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You are not exactly a paragon of good ideas. This is well known to you and to others. And all actions have consequences. Consequences that aren’t always what you intended.
Okay, so maybe you shouldn’t have dumped a bucket of those polymer balls that grow in water on Lucifer’s head from the staircase above. Or at least you should have done it at the House, rather than in the middle of the R.A.D. halls. The primary advantage here, though, is that there’s a lot more places to run and hide.
Speaking of running, you’re doing exactly that. Lucifer tripped on some of the water beads on his way to the stairs, buying you an extra few seconds. The impact sounded rough, but you know he’s inhumanly sturdy and has had a lot worse, so you don’t feel too bad. Now then, which way? Left. Then right. Another l-
The second you round the corner you make hard contact with another person, slamming into their chest like a meteor striking the ground. The person crashes to the ground and you, carried by your momentum, end up right on top of them.
“Ouch,” a voice says from under you. “I thought I heard running.”
“Shit, sorry!” You push yourself up onto your hands, intending to apologize and scramble off to continue your action movie chase scene, but when you look at who you knocked over you’re greeted by a familiar face.
“(_),” Solomon says breezily, as if you didn’t just rugby tackle him. “Fancy meeting you here. In a hurry?”
“Uh, you could say that,” you say, pushing yourself up onto your knees, listening for Lucifer.
He chuckles, then makes a pained face. “I think you bruised a rib.”
“Sorry,” you say again, checking behind you. Lucifer’s gotta be closing in.
Solomon rolls his eyes, patting your knee and looking up at you. “This is an interesting position we’ve found ourselves in, don’t you think?”
You look down at him with a raised eyebrow, and he returns it. His eyebrow is considerably more salacious, and when you look down you find that you’re basically doing that silly kabedon thing to him and he’s decided to rest his hands on your thighs. Yeah, that is an interesting position. If it weren’t for Luci’s pursuit of you, this would be a great time to tease Sol-
“(_)!” Lucifer shouts from somewhere closer than you’d like. Shit.
“He sounds angry,” Solomon says cheerfully, not bothering to keep his voice low. “What did you do this time?”
“No time, gotta hide!” You hiss, trying to climb off of him.
He laughs, wrapping his arms around you. “Not so fast. You didn’t answer my question.” You level your hardest glare at him, hoping the threat of patented (_) revenge shenanigans will cow him. “Oooh, scary,” he grins. You’re losing your touch.
“You’re lucky I like you so damn much,” you grumble, “I dumped Orbeez on him.”
Letting out a short bark of laughter, Solomon finally lets you go. “Not a bad one. A little simple, but reliable,” he says as you get up, pushing himself to his feet as well.
“(_)!” Lucifer calls out again.
“Shit!” You groan, looking for somewhere to run to. This hallway is long and doesn’t have many doors, and most of them are probably classrooms with nowhere to hide.
Solomon smirks, taking your hand. “I’ll hide you, come on,” he says, quickly tugging you down the hallway.
He finds a clear spot of wall, and quickly traces his finger over it in a square, muttering some sort of spell. Before your very eyes, a wooden trapdoor appears and he opens it and ushers you in. It takes a bit of finagling, but you manage to climb into the space with his help and he follows you in. He closes the door quickly, then mutters another spell and the light from the edges of the trapdoor vanishes as it, presumably, ceases to exist. The space is pitch black, but another spell summons a sparkling golden candle flame in Solomon’s palm.
“There. He shouldn’t be able to find us here. I doubt he’ll be looking for a pocket passage spell,” he says, holding out the flame so you can see better.
It’s, again, pitch black, the only thing you can see is what the light from the candle bounces off of directly, which is just Solomon and yourself. There don’t seem to be any visible walls, but when you go to step back you find yourself running into something solid. Feeling around behind you, it seems like you’re in some sort of cylindrical space, barely big enough for the two of you to fit in. And by that I mean he’s pretty much pressed up against you, chest to chest and face to face.
“Not a lot of room,” you say, leaning back against the invisible wall behind you.
“Not really,” he says, chuckling. “I didn’t have time to make a bigger space. You don’t mind being so close, do you?”
Not even a little bit, but you’re not just going to say that outright.You make a show of hemming and hawing over it, pretending like you actually have to think.
“I guess I’ll survive,” you sigh in a put-upon matter. Solomon obviously doesn’t buy it.
“Yes, yes. I’m sure you’ll be miserable the whole time we’re in here,” he replies, leaning closer and not even trying to hide it. Man. He looks pretty handsome in the candlelight, the sharp shadows from the darkness in the area highlight his features really well. The golden color of the spell really brings out the fawn colored flecks in his eyes. The tight quarters, the way you can feel his legs against your own and his chest pressed to yours, it’s quite.. What’s the word? Enticing? Let’s go with that.
“Exactly,” you say, looking down at his tie instead of his face so you don’t stare overmuch. “Absolutely miserable. I’m suffering so much right now.”
“Well,” he says merrily, wrapping his free arm around you with a perfectly casual air. “I, for one, am enjoying myself. This is cozy.”
More than willing to lean against him, you allow him to pull you even closer. “Glad you’re having fun,” you snort, looking back up at his face.
“I am indeed,” he confirms, then makes a thinking face. “But we could be having more fun while we wait for Lucifer to get far enough away to escape.”
You raise your eyebrows at him. “What exactly are you suggesting?” you ask. You have an idea, of course, but you want to make sure the two of you are on the same page.
Solomon lifts his hand up over your heads and when he brings it back down, the candle flame stays in place above you. “I think you know,” he says softly, leaning in.
Yeah, you do know. Not wanting to be passive in this situation, you hook a finger in his collar and pull him to you fully, pressing your mouth to his. He gives a pleased sigh, sliding his hands up your back and squeezing you against him tightly. You start out small, short little kisses, but before long he switches things up and then there’s a whole tongue in your mouth. Alright. You can work with that. You place your hands on his chest, which earns you another little happy noise from him, then slide them up to curl in the back of his (surprisingly very soft) hair. You could probably stay here like this forever, honestly.
Forever doesn’t last very long, though. Before long, there’s a hollow knocking sound that echoes through the shadowy chamber, sounding like someone’s tapping on the stone at the top of a well and you’re at the very bottom. Solomon pulls away with an irritated sigh, resting his forehead on yours.
“Looks like we’re caught,” he huffs. “What do you say? We go out and face the music, or we stay in here until he decides to open up the pocket passage and drag us out?”
You groan, burying your face in the crook of his neck and shoulder. “If we wait he’ll just be even more pissed.” This knowledge comes from experience, unfortunately.
“You’re probably right,” Solomon replies wistfully, obviously disappointed that you’ll have to cut your little private moment short. “We’ll continue this later. You can come visit the Hall when you’re done with whatever punishment he comes up with.”
You smile against his collar. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll let you know when I’m free.” He nods, pressing a quick kiss to what he can reach of your head (swoon) and reluctantly letting you go.
“Come on then,” he says, taking your hand.
You watch as he traces another square, light appearing around the edges of it. This one is bigger, you only have to step over the edge rather than climb through.
“Solomon,” Lucifer rumbles, voice barely hiding his agitation. “I should have known you’d help (_) if the two of you crossed paths.”
“Of course,” Solomon replies, tugging you to his side by the hand. “I’m generous like that.”
“Yeah!” you say cheerfully. “Isn’t he a sweetheart?” you say, reaching up and running your fingers through his silvery hair. Silky. Asmo’s probably responsible for that, you know the two of them have spa days together.
“Whatever you say,” Lucifer sighs, crossing his arms. “(_), come with me. You’re cleaning up the mess you made.”
“Ugh. Fine ,” you concede. You did make the mess, after all. It’s only fair you clean it up.
Solomon stifles a chuckle behind his hand and you shoot him an evil glare that doesn’t serve to do much of anything.
“See you later,” he smiles at you, leaning in and kissing you on the cheek. “I look forward to our plans,” he says mysteriously (to Lucifer, at least) before turning around with a flourish of the weird uniform cape thing and walking off to wherever it is he was headed before you crashed into him like a train.
Lucifer pinches the bridge of his nose before gesturing for you to follow after him, heading back to the staircase where you assaulted him with colorful balls of watery polymer. Your eyes stray to the lapels of his uniform jacket.
“You’ve got some stuff right here,” you say, plucking an orbee(z?) out of the little nook his jacket makes. “And here,” you add, pulling one out of his hair.
“And whose fault is that?” he says sharply, directing a salty look at you.
“I wonder,” you muse, looking up at him coyly. He’s unimpressed.
Cleaning up the water beads is a nightmare, they ended up rolling everywhere. It takes you an hour to find them all. Fortunately Lucifer provides you with a broom and dustpan, so you don’t have to pick them up by hand, but still . Next time you’ll have to come up with a prank that’s easier to clean up.