[Francis isn't shy, not even on good days. Not particularly good at talking about emotions, about how he feels for people. It's those things that make him feel out of control and vulnerable that he struggles with. But that's different.]
[Francis is tucked away into an appropriately quiet corner, a little bit dimly lit, and two cocktails on the table in front of him while he waits. Skin-tight leather pants and a lacey crop top and someone might think he was waiting for a date.]
[When Lucifer appears -- and it really is quite in the blink of an eye, Francis may notice he's not in his usual tailored suits. No, he's in the leather jacket he received from him as a gift, a plain t-shirt underneath and a pair of tight, black jeans to complete the look.
He slides in next to the younger man with a soft smile on his lips.]
[It's not quite surprising when Lucifer appears out of thin air, but it does put a smile on his lips, his expression curving into something warmer. There's a glint to his blues as his eyes look over Lucifer, slow and with shameless interest.
And oh- he certainly recognizes the jacket he's wearing and pink lips curve into almost a sort of grin.]
Oh, you think so? [That way that he brightens under the compliment, a low murmur that plays on his mouth as he slides one of the glasses over to Lucifer.]
And so do you. Though I knew you'd look good in leather. Even if I do like the suits.
[Oh does he. But the change is charming, suggests something a little less proper, and that's always been appealing to the blonde.]
[Francis curls into Lucifer's side like it's a thoughtless reflex, how he responds to contact, when Lucifer's arm curls around his slim shoulders. A soft murmur of breath at the feel of it, tactile warmth of proximity. He takes a sip of his drink, looking up at him at the question. And sure, he could try and circle around the truth, he just didn't get the point to it.]
I want you. You're.. intriguing.
[He's attractive in a way that's different from everyone else, almost uncomfortable, hard to look at for too long, but oh how he wants to be touched. His lips curve into a smile, playful and a little teasing.]
So I suppose my plans depend on what you're up for.
[This was dangerous territory probably, but that was exactly what drew him to people. And he likes being in over his head, especially on nights like tonight.]
[He could have been more dramatic or overtly sexual about it, but simple was the most honest, really. Not angling for anything aside from the words on his tongue. And he likes the reaction he gets, leans in close with a sigh of breath and there's a thrill to the words.
Francis has been discovering that he rather likes depravity after all. And pleasure? It's always been one of the few balms he's known.]
Well, under the right circumstances. [There's a touch of humor to it. It's absolutely honest, but there's a curl of his lips that's wicked and playful, a tease that puts a golden glimmer in his eyes for a moment.]
But in private seems like a better place to start.
[Francis finishes his drink, leaving the glass on the table as he smiles at Lucifer. He's lovely, and Francis is- well. It's a rough night. He wants the distraction, wants the indulgence- sin. Lucifer seems like someone he could lose himself in for a while. Where he doesn't have to worry about being a mess.
And that's a comfort. So he slides to his feet with a smile, and he takes his hand like it's exactly what he's looking for. Which it is, honestly. He needs it, or he might have flirted more, been less about just getting to this.]
Now that sounds like a promise.
[His voice is a purr, all warmth and interest and want.]
[Francis is pretty and young, eager. The exact type that Lucifer would have wanted to break down in his far more cruel days. There's an itch to break him in other ways though, to have him screaming and writhing in pleasure beneath him until he's wrecked entirely.
And then maybe he'd push him just a bit further, see just far he can take it before exhaustion wins out.
The thoughts linger in his head as he meets that smile and draws Francis in close, guiding him out and towards the nearest room he knows to be empty.]
Of course it is, darling... You deserve the best treatment as far as I'm concerned.
[Honestly, Francis is a mess and the idea of letting Lucifer hurt him has crossed his mind more than a few times. But, well- pain isn't always a punishment and pleasure isn't always a reward, especially for someone like him. But he's interested, curious to see how they fit together.
He draws Francis in close, and the slight man follows easy, that eagerness obvious in how his body curls in against him, fingers that slide just under his jacket. He's not shy, not here. And, well. Lucifer's been so charming to him so far, so almost sweet that he can't help himself, especially not tonight, not right now.]
Now that's flattery. But I can't say I mind.
[It's all easy and provocative as he lets Lucifer pull him towards an empty room, his skin already a little flushed. He wants to be touched, to try and bury the way he aches for a while.]
[He smiles at the brush of bold fingers under his jacket, almost relieved once they're behind closed doors. He hardly has qualms about playing in public, but he'd rather give Francis the privacy right now.
He turns to face him properly, bringing up a hand to cup his face carefully and draw him in to a proper kiss. It's almost sweet, gentle in a way, just to see how he responds.]
I could be more flattering... but I would rather not waste time when I could be appreciating every inch of that lovely body of yours. Although you should tell me now, darling, if there's anything you won't do.
[Honestly there's something about Lucifer that hits his buttons, just being around him gets him a little flustered. But like this? It's a good thing, makes his skin flush and those blue eyes glitter. Maybe sometime later they can try in public if things calm down and he manages to talk him into this a second time. Fran does like the thrill. But well- he likes the attention too.
So when Lucifer kisses him, he leans into it with a low hum of fluttered eyelashes, and Francis is sensual and eager- all lips and tongue and ending with a slight nip of teeth.
At that implied question, he shakes his head slowly. Which isn't literally true, since he's sure there are lines Lucifer can push him to that he hasn't even considered-- but he doesn't think that's really what he means.]
Just, don't mark me up too badly. [It's a tease, coy more than anything. But also, well. He's not actually trying to hurt Dodger, he just needs his own distraction.] I mean- I like being hurt pretty rough, honestly. But I also like the pleasure, too. Unless you were thinking of something specific?
Nothing specific at the moment, darling... I would rather see where tonight leads us.
[Though part of him almost wishes to leave a few marks behind -- Francis seems like he has some pretty skin for it after all. Later though. That can be later. For now, fingers busy themselves tugging at the younger man's clothes as he leans in for another slow kiss.
It's rather easy to get lost in it for the moment -- focus on how their lips meet, how nicely Francis responds.]
Though I have no intention of letting you go for the night.
Well, I'm all for exploring and seeing what happens.
[Honestly, Francis actually likes marks, the way they linger on his skin, being able to touch them like a sensory echo. But, well. It was Dodger's birthday and they weren't exclusive or anything, but he tried to not push lines too far. Even if Dodger had pushed him out of the suite for the night.
But for the moment, all he really cares about is the way Lucifer's fingers tug against his clothes, starting to expose more skin, and the way their mouths press together. It's easy to melt into the contact, the warmth of that attention, hands trailing against the man, and he's a little bit breathless when they part, bright blue eyes as he looks up at him.]
Mm, gives us time that way. And I'm eager to see what you do with it.
[He nudges at Francis, guiding him towards the bed in the room as a slow smile tugs at his lips. He likes how eager he is already, how breathless and responsive. He'll rather enjoy tonight, he thinks.]
I'm rather interested in seeing how the night goes, myself.
[He pauses to shrug out of his jacket, dropping it somewhere on the end of the bed.]
[Lucifer guides him toward the bed, and Francis follows easy. There's something about the way that Lucifer offers his interest that's almost intoxicating, makes him flush a little bit hotter as he watches how he moves.
He likes the direction, and that way that his voice is more of a command when he tells him to get on the bed hits something, pulls him in deeper, a soft catch of breath against pink lips.]
Yes, Sir.
[That answer is almost reflexive, and he does as he's told almost without thinking- slipping off his shoes and climbing up on the bed. Sir is a bit too similar, echoes a bit too dearly, but Francis is still fairly new to these things; doesn't realize it until it's on the air.
He kneels by the foot of it, hands clasping behind him as he looks up at him. The collar isn't just for show, but usually Dodger is the only one that can get those hooks into him. But Lucifer's been captivating since the first time Francis met him face to face.]
[Lucifer watches with a sort of fascination as Francis sinks so obediently on the bed, offers himself freely. He didn't come in with any sort of expectations -- he rarely ever did where sex was involved. Spontaneity was so much more fun.
But he can't say hes disappointed at all.
He takes a step closer to brush his fingers over his cheek softly, dipping down until he can take his chin loosely and tip his head up.]
[His breath catches as Lucifer steps in close, face tilting into the way that his fingers drag against his cheek. He takes his chin, and there's the easy way that he shifts to let Lucifer move him how he likes, a flutter of long eyelashes as he looks up at him like he's not sure he should look away.
And he nods before he quite finds the words, easy agreement that flushes his skin a little. The truth is a bit less pretty, but there's something about Lucifer that makes him less self-conscious. The fact that the way he asks the question is like silk velvet, a low rumble in his throat- that doesn't hurt.]
--Yeah. I like being good. And very bad, once in a while.
[Dodger's been training him out of that tendency toward if you want me, but impulsive as he could be, he also was used to putting peoples' desires above his own. He liked it, honestly. Before he vanished, Mitsuhide had once said Francis went looking for people to ruin him, and he hadn't been wrong, really.]
[There's a playful chuckle that passes him. Humans that are so quick to submit to someone else, ones that still can't quite resist the urge to misbehave... either way is rather appealing.
For now though, he releases him as he takes a step back.]
Undress yourself for me. I'll let you know what to do after.
[Francis shivers a little at the words, the way that he laughs softly. He likes the approval, and it warms the way that he smiles up at him. That sense of being just right appealing in a way he couldn't have put words to.
But it leaves him with a vague sense that he might be a little in over his head. It just happens that that's exactly where he wants to be-- Francis wants to drown a little bit.
Lucifer releases him and there's a shaky exhale on his lips as he nods, like he'd forgotten to breathe for a moment. And he does as he's told with a soft murmur of understanding.
It's not quite a striptease, but it's absolutely a show, putting his body on display. His top comes off slow and easy and he lets it drip off his fingertips to fall to the bed. He has to wriggle a little to get his pants off, leaving him just in a skimpy pair of black velvet underthings, already half-hard against the fabric.
His skin is far from perfect when you take away the clothes, but Francis isn't self-conscious about it. Burns like fingerprints over his hips and upper thighs, scattered low on his stomach. Newer ones layered over the older ones that are almost gone. Pink lines climb up the insides of his upper thighs, the lingering remains of cuts too even and copious to be anything but intentional.
His skin soft and pale so even the nearly-faded bruises still blossom prettily. He drags the panties off down his legs- the collar the only thing that he leaves on. Then he shifts back onto his knees with an arch of his back and a slow roll of his shoulders.
Blue eyes look up to Lucifer, a little flushed over his cheeks and the top of his chest. There's something about the way he watches him. Something about the way the moment feels.]
Better?
[It's mostly rhetorical, mostly teasing, but also- well, if Lucifer wants him quiet, he'd have to gag him. Or tell him to.]
[Lucifer pays attention to every inch of skin that's displayed, lingers on every piece of fabric that slides slowly off a waiting, eager body. Mortals can be downright breathtaking -- he knows now how so many Nephilim were made once upon a time.
More than that, he enjoys Francis, the way he's eager and open. It's so easily read. If he minds the burns or the scars, Lucifer doesn't seem to show it. Everyone down here bears the marks of their sins in one way or another after all.]
Much.
[There's a teasing grin as he goes to peel off the remainder of his own clothes, tossing them carelessly aside. Beneath the fabric is unmarked, pale skin that has that unnatural glow about it, the same as the rest of him. He's already half-hard, and he doesn't seem to hold any shame about it.]
Lie back on the bed and spread your legs for me, darling. I want you to do as I say... You're such a lovely display already, I'd like to continue to watch.
[Francis can't help smiling at that approval, and then his eyes are drawn almost helplessly, watching as Lucifer strips out of the last of his clothes. And oh, he's gorgeous, and he glows. He's already half-hard and Francis looks, shameless in how he lets his gaze slide over his skin.]
You're like a star.
[The words are a little bit thoughtless, fall from his lips with Francis hardly thinking about them, because it's so unavoidably true. His voice is sweet and a little bit awed, almost like worship. He was a little bit blind to a lot of the trappings of religion, the associations, but some of them were obvious enough when held before him.
And he does as he's told without hesitation, laying back on the bed, his legs spread wide, willing to put himself on display for Lucifer's enjoyment. He likes doing as he's told- from certain people, at least, and the Lord of Hell is more or less at the top of that list, although where the differences between Lucifer and Dodger are in that regard are murky and complicated.]
You really think I'm lovely?
[Francis is not particularly used to praise, and so he's helplessly greedy for it, eats up every word, every whisper. He doesn't even bother trying to pretend otherwise, a slight arch to his back, all spread out on the sheets, like a particularly pornographic pinup.]
[The compliment earns a fond laughter as Lucifer wonders if Francis even understands the implications of that compliment. Though it hardly stops him from preening under the praise as he slips up on to the bed to kneel between parted legs.]
Absolutely lovely.
[His hands go to slide up hips, slow and steady, exploring the expanse of skin exposed to him approvingly.]
[Francis smiles, watching how he preens under the compliment. He doesn't understand the context, just that Lucifer shines like something plucked still-glowing from the sky.
He shivers with a low murmur of heated breath as Lucifer joins him on the bed, moving in between his legs, and his voice affirms that earlier compliment. Hands touching against bared skin, and the blonde leans into the touch easily as his hands slide up over the exposed skin, a hot catch of his breath at the feel of it.
He's caught, but he doesn't mind at all, the way he just gives himself into Lucifer's hands, a low purr of pleasure that hums on his lips.]
I don't think I'd even mind. As long as that means touching, too.
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Sounds nice. I'm not going anywhere; I'm sure you'll find me.
[Francis is tucked away into an appropriately quiet corner, a little bit dimly lit, and two cocktails on the table in front of him while he waits. Skin-tight leather pants and a lacey crop top and someone might think he was waiting for a date.]
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He slides in next to the younger man with a soft smile on his lips.]
Someone looks rather nice tonight...
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And oh- he certainly recognizes the jacket he's wearing and pink lips curve into almost a sort of grin.]
Oh, you think so? [That way that he brightens under the compliment, a low murmur that plays on his mouth as he slides one of the glasses over to Lucifer.]
And so do you. Though I knew you'd look good in leather. Even if I do like the suits.
[Oh does he. But the change is charming, suggests something a little less proper, and that's always been appealing to the blonde.]
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[There's a soft laugh as he takes the glass offered to him. His other arm snakes around Francis as he settles in.]
So, what were your plans for the evening?
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I want you. You're.. intriguing.
[He's attractive in a way that's different from everyone else, almost uncomfortable, hard to look at for too long, but oh how he wants to be touched. His lips curve into a smile, playful and a little teasing.]
So I suppose my plans depend on what you're up for.
[This was dangerous territory probably, but that was exactly what drew him to people. And he likes being in over his head, especially on nights like tonight.]
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[His lips curl into a smile at those honest words. He shifts a bit closer, tilting his head just a bit closer.]
There's hardly anything I'm not up for, darling.
[Slipping into depravity and pleasures is something he's rather known for.]
Although perhaps we should move somewhere private... unless you enjoy putting on a show.
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Francis has been discovering that he rather likes depravity after all. And pleasure? It's always been one of the few balms he's known.]
Well, under the right circumstances. [There's a touch of humor to it. It's absolutely honest, but there's a curl of his lips that's wicked and playful, a tease that puts a golden glimmer in his eyes for a moment.]
But in private seems like a better place to start.
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Follow me then, darling. I'll do my best to make sure tonight is one you won't forget.
[He moves to slide back to his feet, holding out his hand for the other to take.]
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And that's a comfort. So he slides to his feet with a smile, and he takes his hand like it's exactly what he's looking for. Which it is, honestly. He needs it, or he might have flirted more, been less about just getting to this.]
Now that sounds like a promise.
[His voice is a purr, all warmth and interest and want.]
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And then maybe he'd push him just a bit further, see just far he can take it before exhaustion wins out.
The thoughts linger in his head as he meets that smile and draws Francis in close, guiding him out and towards the nearest room he knows to be empty.]
Of course it is, darling... You deserve the best treatment as far as I'm concerned.
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He draws Francis in close, and the slight man follows easy, that eagerness obvious in how his body curls in against him, fingers that slide just under his jacket. He's not shy, not here. And, well. Lucifer's been so charming to him so far, so almost sweet that he can't help himself, especially not tonight, not right now.]
Now that's flattery. But I can't say I mind.
[It's all easy and provocative as he lets Lucifer pull him towards an empty room, his skin already a little flushed. He wants to be touched, to try and bury the way he aches for a while.]
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He turns to face him properly, bringing up a hand to cup his face carefully and draw him in to a proper kiss. It's almost sweet, gentle in a way, just to see how he responds.]
I could be more flattering... but I would rather not waste time when I could be appreciating every inch of that lovely body of yours. Although you should tell me now, darling, if there's anything you won't do.
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So when Lucifer kisses him, he leans into it with a low hum of fluttered eyelashes, and Francis is sensual and eager- all lips and tongue and ending with a slight nip of teeth.
At that implied question, he shakes his head slowly. Which isn't literally true, since he's sure there are lines Lucifer can push him to that he hasn't even considered-- but he doesn't think that's really what he means.]
Just, don't mark me up too badly. [It's a tease, coy more than anything. But also, well. He's not actually trying to hurt Dodger, he just needs his own distraction.] I mean- I like being hurt pretty rough, honestly. But I also like the pleasure, too. Unless you were thinking of something specific?
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[Though part of him almost wishes to leave a few marks behind -- Francis seems like he has some pretty skin for it after all. Later though. That can be later. For now, fingers busy themselves tugging at the younger man's clothes as he leans in for another slow kiss.
It's rather easy to get lost in it for the moment -- focus on how their lips meet, how nicely Francis responds.]
Though I have no intention of letting you go for the night.
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[Honestly, Francis actually likes marks, the way they linger on his skin, being able to touch them like a sensory echo. But, well. It was Dodger's birthday and they weren't exclusive or anything, but he tried to not push lines too far. Even if Dodger had pushed him out of the suite for the night.
But for the moment, all he really cares about is the way Lucifer's fingers tug against his clothes, starting to expose more skin, and the way their mouths press together. It's easy to melt into the contact, the warmth of that attention, hands trailing against the man, and he's a little bit breathless when they part, bright blue eyes as he looks up at him.]
Mm, gives us time that way. And I'm eager to see what you do with it.
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I'm rather interested in seeing how the night goes, myself.
[He pauses to shrug out of his jacket, dropping it somewhere on the end of the bed.]
On the bed, Francis.
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He likes the direction, and that way that his voice is more of a command when he tells him to get on the bed hits something, pulls him in deeper, a soft catch of breath against pink lips.]
Yes, Sir.
[That answer is almost reflexive, and he does as he's told almost without thinking- slipping off his shoes and climbing up on the bed. Sir is a bit too similar, echoes a bit too dearly, but Francis is still fairly new to these things; doesn't realize it until it's on the air.
He kneels by the foot of it, hands clasping behind him as he looks up at him. The collar isn't just for show, but usually Dodger is the only one that can get those hooks into him. But Lucifer's been captivating since the first time Francis met him face to face.]
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But he can't say hes disappointed at all.
He takes a step closer to brush his fingers over his cheek softly, dipping down until he can take his chin loosely and tip his head up.]
Is this how you want it then, Francis?
[He practically purrs the words.]
Would you like me to direct you?
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And he nods before he quite finds the words, easy agreement that flushes his skin a little. The truth is a bit less pretty, but there's something about Lucifer that makes him less self-conscious. The fact that the way he asks the question is like silk velvet, a low rumble in his throat- that doesn't hurt.]
--Yeah. I like being good. And very bad, once in a while.
[Dodger's been training him out of that tendency toward if you want me, but impulsive as he could be, he also was used to putting peoples' desires above his own. He liked it, honestly. Before he vanished, Mitsuhide had once said Francis went looking for people to ruin him, and he hadn't been wrong, really.]
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[There's a playful chuckle that passes him. Humans that are so quick to submit to someone else, ones that still can't quite resist the urge to misbehave... either way is rather appealing.
For now though, he releases him as he takes a step back.]
Undress yourself for me. I'll let you know what to do after.
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But it leaves him with a vague sense that he might be a little in over his head. It just happens that that's exactly where he wants to be-- Francis wants to drown a little bit.
Lucifer releases him and there's a shaky exhale on his lips as he nods, like he'd forgotten to breathe for a moment. And he does as he's told with a soft murmur of understanding.
It's not quite a striptease, but it's absolutely a show, putting his body on display. His top comes off slow and easy and he lets it drip off his fingertips to fall to the bed. He has to wriggle a little to get his pants off, leaving him just in a skimpy pair of black velvet underthings, already half-hard against the fabric.
His skin is far from perfect when you take away the clothes, but Francis isn't self-conscious about it. Burns like fingerprints over his hips and upper thighs, scattered low on his stomach. Newer ones layered over the older ones that are almost gone. Pink lines climb up the insides of his upper thighs, the lingering remains of cuts too even and copious to be anything but intentional.
His skin soft and pale so even the nearly-faded bruises still blossom prettily. He drags the panties off down his legs- the collar the only thing that he leaves on. Then he shifts back onto his knees with an arch of his back and a slow roll of his shoulders.
Blue eyes look up to Lucifer, a little flushed over his cheeks and the top of his chest. There's something about the way he watches him. Something about the way the moment feels.]
Better?
[It's mostly rhetorical, mostly teasing, but also- well, if Lucifer wants him quiet, he'd have to gag him. Or tell him to.]
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More than that, he enjoys Francis, the way he's eager and open. It's so easily read. If he minds the burns or the scars, Lucifer doesn't seem to show it. Everyone down here bears the marks of their sins in one way or another after all.]
Much.
[There's a teasing grin as he goes to peel off the remainder of his own clothes, tossing them carelessly aside. Beneath the fabric is unmarked, pale skin that has that unnatural glow about it, the same as the rest of him. He's already half-hard, and he doesn't seem to hold any shame about it.]
Lie back on the bed and spread your legs for me, darling. I want you to do as I say... You're such a lovely display already, I'd like to continue to watch.
For now, at least.
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You're like a star.
[The words are a little bit thoughtless, fall from his lips with Francis hardly thinking about them, because it's so unavoidably true. His voice is sweet and a little bit awed, almost like worship. He was a little bit blind to a lot of the trappings of religion, the associations, but some of them were obvious enough when held before him.
And he does as he's told without hesitation, laying back on the bed, his legs spread wide, willing to put himself on display for Lucifer's enjoyment. He likes doing as he's told- from certain people, at least, and the Lord of Hell is more or less at the top of that list, although where the differences between Lucifer and Dodger are in that regard are murky and complicated.]
You really think I'm lovely?
[Francis is not particularly used to praise, and so he's helplessly greedy for it, eats up every word, every whisper. He doesn't even bother trying to pretend otherwise, a slight arch to his back, all spread out on the sheets, like a particularly pornographic pinup.]
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Absolutely lovely.
[His hands go to slide up hips, slow and steady, exploring the expanse of skin exposed to him approvingly.]
I could watch you all night, I think.
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He shivers with a low murmur of heated breath as Lucifer joins him on the bed, moving in between his legs, and his voice affirms that earlier compliment. Hands touching against bared skin, and the blonde leans into the touch easily as his hands slide up over the exposed skin, a hot catch of his breath at the feel of it.
He's caught, but he doesn't mind at all, the way he just gives himself into Lucifer's hands, a low purr of pleasure that hums on his lips.]
I don't think I'd even mind. As long as that means touching, too.
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