There is a long silence. Then Gabriel shifts and Lucifer can hear the way his wings move against the air. “He is still an exile in His eyes,” Gabriel says, unnecessarily, but there is enough in him that disagrees with the banishment to cause him to avoid looking at Lucifer, though the other is still staring out the window.
“I will not go,” Lucifer repeats.
And it is not a fact of life, because life is far too fleeting, but an unchangeable fact as immortal as Lucifer himself, that he will never leave Azael.
Gabriel cannot help but smile. It is a sad, bittersweet smile, but a smile nonetheless.
He doesn’t bother to say goodbye because Lucifer will not acknowledge him anyway.
There is a rustle of wings and robes and a sudden extinguishing of the unseen light indicative of a holy presence.
Alone, Lucifer continues to stand, arms crossed and wings folded, before the window, watching rain stream down the glass.
--
What did it used to be like, before they had left heaven? Before Azael had been exiled?
Azael had been the flirty type, a coy smile always fluttering about his mouth and his eyes alight with laughter and knowledge that he was wanted.
Lucifer had been the teasing type, always knowing what Azael wanted from him and always remaining aloof. His lazy, unconcerned smile had been the exact antithesis of the predatory, possessive reaction Azael had tried to elicit.
It drove the silver-haired angel to new heights of frustration—but never to his limit because, in the end, Lucifer did want him, and always demonstrated that, ending Azael’s flirtations with a need too desperate to disguise.
They’d always managed to find each other after losing themselves in the games they played.
--
“Christmas is tomorrow,” Azael observes, curled up on the couch. He watches Lucifer, who stands with a troubled expression by the window.
A hand touches the cold glass briefly. “Yes.”
“It’s too bad it hasn’t snowed,” says Azael, who has been spending a lot of time with mortals during his work at a nearby church. He has heard lots of wishes for a white Christmas recently.
Lucifer turns to look at him, eyes shadowed and a half smile on his face. “It doesn’t snow in hell.”
--
They are kissing, later, because Azael likes the tradition of mistletoe, even if it has nothing to do with the birth of Christ. He also likes the lights strung along houses and storefronts, decorating the dark night with glimmers of color. He has convinced Lucifer to hang a strand along their bedroom window and Lucifer likes to sit in bed and watch the wonder in Azael’s face as he looks at his lights.
Lucifer slips his hands through Azael’s hair and presses him further into the couch, their mouths still attached. He slides a leg over the slender body beneath him and straddles Azael, working his hand up Azael’s sweater, exploring.
He is pushed back momentarily as Azael gasps that he isn’t allowed to unwrap his Christmas present early.
He raises a brow at the impudent smile he is treated to and sits up. “Should I stop, then?” he asks, sliding his hand out of Azael’s sweater.
“Can you wait until tomorrow?” is the coy response.
Lucifer leans forward again, letting his hair trail across the expanse of skin bared by the rucked-up sweater. He presses his mouth close to Azael’s ear. “Can you?”
Golden eyes darken and then he is pulled down abruptly onto Azael, as a leg slides between his and arms twine around his neck. Then they are kissing again, heatedly, because they love the taste of each other and because the mistletoe is still there, urging them on.
--
It had been raining the first time Lucifer met Azael. Like today. It had been gray and chilly and wet.
Azael had been standing alone, eyes closed and face tilted toward the heavens, as rain streamed down his face. His long silver hair had dripped down his back and his white robes had clung to his slender frame, soaked.
It was Michael who had first pointed him out. “That’s Azael,” he’d said to a stunned Lucifer. He’d smiled. “God wants to Soul Bond the two of you.”
They had continued on their way and Lucifer had helped Michael attend to his business on Earth. Then they had returned to heaven, passing by the point where they had seen Azael earlier, and Lucifer had found himself bitterly disappointed not to have seen the angel a second time.
But he’d found Gabriel waiting for Michael with a familiar figure at his side. The hair had still been wet, though the robes had been changed.
“This is Lucifer,” Gabriel had introduced him and Azael had turned those golden eyes upon him. “He will be your Soul Mate.”
And Lucifer had wanted to touch that pale skin, so milky and smooth, but had settled for a smile instead.
--
“I fell in love with you the moment you first smiled at me,” Azael whispers to Lucifer as he lay wrapped securely in his arms.
Lucifer makes a soft sound of agreement and presses his face into Azael’s wealth of hair. The lights from the window—they’d moved to the bed—cast colored tints upon the natural silver.
“It’s too bad I don’t believe in love at first sight,” says Azael, tilting back his head to smile up at Lucifer.
“But you loved me anyway.”
“You’re too irresistible.”
Lucifer smirked and gently pushed Azael’s head back to rest on his chest. “I’m glad you’re willing to admit it.”
Azael breathes in deep and then, in a flush of seriousness, he clings to Lucifer and whispers, “I will always love you, shaibel.” He can’t say the rest: I don’t know where I would be without you; I don’t want to imagine it; never, ever, leave me again, please… But it is all understood.
“Through eternity,” Lucifer says and kisses the top of Azael’s head.
“Until time ends.”
“Until I die.”
Azael smiles. “Forever.”
--
“He will not come.”
“HE IS A FOOL.”
“Is he, my Lord?”
“YES. BUT A WISE FOOL.” A fond, almost regretful smile. “MY LIGHT BEARER…AND HIS SOUL MATE. I MATCHED THEM WELL.” A pause. Then, sadly, “TOO WELL.”
--
Their time on Earth, in Hell, has not been easy. But they have learned. Fayn has taught Lucifer how to cast glamour over his wings, rendering them invisible to the mortal eye. They have familiarized themselves with the way of humans and have eased themselves into a world so different than what they are used to.
Azael has learned how to manipulate humans.
Lucifer has learned how to manipulate angels.
But neither of them explores their new hobbies fully because they would rather spend time exploring each other. It is God in Heaven that the humans should pray to in thanks that their world has not been completely corrupted, though not because He has halted it, but because he has created two angels more interested in each other than anything else.
Had their efforts at reconstructing God’s creation been more focused, there is no telling where the world would be now.
Perhaps in a world where love is love, no matter what form it takes.
A world where forgiveness is the only response to any slight, great or small.
Because that’s what love is, thinks Lucifer. And this is why he will not return to heaven.
He belongs where Azael is.
--
“’Morning,” murmurs Azael as his eyes flutter open.
Lucifer is leaning over him. “I love you,” he says, as he always does, and bends down to kiss him.
Azael lets his eyes fall shut again and finds himself in the warmth of Lucifer’s kiss.
Then he cracks open an eye and peers out the window. “Lucifer,” he says, pulling back.
“Yes?” Lucifer purrs, trailing his now-free mouth down Azael’s neck. His hand, resting on Azael’s hip, tugs him closer across the bed.
Azael lifts a hand and combs his hair out of his eyes. “Lucifer,” he says again, still staring out the window. “It’s snowing.”
Lucifer stops and raises his head, twisting it to follow Azael’s gaze out the window. Flakes of powdery white are indeed swirling down from the blinding sky.
“How—“ begins Azael.
“Merry Christmas,” says Lucifer, smiling, before cutting him off with another kiss.
--
“May all your wishes come true.” Gabriel cups his chin in his hands and smiles down at his friends.
An arm slides around his shoulders. “You interfere too much for your own good.”
Gabriel grins at Michael. “But it turned out okay.” He looks Earthward again. “There is hope,” he says softly.
Michael leans into him. “There is hope,” he agrees.
--
MERRY CHRISTMAS, MY CHILDREN.
--
Posted: 12.25.2004
Fandom: Lucifer original
Pairing: Lucifer/Azael
Rating: PG-13
Claimer: Mine. >F
Life on Earth. Christmas in Hell. Lucifer and Azael after leaving Heaven.
[Sequel to Searching Endlessly.]
For
th_nightengale.Westward Seeking
by
meitachi“Come back, Lucifer.”
The ebony black hair doesn’t stir. “I won’t,” replies Lucifer, refusing to look at the angel in his doorway.
“You are needed in Heaven.”
“I am needed here.” He stares resolutely out of the window. It is raining.
Gabriel lets out a sigh and leans against the doorframe. “He misses you,” he says softly.
Lucifer’s shoulder tense further before slowly easing. He doesn’t say that he misses Him too, though he does. But his reasons for staying will always surpass his reasons for going. “Azael is here.” I will not go without him is implicit in his unspoken words.
There is a long silence. Then Gabriel shifts and Lucifer can hear the way his wings move against the air. “He is still an exile in His eyes,” Gabriel says, unnecessarily, but there is enough in him that disagrees with the banishment to cause him to avoid looking at Lucifer, though the other is still staring out the window.
“I will not go,” Lucifer repeats.
And it is not a fact of life, because life is far too fleeting, but an unchangeable fact as immortal as Lucifer himself, that he will never leave Azael.
Gabriel cannot help but smile. It is a sad, bittersweet smile, but a smile nonetheless.
He doesn’t bother to say goodbye because Lucifer will not acknowledge him anyway.
There is a rustle of wings and robes and a sudden extinguishing of the unseen light indicative of a holy presence.
Alone, Lucifer continues to stand, arms crossed and wings folded, before the window, watching rain stream down the glass.
--
What did it used to be like, before they had left heaven? Before Azael had been exiled?
Azael had been the flirty type, a coy smile always fluttering about his mouth and his eyes alight with laughter and knowledge that he was wanted.
Lucifer had been the teasing type, always knowing what Azael wanted from him and always remaining aloof. His lazy, unconcerned smile had been the exact antithesis of the predatory, possessive reaction Azael had tried to elicit.
It drove the silver-haired angel to new heights of frustration—but never to his limit because, in the end, Lucifer did want him, and always demonstrated that, ending Azael’s flirtations with a need too desperate to disguise.
They’d always managed to find each other after losing themselves in the games they played.
--
“Christmas is tomorrow,” Azael observes, curled up on the couch. He watches Lucifer, who stands with a troubled expression by the window.
A hand touches the cold glass briefly. “Yes.”
“It’s too bad it hasn’t snowed,” says Azael, who has been spending a lot of time with mortals during his work at a nearby church. He has heard lots of wishes for a white Christmas recently.
Lucifer turns to look at him, eyes shadowed and a half smile on his face. “It doesn’t snow in hell.”
--
They are kissing, later, because Azael likes the tradition of mistletoe, even if it has nothing to do with the birth of Christ. He also likes the lights strung along houses and storefronts, decorating the dark night with glimmers of color. He has convinced Lucifer to hang a strand along their bedroom window and Lucifer likes to sit in bed and watch the wonder in Azael’s face as he looks at his lights.
Lucifer slips his hands through Azael’s hair and presses him further into the couch, their mouths still attached. He slides a leg over the slender body beneath him and straddles Azael, working his hand up Azael’s sweater, exploring.
He is pushed back momentarily as Azael gasps that he isn’t allowed to unwrap his Christmas present early.
He raises a brow at the impudent smile he is treated to and sits up. “Should I stop, then?” he asks, sliding his hand out of Azael’s sweater.
“Can you wait until tomorrow?” is the coy response.
Lucifer leans forward again, letting his hair trail across the expanse of skin bared by the rucked-up sweater. He presses his mouth close to Azael’s ear. “Can you?”
Golden eyes darken and then he is pulled down abruptly onto Azael, as a leg slides between his and arms twine around his neck. Then they are kissing again, heatedly, because they love the taste of each other and because the mistletoe is still there, urging them on.
--
It had been raining the first time Lucifer met Azael. Like today. It had been gray and chilly and wet.
Azael had been standing alone, eyes closed and face tilted toward the heavens, as rain streamed down his face. His long silver hair had dripped down his back and his white robes had clung to his slender frame, soaked.
It was Michael who had first pointed him out. “That’s Azael,” he’d said to a stunned Lucifer. He’d smiled. “God wants to Soul Bond the two of you.”
They had continued on their way and Lucifer had helped Michael attend to his business on Earth. Then they had returned to heaven, passing by the point where they had seen Azael earlier, and Lucifer had found himself bitterly disappointed not to have seen the angel a second time.
But he’d found Gabriel waiting for Michael with a familiar figure at his side. The hair had still been wet, though the robes had been changed.
“This is Lucifer,” Gabriel had introduced him and Azael had turned those golden eyes upon him. “He will be your Soul Mate.”
And Lucifer had wanted to touch that pale skin, so milky and smooth, but had settled for a smile instead.
--
“I fell in love with you the moment you first smiled at me,” Azael whispers to Lucifer as he lay wrapped securely in his arms.
Lucifer makes a soft sound of agreement and presses his face into Azael’s wealth of hair. The lights from the window—they’d moved to the bed—cast colored tints upon the natural silver.
“It’s too bad I don’t believe in love at first sight,” says Azael, tilting back his head to smile up at Lucifer.
“But you loved me anyway.”
“You’re too irresistible.”
Lucifer smirked and gently pushed Azael’s head back to rest on his chest. “I’m glad you’re willing to admit it.”
Azael breathes in deep and then, in a flush of seriousness, he clings to Lucifer and whispers, “I will always love you, shaibel.” He can’t say the rest: I don’t know where I would be without you; I don’t want to imagine it; never, ever, leave me again, please… But it is all understood.
“Through eternity,” Lucifer says and kisses the top of Azael’s head.
“Until time ends.”
“Until I die.”
Azael smiles. “Forever.”
--
“He will not come.”
“HE IS A FOOL.”
“Is he, my Lord?”
“YES. BUT A WISE FOOL.” A fond, almost regretful smile. “MY LIGHT BEARER…AND HIS SOUL MATE. I MATCHED THEM WELL.” A pause. Then, sadly, “TOO WELL.”
--
Their time on Earth, in Hell, has not been easy. But they have learned. Fayn has taught Lucifer how to cast glamour over his wings, rendering them invisible to the mortal eye. They have familiarized themselves with the way of humans and have eased themselves into a world so different than what they are used to.
Azael has learned how to manipulate humans.
Lucifer has learned how to manipulate angels.
But neither of them explores their new hobbies fully because they would rather spend time exploring each other. It is God in Heaven that the humans should pray to in thanks that their world has not been completely corrupted, though not because He has halted it, but because he has created two angels more interested in each other than anything else.
Had their efforts at reconstructing God’s creation been more focused, there is no telling where the world would be now.
Perhaps in a world where love is love, no matter what form it takes.
A world where forgiveness is the only response to any slight, great or small.
Because that’s what love is, thinks Lucifer. And this is why he will not return to heaven.
He belongs where Azael is.
--
“’Morning,” murmurs Azael as his eyes flutter open.
Lucifer is leaning over him. “I love you,” he says, as he always does, and bends down to kiss him.
Azael lets his eyes fall shut again and finds himself in the warmth of Lucifer’s kiss.
Then he cracks open an eye and peers out the window. “Lucifer,” he says, pulling back.
“Yes?” Lucifer purrs, trailing his now-free mouth down Azael’s neck. His hand, resting on Azael’s hip, tugs him closer across the bed.
Azael lifts a hand and combs his hair out of his eyes. “Lucifer,” he says again, still staring out the window. “It’s snowing.”
Lucifer stops and raises his head, twisting it to follow Azael’s gaze out the window. Flakes of powdery white are indeed swirling down from the blinding sky.
“How—“ begins Azael.
“Merry Christmas,” says Lucifer, smiling, before cutting him off with another kiss.
--
“May all your wishes come true.” Gabriel cups his chin in his hands and smiles down at his friends.
An arm slides around his shoulders. “You interfere too much for your own good.”
Gabriel grins at Michael. “But it turned out okay.” He looks Earthward again. “There is hope,” he says softly.
Michael leans into him. “There is hope,” he agrees.
--
MERRY CHRISTMAS, MY CHILDREN.
--
Posted: 12.25.2004
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