Archive of Our Own ^beta

None of them realize what the consequences will be when they kill Eve. They don't hit immediately either. It takes years for the space she left in the universe to demand someone fill it. It’s not that Lucifer decided to take up the mantle after he clawed his way back up from Hell. Something else did, fate, luck, or sometimes, Sam wonders, maybe his Dad popped in for one last miracle in exchange for Lucifer behaving himself.

Whatever the case is, Sam’s supposed to be a hunter, and when he lets Lucifer come with him on a hunt, Lucifer is supposed to help him kill monsters. Lucifer… doesn’t do that.

It's only him and Lucifer on this hunt. Someone claims a statue that usually rests on top of the local church has been moving, swooping down and taking people away. Signs point to a gargoyle, and they have to wait until it strikes again. They're invulnerable in their statue state. They can't even be smashed. Someone has to play bait, and Lucifer is closer to the victims than Sam is. Sam doesn't like it, not with Lucifer as low on power as he is and so new to hunting, but there isn't much of a choice if they don't want to get someone else involved. Besides, Lucifer volunteers. If he's uncomfortable waiting around in a church, he doesn't show it. He paces up and down the aisle, taking in the figures in stained glass. He huffs once, pointing out a creature that's meant to be him to Sam, and Sam chuckles. It looks more like the thing they're hunting than Lucifer, either his vessel or his true form.

Sam leaves the room for ten minutes. That's all.

When he comes back, Lucifer isn't standing in the aisle anymore.

The gargoyle has come down from the roof for its prey, but it isn't snatching Lucifer into the sky and dropping him on the spires of the cathedral. It has him against a wall, its short wings beating hard. Lucifer's vessel is a tall guy, but with that beast on top of him, all muscle flexing under stone-gray scales and a jaw big enough to take Lucifer's arm off, he sure looks tiny. Sam has his gun ready in seconds. He can't shoot without a chance of hitting Lucifer.

And then Lucifer moans.

Sam nearly fumbles his gun in surprise. It turns to horror quickly as he watches the gargoyle hump Lucifer. He's been on hunts that went wrong before, but most monsters would sooner eat someone or tear them to shreds than-

The gargoyle rears back, pulling Lucifer with it before shoving him to the ground. To Sam's shock, Lucifer doesn't try to get away. He arches his back, invitation enough for the gargoyle to pounce on him again and press him to the floor. It thrusts hard enough to push him forward, drags him back with its claws, but somehow, it isn't being rough enough to draw blood. Sam has a perfect shot now, but he can't pull his eyes away from Lucifer. His moans echo through the cathedral, walls built for resounding hymns instead spreading the sound of Lucifer being fucked for the first time.

His eyes meet Sam's. Sam can't breathe. He searches for any sign of fear or pain and finds none. Lucifer's enjoying himself.

The gargoyle slams into him one last time with a howl. Lucifer's eyes shut. From the sounds he makes, the way his body writhes under the gargoyle, Sam knows he's coming. Sam's dick twitches.

The gargoyle pulls out of Lucifer. Its dick is much bigger than a human's. Sam can hear the slick sound of Lucifer's hole releasing it. It's wet with the gargoyle's semen. Lucifer goes limp, and the monster steps over him, tail swaying and wings stretched out with lazy satisfaction. That's when it spots Sam. It bares its teeth at him and growls. Sam gets off three good shots before it goes down. He's a little horrified by the fact that its cock is still hard as it dies. He snaps out of it, rushing over to Lucifer and helping him sit up. Above them, a glass rendition of Eve eats the fruit. It reflects soft colors over Lucifer, making him look ethereal. Sam checks him for any wounds, but he's unharmed. Lucifer's gaze drifts over the corpse of the gargoyle.

"Why did you do that?" he says. Sam looks at him in confusion. "We weren't done. It might not take now."

"What are you talking about?" Sam asks. Lucifer doesn't look upset, but pensive, his hand drifting over his stomach. "Lucifer, are you okay?" He might be in shock. Sam has no idea how to handle something like this delicately. Why didn't he move faster? Why didn't he stop it? Lucifer gasps, a near inaudible sound. "Hey-"

"It's alright. I have one," Lucifer says as Sam gets him to his feet. "Hm. More than one." He smiles. He's leaning most of his weight on Sam, relying on him to keep him upright. (He looks well-fucked, Sam mind supplies as he takes in Lucifer's loose gait. He tries to ignore it.)

"More than one what? You're not making any sense." Sam needs to get him to the car. He'll need to lay his jacket down to keep the mess off the seats.

"What do you call a baby gargoyle?" Lucifer asks. Sam's heart stops.

"What?"

"Do I have to explain to you how the birds and the bees work?"

"That's not possible." Lucifer's vessel might come equipped with different parts than Sam has, but that doesn't mean he can carry a child, much less one that's not even human. Lucifer tilts his head.

"I'm an angel," he says, like that explains anything.

He's being serious, Sam realizes.

"Jesus," he says, "okay, we'll figure out a way to get rid of them, I promise." Lucifer tenses. Sam considers the whole encounter, Lucifer moaning as the gargoyle fucked him, his confusion at Sam making him stop, the way he smiled once he knew he was pregnant... and begins to understand that Lucifer wants this. He asked to come with Sam, and asked to be bait, and he wanted this to happen. Sam can't for the life of him understand why, but what's he going to do? At the end of the day, Lucifer has always cared about what Sam wanted to do with his own body, more than most did, and Sam can't force him to do something he doesn't want with his. God, Dean is going to kill him if he finds out.

If. And with that, the words are out of Sam's mouth before he can think better of them.

"You understand that if you keep them, you can't tell anyone." This is a terrible idea. Nothing has ever gone right with Sam keeping secrets from his brother. Only, Lucifer leans back into Sam, humming happily. He's warm at Sam's side, and Sam can't remember the last time he heard Lucifer come close to singing. It says a lot about how difficult he finds the adjustment to being so close to human that he sang for Sam more often in the Cage than in the Bunker. As they make their way to the car and he helps Lucifer into the passenger seat, he has fully made up his mind. Lucifer always seems to get what he wants, in the end.

Sam’s sure they’ll have more time to figure out their next move, but Lucifer starts showing by the end of the week. Not by much, but Dean notices enough to comment on it, a barb about how Lucifer needs to get off his ass and into the field more before he gets chubby. Lucifer ignores him, business as usual for him and Dean, but Sam’s blood runs cold.

All he can think about is Amy. About Dean’s rigid line in the sand between what gets to live and what they need to kill. About how hard it was to convince him that Lucifer needed to stay with them, that lingering promise of ‘if he so much as lays a hand on you, Sam, I’ll chop his head off’, meant to be comforting and now ringing in Sam’s ears like a threat.

He pulls Lucifer aside. “How long is this going to take, exactly?” Lucifer’s hand drops to his stomach. He does that a lot, now. Sam wonders how much of it he can feel with the grace he has left, cells multiplying, tissue growing. He seems lighter these days.

“Two weeks?” Lucifer guesses. “Maybe less. They’re growing faster than they should. I think that’s part of the blessing.” That’s what Lucifer’s taken to calling it, this desire he's acquired to seek out a monster and have its babies. Sam might have said curse.

“How are you so calm?” Sam asks. Lucifer’s the one with monsters growing inside him, and Sam’s doing most of his panicking for him. Lucifer shrugs.

“Did I ever tell you about where hellhounds come from?” Sam frowns, confused, and Lucifer continues. “Dad sent an extermination order. Too vicious, he called them. My siblings wiped all of them out but one, a hellhound with her first litter, and I hid her away. When she needed someone to carry her children, I… helped.” He smiles fondly at the memory. “You could say this isn’t my first rodeo.”

“You’re not going to be safe here much longer,” Sam tells him. Lucifer’s eyes drift in the direction of the kitchen, where he last saw Dean, and for the first time, Sam sees a hint of worry cross his features.

“If you can understand-“ he starts, unsure.

“I don’t,” Sam cuts him off. “I’m doing this for you, not for…" The monsters Lucifer is pregnant with are still that, monsters. Sam would still hunt them. He'd have to. "If it was anyone else, I’d be with Dean. We can’t bring more evil into the world.” But it isn’t anyone else. It’s Lucifer, and Sam can’t lose him, no matter the consequences. His soul can’t take being apart from him again.

“They’re my children,” Lucifer says, hurt. “I can raise them not to hurt humans. You won’t need to hunt them.”

“I don’t think Dean will believe you.” Sam’s not sure he does either. “I’ll find an excuse to get you out of here before it gets too obvious.” Sam’s never thought about the logistics of this before. Fuck, Lucifer is going to give birth. Sam doesn’t know how to deliver a child. “Do you need to go to a hospital-“

“No,” Lucifer says, simply.

“What about pain meds? Or stitches? Or-“

“Sam,” he says, “it’ll take care of itself.”

He sounds so sure that Sam has no choice but to take his word.

Lucifer's getting used to the new balance of his vessel as his belly grows. He's sick most mornings (with Sam there to rub his back until he feels better) and complains about little aches and pains the rest of the time (until Sam gives in and massages those away, too.) Despite that, he's happier than Sam's ever seen him. He sings to himself more often or to his babies. Sam watches him all the time, trying to judge how soon they'll need to get away. A baby bump is a hard thing to hide, especially when there's more than one baby in there. Eventually, they pack up and take off. Lucifer squirms around in the passenger seat, trying to get comfortable, as Sam guides them somewhere far enough away that Dean won't be able to easily pop by for a check-in. He pays through the end of the week at the motel they pick. Lucifer doesn't leave their room after that. Sam gets them food, wards the room so that nothing can come in or spy on them, and ends up letting Lucifer borrow all of his blankets and pillows so that Lucifer can make a comfy nest to lay in.

On a cold night two weeks later, Lucifer proves himself right. The birth is quick and as far as Sam can tell from Lucifer not screaming his head off, completely painless. Sam wipes the gargoyle pups off, their gray-scale hides soft under his fingers as compared to the adult one he’d killed with its rough skin. Lucifer wants to hold all of them, murmuring to them in Enochian. Sam’s not sure if he remembers that Sam can speak his language, too.

Lucifer is telling his babies he loves them.

“Do you need to…” Sam gestures at Lucifer’s chest, unable to say it. There’s a gargoyle curled up where he’s gesturing, fast asleep. Lucifer looks down at himself.

“I don’t think gargoyles nurse their young,” he answers, “or else my body would have accommodated it.”

“That doesn’t freak you out?” Lucifer stares at him.

“No more than being in a body at all does. I’m made of light, Sam. Flesh is inherently unsettling to me.” He strokes the back of one of his babies, sleeping in the crook of his arm. “Less so these past few weeks. It’s been… nice.”

“You’d think that would make it worse. All the changes and having something else inside you.” After all, Lucifer takes vessels. He’s never served as one.

“I like having a purpose again,” Lucifer says. He’s lowering his voice, as though he doesn’t want to wake his children, and Sam follows suit without thinking about it. “It’s been a long time since I was charged with creating anything, and look at them, Sam.” He sounds so proud of himself, of the babies piled on him. “They’re beautiful.”

Sam does look. He should see the snarling monster that sired them, all the harm it did and the people it hurt, knowing that these things will grow up to be exactly like that. He can’t. All he can see is four tiny beings in Lucifer’s arms, cuddling him and each other, exhausted from coming into the world.

And Lucifer’s right. They’re beautiful.

Sam looks away.

Lucifer takes care of the babies until they’re self-sufficient, which isn’t very long. Whatever accelerated growth was happening to them inside him continues outside, and they’re ready to leave the nest in three days. As Lucifer lets them go, soft goodbyes and gentle kisses on their now rough scales, Sam tries not to think about why it’s so fast.

They’re hunting a werewolf. An old one, by the looks of it, because it’s one of the few Sam has heard of that looks more wolf than human to witnesses. Most only get partial transformations, recognized by neighbors who were lucky enough to cross their path and not get chowed on. Lucifer’s been surprisingly helpful this hunt, pinning down the exact location the wolf should be and where it might strike next. They got to town early in the moon cycle, so the second night, they’re going to stay in and rest before taking on the werewolf tomorrow.

Or, they’re supposed to. Sam’s woken up a little before midnight by Lucifer sneaking out. He’s surprised Dean doesn’t, too, but he did drive them all the way here and he’s a heavy sleeper the night after a trip. Sam is the only one awake to follow Lucifer out.

Lucifer’s already pulling on the Impala's door by the time Sam gets to the parking lot of the motel. His brow is furrowed as it refuses to open for him. Sam knocks on the trunk. Lucifer jumps. Sam holds up the keys.

“Where are you going?” Sam asks as Lucifer backs away from the door, openly ashamed at being caught.

“I…” Lucifer stalls. He’s developed an obvious tell, and Sam can see when he goes to touch his belly.

“Seriously? You want to do that again?”

“It isn’t want. It’s need.” Lucifer snaps. “I can hear it all the time, calling for me. It’s getting hard to sleep, and if I-“

“No! End of story. No more monster babies. We were lucky not to get caught the first time.” Even as Sam is talking to him, Lucifer’s eyes glaze over and his head turns as though tuning in to an unheard signal. “Lucifer? Hey!” Lucifer makes a noise, this quiet, desperate plea that tugs at Sam’s heart.

He’s been miserable. Sam knows that. Lucifer’s gotten moody and quick to lash out. Even now, he’s all tensed up.

For a few weeks, he was the exact opposite of this. Relaxed and happy and easy to be around, and all because he was pregnant.

Sam can’t actually be considering this.

“Get in. I’ll drive.”

Sam looks back at the motel room Dean’s asleep in only once, feeling a twist of guilt as he tries not to think about the last time he snuck off in the night with someone behind his brother’s back.

"Will you kill it?" Lucifer asks.

"Probably," Sam answers, honestly.

Lucifer doesn't speak to him for the rest of the car ride.

The werewolf is fully transformed when they find it. There's no blood on its muzzle or pelt, so it's safe to assume it hasn't hurt anyone tonight. Its eyes are filled with intelligence when it turns to face the two of them. It sniffs the air, dropping to all four paws as it pads forward. It steps between Lucifer and Sam, casting a dark glare at Sam as though it knows what he's here to do.

Lucifer undresses. He must have done the same for the gargoyle, let it approach while he readied himself. Sam's eyes skate over his naked body. He's handsome. Sam can admit that to himself safely enough. He doesn't have a hunter's body, made of muscle and used to harsh living conditions. He came back to Sam in the body of someone who had the luxury of not fighting every minute of his life.

Lucifer gets down on his hands and knees for the wolf. Sam's eyes dart down between his legs, both eager for a glimpse and embarrassed that he's looking. Lucifer spreads his legs. He's wet, ready to take a cock, so much so that even the hair surrounding his hole is damp with his arousal. The wolf sniffs him again.

If it bites him... Sam has to trust that it won't hurt him, just as the gargoyle didn't. It wants something else. The wolf drapes itself over Lucifer's back, blocking Sam's view.

Not that he wants to watch.

He can't tear his eyes away, though. It thrusts into Lucifer hard and fast, not concerned at all with his pleasure. It wants to breed him. Lucifer is having his fun anyway, jerking back and forth with each thrust. The sounds they make send heat down Sam's spine.

It's not his fault. Lucifer's vessel is his type. It's got nothing to do with him or with watching a monster fuck him. Sam's dick is only responding to hearing a body he's attracted to moan.

Sam is learning exactly what Lucifer looks like as he gets closer to coming, the way he shakes apart, the way he sounds, the way his legs twitch like they want to drop out from under him and leave him hung in the air on the werewolf's cock. Sam does his best not to imagine what he would feel like, wet and open, pulling Sam in... He shakes the image off.

Lucifer's never even hinted that he wants that. He's shown more interest in getting fucked by this werewolf than by Sam.

He wants Sam here to help him. To protect him. That's the only reason.

Lucifer's moans get a little more desperate as he's fucked through his orgasm. He doesn't try to get away. He wants the exact same thing the wolf does, to get himself knocked up. The wolf obliges. It buries itself in Lucifer with one last thrust. Sam watches as Lucifer gets filled up with werewolf come. He looks exactly the way he did the first time Sam saw him get fucked, like he's right where he's meant to be.

Sam waits for the werewolf to pull out. It doesn't, exactly. First, it leans down, pressing its nose against Lucifer's neck and shoulder like a thank you. Lucifer murmurs something quietly back at it. The werewolf's head rises, turning his gaze on Sam again. It keeps watching him as it gets off of Lucifer, turning its back to him, but its cock remains inside him. Lucifer shudders. They're knotted together, buying the werewolf time before Sam puts it down for good. In the meantime, he approaches slowly. The wolf growls, but Lucifer says something, squeezing down on its cock, and it lets Sam pass to check on him.

He's a mess. His elbows and knees are covered in dirt, and he has to stay in that position until the knot goes down. Sam strokes his back in a way he hopes is comforting. He can see how thick the cock inside Lucifer is, imagine the knot holding them together that must be even thicker. Lucifer's going to be gaping open after this.

Why is that thought making Sam harder? What is wrong with him?

"You're okay?" Sam asks. Lucifer takes a deep breath.

"For the first time in a while," Lucifer answers. "How many do you think he could give me, Sam?" Sam's cheeks are hot.

"Um. I don't know. How many do werewolves normally...?"

"I have no idea," Lucifer says, sounding delighted, "but it's going to be a lot. He's still..." Lucifer shudders, trailing off. Sam's forcibly reminded that the cock inside him is still coming. Lucifer is going to be leaking the stuff everywhere when it pulls out. "Oh. That's one."

"Guess I'm finding us another reason to get out of Dean's sight for a week." It never even crosses Sam's mind to stop his own involvement. Where Lucifer goes, he goes. If Lucifer needs this, then Sam will help him get it.

"Three, now." Sam wonders if that's Lucifer's own grace informing him exactly when he's impregnated or part of the larger... blessing, next to the quick gestation and the call pulling Lucifer to get on his knees for a werewolf. Lucifer reaches for Sam, and Sam squeezes his hand. He listens as Lucifer alternates between soft moans and whispering, "Four, Sam. Five. Six pups."

Sam's too distracted by him to remember the plan or the silver bullet he has ready. When the werewolf pulls out, Sam's more concerned with Lucifer than it, and by the time he remembers, it has run away.

"Damnit."

"You can leave town tomorrow. I told him why you were here." Sam's got some sharp words to throw at him for that, do the people who have already been hurt by the wolf mean nothing? are they supposed to let it go because it gave you a good time?, but he falters as he looks at Lucifer. He's happy again, hand on his belly with new life growing inside him, and Sam can't bring himself to say a word that might make him upset.

Come morning, and the next day spent searching for a werewolf who has vanished into thin air, Dean is in a much worse mood. It's like he and Lucifer swapped places, Dean glaring at the steering wheel in silence as he drives, Lucifer humming along to the songs playing off the tape.

Whatever guilt Sam felt last night is still there, but when he glances in the rear view mirror and sees Lucifer smile, it lessens enough that he can ignore it.

They all share a shower room at the Bunker. It's not that strange for Sam to walk in while someone else is taking theirs. They're cordoned off in their own stalls, so it's still fairly private. Or, it is until Sam hears Lucifer say, "You should come see this."

He's washing shampoo out of his hair, and he tilts out of the shower spray to say back, "I really don't want to see you naked."

"You already have," Lucifer calls his bluff, "except for this. This is new." Sam pauses. That could mean a worrying number of things. Unfortunately, the first place his brain goes to is 'werewolf STD'. He takes a deep breath, turns off the shower, and wraps himself in a towel before going over to Lucifer's stall.

Lucifer is letting the hot water slide down his back, sighing as it eases his muscles. Sam swallows as he's treated to a full view of Lucifer's backside, no werewolves in the way or dirt on his shins. "What-" He has to say that again; it came out strangled. "What is it?" Lucifer straightens. He turns to face Sam, the spray still pounding against his back, the higher streams spilling over his shoulders and down his chest. Sam recognizes what's different instantly.

Lucifer's got tits.

Not a little extra fat on his chest. Sam does a double-take, but they stay right there, breasts that, if not for the scars right underneath them, Sam would think Lucifer had always had them. Lucifer touches one, and Sam has a lot of trouble thinking anything coherent as he watches Lucifer squeeze it. The hair that grew over his chest before has spilled out onto them, and suddenly, Sam is very glad he wrapped himself in a towel before coming over. "Where did those come from?" Sam asks. Lucifer moves from one breast to the other, like he's testing how the sensations match up. He's looking down at himself, and his thumb traces a stretch mark. Sam would really like him to stop touching himself so that Sam can focus.

"I assume werewolves nurse their young," Lucifer answers. "It was just a theory before but... I think I'll change for whatever I'm carrying." Lucifer's belly is already starting to round out, hidden well enough under multiple layers but like this, Sam can tell he's pregnant in seconds. He ended up huge last time with only four gargoyles to give birth to. Now, he's got a whole litter of werewolf pups inside him. "They ache a little."

"What?" Sam looks at the way Lucifer is massaging himself again. He’s doing it the same way he would with a sore muscle. "That's probably because they grew so fast?" He wracks his brain, harder than it sounds when most of his blood has made the decision to go south. "If you're producing... producing milk"—he stumbles over the words—"then they're going to be tender. You might need to pump them." Lucifer looks at him blankly. "You have milk and no babies to feed yet. I'm pretty sure it's bad for you to just let it sit." Then again, Sam has no idea. He hasn’t exactly been around an abundance of pregnant people in his life. "I can buy you a pump, don't worry." He'll drop hints to Dean that he's buying some kind of sex toy, and Dean won't look in his mail. He'll get teased about it relentlessly, but he can take that for Lucifer's sake.

Lucifer frowns. He squeezes his breast again. "It hurts now." Same petulant whine as when he burned his tongue the other day or when his back hurt from sleeping in the Impala. A little human inconvenience that he blew out of proportion.

Sam should tell him to suck it up and wait a few days.

"I might be able to help," he hears himself say instead. "You're okay with me touching you?"

"You've known me in far more intimate ways," Lucifer answers. Sam narrows his eyes, and Lucifer huffs, annoyed that his answer isn't sufficient. "Yes, Sam. You can always touch me."

Lucifer's breast is very soft under Sam's palm. Sam's not sure what he's expecting, for Lucifer to jump away from him or to arch his back into the contact. He does neither. That makes it easier, that he allows Sam to take care of this without making a scene about it. Sam's once again very, very grateful for the towel, and as long as he doesn't look down, he doesn't have to know how well or how poorly it's hiding his erection.

"Just... relax. We can probably trick your body into thinking it has someone to feed." Sam has no idea what he's doing, but how hard could it be? He's read off-hand articles before about how some people start leaking just from hearing a baby cry, even if it's not theirs, so it can't be that hard to encourage a little milk out to make Lucifer more comfortable.

The easiest way would probably be for Sam to put his mouth on Lucifer's nipple and suck.

He swallows and decides he will not be doing that. He can't. He doesn't even want to. At all.

Instead, he circles Lucifer's nipple with his thumb, feeling it rise under the attention. He's hoping the warm water will help. He's getting his towel wet by stepping closer to Lucifer in the stall.

No one else showers this early. No one will see.

Sam pinches Lucifer's nipple. Not hard, just a squeeze between his wet fingers. He goes back to circling it. Lucifer's breathing has slowed. The sound of the shower has faded from Sam's ears, even as water still spills over onto Lucifer's chest, catching in his hair. All Sam can hear is Lucifer's soft exhales. Sam keeps up the rhythm as he sees milk drip onto his fingers. Lucifer lets out a sigh of relief. It slides down Sam's hand, washed away by the shower seconds later. Hot water never seems to run out in the Bunker, and so Sam has all the time in the world to milk Lucifer. He has until someone else wants a shower, anyway, or until someone notices he and Lucifer have been missing for too long. That's enough time. Lucifer's milk comes in a steady stream, drop after drop. Sam works him until he runs dry before moving on the the other breast, which is already leaking.

"You feel better?" Sam asks when he's done, reaching behind Lucifer to shut off the water. Lucifer nods. "We should probably go get breakfast before someone comes looking for us." Sam needs to figure what to do with this new development, too. Maybe a tight sports bra, and Lucifer will look close to normal? (Not that they'll be able to stick around much longer anyway.)

Sam gets a new towel and tosses one to Lucifer as well. He corrects how Lucifer wraps it around himself, pulling it up higher to cover his breasts. From Lucifer's expression, he can tell he finds the attempt at modesty hilarious.

Once he's back in his own room, Sam absently lifts his fingers to his mouth. He imagines he can taste something sweet on them.

Sam tries not to panic when Dean calls him a few days after he and Lucifer have left the Bunker again.

His first thought is that stressing Lucifer out won't be good for the babies. He excuses himself to take the call outside the motel room. He lingers a second too long at the doorway, phone in hand, looking back. Lucifer's singing again. He must know if his babies are able to hear him. Part of Sam wants to ignore Dean and go back to Lucifer's side. Another part knows that prolonging the inevitable is only going to come back to bite him.

"Dean?" His brother's quiet on the other end for a minute before he finally responds back with,

"Hey, Sammy." Sam studies his voice. He doesn't sound angry. That's good.

"Did something happen?" The pauses between Dean's answers are killing him.

"No. Nothing's wrong over here." He can hear Dean exhale, can see him rubbing the bridge of his nose in his mind's eye. "Listen, Sam, you're okay, right?"

"What?"

"You can go wherever you want, with whoever you like. I trust you. Just... you and Lucifer going off together, you're doing that because you want to. Not because he's threatening you or-"

"Dean, he doesn't even have enough grace in him to fix his toast when he burns it. He couldn't make me go anywhere," Sam interrupts. Dean chuckles weakly. He's worried about Sam. Of course he is, Dean's never really bought into the Cage twisting up Sam's memories of Lucifer to torture him, rather than it being Lucifer himself who did the torturing. He's trying to keep Sam safe, like he always does. This time, Sam can't even blame him. That only makes it harder knowing that if Dean found out the real reason they were out here, he'd turn on Lucifer, and probably on Sam, too, faster than they could blink. Lucifer probably wouldn't survive that switch. Sam would, in theory, but if Lucifer died, he would never be whole again. He knows that. Maybe he can use it to his advantage.

"It's nothing, really," Sam lies. "I don't think you'd understand. You've never been possessed. Sometimes, him and I need to be alone together." He holds his breath, waiting for Dean's response.

"Nothing else to it?" Dean asks. "...You're not saying yes to him over there and letting him take your body for a joyride, are you?"

"Even if I was, we both know I can take back control or kick him out whenever I want." He means that to be reassuring. It's the wrong thing to say, from the way Dean sucks in a breath. Sam rushes to correct it. "But I'm not letting him do that. I wouldn't."

"Okay. I trust you," Dean repeats. He doesn't hang up or say goodbye, lingering on the topic for a few seconds longer. "If there is a different reason behind it-"

"There's not."

"If there is," Dean emphasizes, "and it's bad, you tell me. I'll shoot him dead for you." He can hear Dean smile in the next words, even if they are a little strained. "If it's a good reason, on the other hand, maybe spare me the details." Sam chokes.

"It's not that!"

"Someone's defensive."

"I'm hanging up." Sam's finger hovers over the button.

"Wait, hold on. Take care of yourself, Sammy." Sam presses the phone back against his ear to hear that.

"You too, Dean." Dean hangs up first.

Back inside the motel room, Lucifer is staring down at himself, eyes wide with delight. He looks up at Sam as he enters, and Sam can't feel too bad about lying to Dean. Even if Lucifer has stolen all of the blankets. Again.

"Come here," Lucifer says, excitedly. He scoots himself closer to Sam when he sits on the side of the bed. It takes obvious effort. He's huge. Lucifer's predicting a day or two before he has to give birth. He takes Sam's hand in his and presses it against his stomach. His skin is cool. Sam feels a little movement beneath the surface and then another. He's never felt a baby kick before.

Sam's been helping Lucifer with his milk for more than a week. It's strange to deviate from that routine now, but it's not like Lucifer needs his help. The six pups are more than enough to take care of that. They're a loud bunch, whining and pushing each other around while waiting to be fed. (They were born wolves. Sam wonders if that means they'll become human during the full moon, rather than the other way around.) Sam's not needed for this, and he sits at his laptop instead to do research. His eyes keep drifting back to Lucifer anyway. He's so gentle with the pups, speaking softly and handling them with care.

Sam watched him beat Dean nearly to death once. Bury an entire town. Massacre gods and Gabriel with his own two hands.

Lucifer coos at the werewolf puppies. They yip back, high-pitched and squeaky.

"They'll be ready for us to return them to their father soon enough," Lucifer says. "A few days, give or take."

"We don't even know where..." Lucifer gives him a look, and Sam sighs. "What do you want me to do, Lucifer? Let it escape a second time?"

"Yes. For our pups." One of them whines like it knows it's being talked about. Lucifer cradles it, pulling it close so that it can feed.

"Your pups," Sam corrects.

The flash of hurt that crosses Lucifer's face makes him regret it.

"Isn't that enough?" Lucifer says.

"This is my job," Sam says. "My life." The words sound hollow even to him. He's arguing a cause he doesn’t believe in, only been drafted in for so long that he's forgotten what home looks like. Not that he ever knew.

"If you would kill their father, why not them?" says Lucifer. Sam looks at the werewolf puppies, nipping at each other's ears playfully. "Why not me, Sam? I've done worse things than any creature you've ever hunted."

"That's different," Sam says. He knows it's not.

"I'll bring them myself. I don't need you," Lucifer says. He knows he does.

Head to head in a contest of wills, Sam wins. He proved that under fire, and if he wants to push Lucifer now, Sam's pretty sure he'll come out on top. Lucifer would be miserable and never forgive him, but Sam could put a stop to this. There would be no more hiding from Dean, no more new monsters let out into the world because of them... and no more of Lucifer taking care of his babies while Sam watches. He would never see this soft side of the devil again. The only part of Lucifer allowed to grow would be the one angry enough to end the world.

Lucifer made him a promise that his children wouldn't hurt anyone. Sam has to believe that.

"Where do we take them?" he asks. He can see the way Lucifer eases when he realizes Sam isn't going to keep fighting him on this. He turns his head to press a kiss against the pup he’s nursing.

"Not yet," he says. "Let me keep them a few more days."

Sam can’t be okay with letting the werewolf go, so he averts his eyes. Plausible deniability.

He can still hear the puppies barking excitedly and the wolf’s answering grumbles. It sounds… loving. How is Sam supposed to square that with monstrousness? 

He watches Lucifer instead. Lucifer is someone he can wrap his head around, if only because Lucifer has been him and he has been Lucifer. He knows the depths of love the archangel has within him. I’ve done worse things than any creature you’ve ever hunted, he’d said because he promised never to lie to Sam, and he never has. He hurt Sam more than anyone ever had by forcing Sam’s hand and making him drag them both into Hell, and in betraying what Lucifer believed they would be together, Sam hurt him right back. He crawls into Sam’s bed at the Bunker some nights because nightmares are new to him and he has so many, and Sam wraps his arms around him and pulls him in until they’re so close, they might melt into each other and become one again.

Lucifer is the devil, and Sam’s closest friend, and a murderer, and Sam’s soulmate, and now, the mother to more monsters that Sam should want to hunt. 

He sees Lucifer swallow down his grief at his babies leaving the nest, and he puts an arm around him until Lucifer leans into his side. He fits, soaking in Sam’s warmth.

There’s something else that Sam has always known about Lucifer. Lucifer loves him.

And something Sam is slowly beginning to realize the truth of: he loves Lucifer back.

It's barely a day after they gave the puppies to the werewolf when Sam catches Lucifer with his shirt off.

His breasts are completely gone. All that remains are the scars that got rid of his vessel's original pair. Lucifer catches him staring. For once, Sam doesn't turn away.

He should know it isn't going to end there. Lucifer's need isn't going to go away after two times.

Sometimes, Sam catches himself tracing Lucifer's figure with his eyes, as though he'll turn and Sam will catch a glimpse of a small bump that gives away him being pregnant again. He should also know that Lucifer isn't going anywhere without him.

They're by the coast for a completely different reason when Lucifer looks at him one day, doesn't even have to say a word, and Sam know what he needs.

Sam hesitates, but maybe not as long as he should.

"You're sure this is safe?" Sam asks. Lucifer's already wading into the water. From the safety of the shore, Sam can see the tops of heads poking out of the water of all different colors, muddy browns and sharp greens and deep purples, some with fins that fall around their heads like hair, others smoothed over with scales. There's a lot of them. How easy would it be for one of them to hold Lucifer's head under the water while the others kept Sam at bay?

Lucifer insists whatever they seek out won't hurt him, not when they can breed him instead. Sam keeps his gun close anyway.

Lucifer sinks to his knees in the water once he's where he wants to be. It's shallow enough for him, but deep enough for the mermaids to approach. One swims near, bold as the orange shade of its tail as it breaks through the water. It pushes itself out of the water until it’s face-to-face with Lucifer, studying him with unblinking eyes. It lifts a hand out of the water and shoves him back with a splash. Sam straightens up in alarm, but Lucifer catches himself as the mermaid squirms on top of him.

Sam can't see much from where he is. Most of the action is blocked by the churning water and their bodies. He can tell when something enters Lucifer, though. The noise he makes is unmistakable. The mermaid helps, cradling his head to keep him above water as it wriggles and beats its tail to propel itself against him.

Sam watches Lucifer's expression. It tells him everything. When Lucifer is getting fucked as deep as he likes it, when his dick is getting rubbed by the body pressing against him, when the mermaid finally unloads inside him.

The mermaid slides off of him. When it lets him go, he nearly falls into the shallow water, still riding out his own pleasure and unable to coordinate his limbs. Without thinking, Sam strides into the water with him. The mermaids who haven't had a turn yet hiss and withdraw. Some of them raise their tail fins out of the water, flared wide to scare him off. Sam ignores them, kneeling down next to Lucifer and holding him. He blinks up at Sam.

"You'll scare them away," he says, voice soft and lazy. Sam's dick twitches, a Pavlovian reaction to seeing Lucifer get like this.

"You drowning will make this a lot harder than me being here," Sam says. He strokes Lucifer's wet hair back from his face. Lucifer considers this, absently touching his stomach.

"Throw your weapons back to the shore," he says. "They won't come unless they feel safe." Sam hesitates. Lucifer whines. "I'm so empty, Sam, and they have so much to give me. I can feel it."

Sam's going to listen to him. It's only ever a matter of time. He gets rid of his weapons and stays with Lucifer, keeping him safely above the water. It's a while before another mermaid gets brave enough to come near. Its black tail trails behind it, and its face is too long to mistake for something human, its jaw too wide when it opens. It butts its head against Lucifer's stomach, right over his hand, and then it looks up at Sam.

It takes Sam a minute to realize what it's waiting for.

"Go ahead," he says, "you can- you can fuck him."

From this angle, Sam can see even less of what's happening between them. The mermaid squirms and writhes on top of Lucifer, and Lucifer pants and throws his head back against Sam's chest. His moans border on overstimulated, but he never makes any motion that he wants it to stop. Sam focuses on soothing him, saying, "You're taking it so well. That's it. Let them give you what you need."

The mermaid stops as Lucifer shudders through another orgasm. It flips off of him back into the water. Another is already approaching, one with shining eyes and teeth the size of Sam's fingers.

Sam's eyes slide down Lucifer's body. He's fucked open, but there's no come leaking out of his hole into the surrounding water. Even after the third mermaid fucks him, with Lucifer almost completely out of it by the time it pulls out, nothing leaks.

"How deep inside you are they?" Sam asks. He doesn't expect Lucifer to answer.

"As far as they can be. The eggs need to be secure," Lucifer says. Sam doesn't get to ask a follow-up question before another mermaid starts fucking him. Not after that, either, because the rest of them have finally figured out that Lucifer's a safe body to fuck and don't want to wait to have him. The moment one rolls off, another climbs on. Lucifer goes limp in Sam's arms. The lights go out behind his eyes, replaced with an expression of pure ecstasy, moans pushed out his throat with every thrust. Then comes another, and another, and another. Sam loses count. Lucifer starts to look like he's pregnant already. Eggs, he'd said, and Sam has no idea how big they are, but they're filling him up quickly. The mermaid are being more careful when they fuck him, unwilling to harm the eggs already resting inside.

Until it's over. The last mermaid swims away, leaving with a bump of its forehead against Lucifer's and a splash from its tail. Sam reaches down to feel the eggs Lucifer is carrying. There are so many. They feel squishy, all of them piled on top of dozens of other eggs of varying sizes and shapes.

"Hey," Sam says, "you with me?"

"...over?" Lucifer manages. His voice is weak.

"Yeah, it's over." Lucifer nods.

"...room for more." Lucifer turns his face to nuzzle into Sam's arm.

Sam laughs. "Sure there is. Let's get you up."

He almost forgets to get his gun before they leave.

It's worse than usual somehow. At least before, there was a build-up, days of Lucifer's body changing for Sam to get used to it. The eggs that were fucked into him filled him in only a few hours. Sam can't take his eyes off of Lucifer. There's a saying, that pregnancy comes with a glow that makes someone beautiful, and Sam's not sure how true that is for other people, but Lucifer? Sam's never seen anyone who could get stuffed full of eggs and come out the other side looking prettier.

There's more to it than that, but Sam's able to keep up his denial even as he's jerking off in the shower thinking about Lucifer getting fucked while practically laying in his lap. How many times does he have to bite off Lucifer's name as he comes before he can finally move past insisting that it's only his vessel that Sam finds attractive, not the happily pregnant archangel inside?

That isn’t the kind of love they share. Lucifer’s never… 

Sam just wishes he’d let him buy him some maternity clothes rather than constantly lounging around naked. Angels might not have the same shame around nudity as humans, but Sam’s dick is way too excited about seeing Lucifer sprawled over their motel bed or cuddling up next to him at night.

Sam could have gotten separate beds, but this made more sense. Lucifer steals all the blankets anyway. They should share. 

If Lucifer notices Sam touching his belly more, he doesn’t comment on it. At most, he sighs sleepily and squirms back into Sam’s arms. (Right up against Sam’s dick, usually, which means Sam either has to sit there silently suffering or excuse himself and lose out on cuddling Lucifer for longer.)

He complains more often than he did with the last pregnancies.

“It aches,” he groans. “No matter how I lay, I can’t get comfortable.”

”Sorry to say that we used up all the hot water last bath,” Sam says, apologetically. A long soak had left Lucifer feeling much better last time he began to feel bloated and stretched too thin. Sam had helped him wash. Lucifer was officially the most pampered archangel in existence. He lounged in the bathtub as Sam scrubbed shampoo into his scalp and then rinsed it out with warm water. He’d only gotten out once the water started to cool again, and Sam had wrapped him up in the nicest towel they had on offer and walked him back to bed. 

He slides in beside Lucifer now. He’s curled up on his side, making little miserable noises in the back of his throat. Sam puts a hand on his shoulder and gently rolls him over. 

“How much longer do you think you have until these… come out?” he asks. Lucifer’s belly has swollen slightly bigger than it was when the eggs were laid in him. There are new stretchmarks painted over it. Ones Sam knows will fade from his skin like every other sign of his pregnancy when this is over, leaving only the marks originally there, just like his tits had. (Sam has been waiting for them to reappear, strangely greedy to feel them in his hands again and to help Lucifer when he gets sore, but they don’t. Mermaids don’t nurse their young, apparently.)

”Not long,” Lucifer mutters, in a tone that makes it clear that it is actually too long.

“I could try giving you a massage,” Sam says. 

His dick really likes the idea of rubbing his hands all over Lucifer’s pregnant belly, but Sam is only doing this to help Lucifer. The offer has nothing to do with his own desires (and denial is a river in Egypt.)

He starts at where Lucifer's shoulders meet his neck. It's for both their sakes, to get Lucifer to relax and to let Sam become used to being able to freely touch him. Lucifer's a little cold, he notes. He'll wrap him back up in the blanket he kicked off while trying to get comfortable afterwards. Right now, he presses his thumbs in just above Lucifer's collarbones and then slowly drags them up his neck and down again along his shoulders. Sam's not a professional, so he uses Lucifer's responses to judge what feels good for him. Lucifer exhales in time with Sam's movements, shutting his eyes. Sam reaches his fingers behind Lucifer's shoulders, squeezing them between his back and the mattress. The angle is a little awkward, but Sam perseveres, rewarded with Lucifer's quiet sighs of relief.

He works his way down slowly. His breasts are gone, but Lucifer's chest is still soft. Most of his body is like that, muscle padded under fat. If Sam had to choose a word to describe him, he'd go with comfortable. It'd be an insult in the mouth of a more hardened hunter, even if they didn't know what Lucifer was, but to Sam, it's high praise. Lucifer has made himself at home inside his vessel. Sam might be the only one who understands how hard that is for him. After all, the body isn't Sam's, but Lucifer's been forced to take it as his permanent form anyway. Sam's torn inside between wishing Lucifer had gotten out of the Cage earlier, that he'd been spared all those years of torment without Sam and Sam all the years of deprivation without him, but at the same time, he's happy Lucifer is with them now, when they're settled and well off, not constantly on the road and betting their next meals on a good poker game. They still travel, but Sam has access to money to get them good beds and good food and make sure Lucifer's body stays soft.

He gets the urge to kiss Lucifer. His mouth, his throat, his chest, his belly, anywhere at all. He licks his lips and doesn't cross that line.

Sam can still feel the outlines of the eggs inside Lucifer. They're firmer now. He has to be gentle here. He doesn't want to hurt Lucifer, and to his own surprise, he doesn't want to risk hurting the eggs either. He splays his hands over Lucifer's skin like he did when waiting for a kick with the werewolf puppies. He lightly skims the whole of Lucifer's belly, from the crest of it just under Lucifer's chest to his belly button to the stretch mark lined underside.

There's life growing in there. Under Sam's hands, under Lucifer's skin, deep inside him, there's a clutch of mermaids waiting to be laid.

The thought should horrify Sam. Instead, he feels a sort of awe come over him.

He rests his hands at Lucifer's sides and moves inward. The room is quiet except for the sound of Lucifer breathing and Sam's hands rubbing against his skin and Sam's own heartbeat in his ears. He doesn't press down very hard, making his movements long and firm. He can tell what's too much when Lucifer squirms and what's just the right amount of pressure when he groans happily in the back of his throat. Sam repeats his motions, in from the sides, then up to Lucifer's chest or down towards his legs. The noises Lucifer makes are a little too close to how he sounds right before an orgasm, short and breathy, with his head tipped back against the pillow. Sam swallows. He's been hard since he laid a hand on Lucifer, but he's trying to ignore it.

Maybe Dean's right. Maybe Lucifer is torturing him. That would explain the constant lounging around naked and how he wants Sam to watch him be fucked and how he rolls over whenever Sam offers to take care of him. All of it gets inside Sam's head and makes it difficult to think about anything other than letting his hands drift a little lower to see if Lucifer is wet.

Lucifer spreads his legs and makes a needy sound. It's all over for Sam in that moment. Everything that comes after can't be his fault, not with Lucifer lying there, looking so cozy.

"Do you want me to-" Sam falters as Lucifer's gaze falls on him. "If it would help- Orgasms are natural painkillers, and I wouldn't mind." Lucifer tilts his head. "I really wouldn't mind."

Lucifer smiles the same way sunflowers seek light. "I'd appreciate that," he says. You've known me in far more intimate ways, Sam hears. That makes it easier, doesn't it? That Lucifer sees this the same way he does sharing a bed or being bathed or a massage, not something capable of changing their relationship because they have already experienced each other in a way that goes unrivaled by anything else. Sam doesn't have to worry about Lucifer reading into this, when all it is, Sam insists to himself, is making Lucifer feel better.

So why does some part of him wish Lucifer would?

Sam shakes it off, shifting down the bed. Lucifer makes room for him. Sam has never gotten close like this, only caught glimpses as Lucifer was fucked or averted his eyes before he could take in any details while they stayed in their room together. He doesn't expect his mouth to start watering. He's got a mess of blonde hair covering his pubic bone, trailing down between his labia and his thighs. Unshaven. (If Sam had thought about it for more than a minute, he'd have come to that conclusion without even having to see him because why would Lucifer bother to?) Lucifer's dick is hard, swollen big enough to make itself known from within his folds. They glisten from how wet he'd gotten as Sam touched him. His hole twitches, hungry. The last time it was filled was to take the eggs inside him. (It does feel like more torture. Sam knows now, and he'll have to go on after this trying not to think about any of it. Not about how much he wants to suck Lucifer's cock or bury his nose in the thick hair around it or-)

He has to get a taste of him. Sam has always enjoyed doing this. He can't wait to feel Lucifer pushing against his mouth or to hear the sounds he'll make.

He starts with Lucifer's cock. It looks like it needs the attention. Sam licks it from folds to head, and Lucifer's hips twitch. Sam looks up, used to being able to get feedback from his partner's expressions, but Lucifer's baby bump is blocking the way. That makes it hotter. Sam can't see Lucifer, but he knows what Lucifer looks like when he's enjoying himself already and he knows he'll see it again. Lucifer can't see Sam either, and he has no way to tell what Sam is going to do. Sam licks his lips and bows his head again to roll his tongue against Lucifer's dick. The body and head of it are firm compared to his lips, his folds, all of it puffy with arousal, but his cock demands Sam suck it. Sam purses his lips around it and takes it into his mouth. He lavishes the head with swirls of his tongue as Lucifer whines. He can't squirm as much as some of Sam's past partners, pinned down under his egg-filled belly to take everything Sam wants to give him.

Sam lets his cock pop free from his lips as Lucifer's cries crescendo. There's outrage in the next wordless noise he makes. Sam grins as he licks down through Lucifer's folds, getting a taste of all of him. Lucifer's used to being fucked until he comes and then fucked some more. Sam is going to make him wait. At least for a little while so that Sam can enjoy himself.

Lucifer is soaked by the time Sam's tongue probes his hole. It grips around the smallest intrusion, needing to be filled. Sam strokes Lucifer's thigh, lapping over the hole but never sinking in deeper. Torture can go both ways. Besides, Lucifer tastes good. Sam wants to savor him. A new rush of slick pours out over his tongue in response to his teasing, and Sam lets it coat his palate. Lucifer spills over his lips, dripping down his chin. Sam lifts his hand to hover two fingers over Lucifer's dick. He finds the right way to hold him and strokes it gently. Sam presses his tongue into Lucifer's hole. Inside, there's more wetness, more heat, muscles clenching, both happy to be filled and unsatisfied by Sam's tongue alone. He makes up for it by twisting his tongue inside Lucifer, seeking where he makes the most noise. His ears are filled with pleasure-filled panting and his name occasionally melting into a moan.

Sam licks the wetness out of him, but Lucifer makes more. Sam's chin is sticky where it dries. His lips mouth at Lucifer's hole like a kiss. In lieu of being able to thrust or pull away, Lucifer kicks and tenses. His dick pulses between Sam's fingers, and Sam gives Lucifer's hole one last perusal with his tongue before pulling back. He lets go of Lucifer's dick, sliding his fingers down through his folds to his hole. Sam wets them with his own spit and Lucifer's arousal before he goes back up to suck Lucifer's cock between his lips again. Lucifer keens, and he welcomes Sam's fingers, parting easy for them so that Sam can rub them along his inner walls and crook his fingers up. The reaction isn't as good as he expects, so he shifts his attention. A little bit to the left, a little further in, and there's an area that makes Lucifer moan loudly.

They had better get noise complaints. Sam's earning them.

"If you stop again-" Lucifer says, too breathless to be a threat. Sam can't help himself. He stops rocking his fingers inside Lucifer, lets go of his dick.

"You'll what?" Sam asks. Lucifer whines.

"Sam!" Sam licks his cock again and pushes against that sensitive spot he's found inside him. His hand is going to smell like Lucifer for hours, even if he tries to wash it off. Lucifer's thrusting up against him, close enough that he's tight around Sam's fingers, trying to keep them deep inside. His cock throbs in Sam's mouth suddenly, and Lucifer's whole body tenses up. When Sam sucks, he tries to twitch away, and so Sam lets his oversensitive dick slide out from between his lips. He keeps his fingers where they are until after Lucifer's stopped coming, until his breathing has evened out again. He squeezes them one last time, an aftershock of his orgasm or conscious desire, and Sam takes that as his signal to pull them out. He licks them clean as he sits up to check on Lucifer.

"That does feel better," Lucifer says. His eyes are shut again. His face is slack in the aftermath of pleasure. Sam puts a hand on his belly and strokes it lightly.

He gets the urge to kiss Lucifer again, and this time...

What the hell. He just made him come his brains out. What's a kiss compared to that?

Sam leans over and kisses the curve of Lucifer's baby bump. Three soft smooches, all in a row, and when he pulls back, he finds that Lucifer is staring at him.

He doesn't look upset.

Sam does it again, three times on the opposite side.

Lucifer has to return to the water to lay the eggs. It's late at night. Sam guides him with one hand around Lucifer and the other holding a waterproof flashlight to see where they're going. He doesn't spare a thought to the gun he left back in the car. Lucifer moves slowly, relying on Sam to help him keep his balance. There's obvious strain on his face, but he doesn't ask for a break. By the time they've gotten to the water, he's breathing heavily. The deeper they wade, the easier it gets. The cool water sloshes up around their thighs, soaking into Sam's jeans. Lucifer didn't bother with clothes. He lets out a sigh of relief as he sinks to his knees in the water, and it lessens the weight of his belly. Sam goes with him, rubbing a hand up and down Lucifer's spine. He's not scared the process will hurt Lucifer, it never does, but it does leave him completely exhausted afterwards.

Lucifer is catching his breath as Sam looks out over the deeper waters. He doesn't see anything at first, but Lucifer returning to the waves must have alerted them because the mermaids return for their eggs. They streak silently through the water, half-hidden in the dark. The only way Sam knows they're there is by watching the bio-luminescent glows of their bodies, spots and stripes the flow into each other with the speed they're swimming at. He shines the flashlight towards them, and they dart off, one head poked out of the water hissing in surprise and ducking under the surface again. Sam turns the light away.

Lucifer braces himself back against Sam. Their bodies press together, separated only by Sam's wet clothes. He puts a hand on Lucifer's belly to soothe him. Lucifer tips his head back onto Sam's shoulder. He sucks in a breath and lets it out slow. Sam feels his muscles flexing, pushing. Sam reaches down to help keep his thighs spread wide.

"You got them in there," Sam says, "you can push them back out."

"They got bigger," Lucifer complains. He groans. It's frustration, not pain.

The mermaids circle closer. They have no concept of personal space, poking their faces and hands in to check on Lucifer and their eggs. One of them bumps into Sam's back. He freezes up, ready for it to strike, but instead, it trills happily and splashes him. There's a dark green one situated between Lucifer's thighs, watching as he struggles. Its hands come up to massage his pelvis, and its tail pulses with a bright light. Lucifer groans again, but it tapers off into relief as the first cluster of eggs crests at his hole and then spills out into the water. The mermaid cups its hands around them and passes them off to its brethren.

Around them, the mermaids shine and sing with joy. Lucifer's breath hitches.

"You okay?" Sam whispers to him. Lucifer turns to hide his face against Sam's neck, and Sam's sure he's not imagining the tears he feels smear against his skin.

"It's nothing," Lucifer says. "It's nothing. I'm fine."

Lucifer is lying, and Sam's heart aches.

"You're doing good," he says. "You kept their eggs safe, and you're going to lay all of them without any trouble. You took such good care of them. This is the easy part, remember? Just breathe and push." Lucifer soaks up his words. Sam means each and every one of them. "They're going to be beautiful, Lucifer. You're a good mother."

Lucifer grunts, muffled against Sam's neck, as he pushes out another cluster of eggs. They're passed away into the hands of other mermaids quickly to make room for his next batch. Sam rubs his belly.

"Keep going," he encourages. "There's a whole lot left."

As Lucifer labors on, Sam's hand drifts down. He touches the gaping rim of Lucifer's hole and slides his fingers up to his cock. It's hard, like Sam expected. All those eggs stretching him wide open and rolling down through him against every sensitive nerve has him teetering on the edge of an orgasm. Sam circles the head of his cock with his thumb. Lucifer gasps, pushing the eggs out. Another clutch falls from him, and as it slides out, he comes under Sam's hand. "That's it," Sam murmurs. "Keep going. Plenty more where those came from."

Sam gets to feel Lucifer's belly shrink under his hand. He plays with Lucifer's cock as the eggs come quicker and easier. Lucifer is loose and relaxed, stuck on an orgasm that doesn't seem to end as he lays his eggs. Sam kisses the corner of his mouth because he can and it's there.

When the last eggs finally float into the water and the mermaid midwife's hands, Lucifer slumps in Sam's hold. Sam lets him come down from the high of pleasure, rubbing his stomach instead. There's no more eggs inside him, just the paunch at his abdomen that was there before he was bred. The mermaids begin to disperse, the eggs safely held in their hands. Lucifer hears them swimming away, and he raises his head. "Wait," he whispers, softly, "wait, let me see them." The mermaids either ignore him or can't hear him below the water. "Don't take them, let me see them," he begs. "Let me hold one, please." More of them leave, and there's nothing Sam or Lucifer can do to stop them. Lucifer chokes out a sob, vulnerable in the aftermath of the birth. "Don't leave, don't-" The waters around them are silent now. The eggs are gone. Lucifer cries.

"I'm sorry," Sam starts to say. He knows it isn't enough, but it's all he can offer.

Something bumps into his back again with a curious trill. Sam twists his head to look at it. The mermaid who ran into him before is still with them. It flares its soft blue fins and swims around the two of them. It offers the eggs that were given to it up to Lucifer.

Lucifer holds them like they're the most precious thing in the world. The flashlight's beam is pointing away from them, but if Sam squints, he can see tiny bodies curled inside them. Their eyes are huge.

Lucifer presses a kiss to their eggshells. Sam's hair stands on end. If he didn't know better, he'd think Lucifer was using his grace, but he can't be. He doesn't have enough power in him to do anything. Lucifer lowers them back into the water and the waiting hands of the mermaid.

"Thank you," he tells it. It trills one final time before it swims away.

Sam used to wake up with a jolt. Even after they moved into the Bunker and he should have felt safe, he'd sit up in the middle of the night because he heard a door creak down the hallway or something fall off his nightstand.

Lately, that hasn't been as much of a problem.

Sam's awake enough to hear when his door opens and closes, shut carefully behind the person who comes in. He rolls over onto his back and half-opens his eyes. Sam has a small light near his bed, not bright enough to really see anything but enough that he doesn't feel like he's sleeping enclosed in a stone tomb. Dean ribs Sam about needing a nightlight, and Sam takes it because he knows Dean's solution is keeping a flashlight under his pillow right next to his knife. Sam peers out at his room. In the darkness, he can see his guest lingering by his door. They look up. For a second, Lucifer's eyes are brighter than they should be, reflecting the dim light unnaturally, and then, just as quickly, it’s gone. He crosses the room, and without needing to ask permission, gets under the covers with Sam. Sam turns onto his side towards him. He's used to this, and he reaches an arm out to wrap around Lucifer.

"The Cage?" Sam asks. It's always his first guess. The next is Michael. The last is himself.

Lucifer presses close to him. He'd spend all his time attached to Sam at the hip if Sam let him. He doesn't answer for a minute. Sam can feel him breathing. He lets the rhythm of it begin to carry him back to sleep. Air gently brushes back and forth over his skin.

"I didn't dream of anything," Lucifer admits, "but I missed you." Sam frowns like he has any right to be surprised when he spends most of his nightly routine with Lucifer at the back of his mind, waiting to bump elbows with him as Sam brushes his teeth or to see him getting comfy in the bed as Sam undresses himself. Their secret life is beginning to spill over into Sam's everyday.

Lucifer is here now. Sam didn't even need to help him get knocked up this time.

He’s chilly, too. His feet press against Sam's calves, and Sam grunts annoyance but wraps his leg around Lucifer anyway to warm him back up.

"I missed you, too,” he admits. "You're sure you don't want to talk about anything else?"

Lucifer's response to that is to shove his face completely up against Sam's chest and refuse to meet his eyes. There's the emotional intelligence of a being older than dirt. Sam sighs.

"Please?"

"I'm fine, Sam," comes muffled from where Lucifer is hiding from this conversation.

"Is that why you promised not to lie to me? Because you're so bad at it?" Sam says. Lucifer huffs and vindictively curls his leg so that his cold feet are shoved into the backs of Sam's knees. Sam makes an embarrassing noise and ends up kneeing Lucifer in the groin which, while completely his own fault, is at least not as painful for him as it could be. It still makes him wince and glare at Sam, but that's better than him avoiding Sam's gaze. He takes a long breath as they reshuffle their legs to be more comfortable and when they're settled again, he speaks.

"I wish I had more time with them." Sam wishes he could see Lucifer's face better, rather than the soft impression he can sort out from the shadows. "Do you think they feel abandoned?" Sam picks his words carefully. Lucifer is rarely fragile, and Sam has shattered him before.

"No," he says, "not at all. You made sure they would be raised by things that loved them. Those eggs have probably hatched by now, and there's dozens of babies of with fish tails being taught how to swim by other mermaids. You wanted to take the puppies back to the werewolf, and... The gargoyles were chewing on the walls to get out on their own. You took care of them when they needed you. That's not abandonment."

Lucifer considers this. Sam adjusts his arm so that he can rub Lucifer's back as he thinks.

“For once, I've been allowed to create something, and I haven't ruined it,” Lucifer finally whispers, his voice raw from a thousand years of telling himself he can only be one thing, only ever make his mark through destruction, and suddenly realizing that doesn’t have to be true anymore.  “I’ve surpassed my Father,” he finishes, “because if my children ever need me, I won’t ignore them. I won’t let them be hurt.”

"Neither would I," Sam says, and he's no longer surprised that he means it.

"I know." Lucifer hesitates. "They're our children?"

"Yeah. Ours." They are Lucifer's first, but Sam feels warmth blossom in his chest at being included. He knows why he rejected it the first time, but he was wrong. "We could always go visit."

"If you think that's safe."

"Of course I'd make sure it was safe." It strikes Sam after he says it who he would be keeping them safe from. Other hunters. People like him. Dean. It's jarring, but maybe not as jarring as sharing a bed with the devil and knowing that he snores.

"We should, then." Lucifer mumbles, sleepily. "Not soon, though. There's something we have to do."

"Again? You just laid those eggs!" Lucifer chuckles. "Do you at least know what it is?"

"A surprise."

"Lucifer."

"Fine. A shapeshifter." Sam wrinkles his nose, remembering various points in the past he's had to poke at fleshy piles and try not to puke. Lucifer, on the other hand, seems content with this. Sam shakes his head, but he's already planning. Lucifer falls asleep first. Sam stays awake a little while longer. As soon as he falls asleep, it'll be morning again, and he'll have to nudge Lucifer awake and kick him back out to his own room so that no one gets suspicious. Sam fights it as long as he can, but it wins eventually.

It keeps going.

Every few weeks, Lucifer gets a look in his eyes, a need that must be filled, and every time, Sam responds quicker and quicker. His excuses to Dean are numerous, sight-seeing, hunting, teaching Lucifer how to fish. Dean gets grouchy about it, snappier at Lucifer and clingier with Sam, as though he thinks he's being replaced. Maybe Sam does spend a lot of time with Lucifer in the passenger seat rather than Dean in the driver's, but it hasn't overtaken his time with his brother. Even if Sam feels less and less like hunting nowadays.

Lucifer gets what he wants, and what he wants is to get laid in every state by every manner of monster, all while Sam watches.

They get to fuck Lucifer, but Sam gets him in the aftermath when he's tired but radiant, touching his stomach and happily telling Sam exactly how well it went. Sam gets to suck his dick until he comes, just to make sure the pregnancy takes, and to clean him up afterwards. Sam gets to feel the babies kick and to massage Lucifer when he's sore and to help with his milk with the pump that finally came in (or more often, with his hands, rubbing and pinching until Lucifer gets some relief.) He gets to help Lucifer through labor or through laying, depending on what creature he let fuck him full last.

There's always more out there that need Lucifer. A shapeshifter living alone and out of the way who just wants a kid. A dragon that Sam gets to see the full huge form of. A nymph with buglike eyes and wings that crawls out of a tree to have her way with Lucifer.

Sam makes sure Lucifer will have time with all of their children before they have to leave them. He knows what it's like to be afraid of becoming his father, and for Lucifer? That's a hell of a lot scarier. His fears are assuaged by getting to hold their babies or to check the eggs over once they're laid for any signs of damage.

Sam watches how loving he is with each and every one.

New desire takes root. Sam tries to ignore it.

"What's in Michigan?" Dean asks, interrupting the two of them as they plan. Sam didn’t hear him enter the library, and he quickly backtracks through his conversation with Lucifer to see if they’d said anything incriminating. Nothing that he can remember. They have to be more careful. It was hard to remember that when Lucifer had strolled in, that familiar glint in his eyes, and sprawled himself over a chair next to Sam. His legs ended up over Sam’s lap. Sam had absently started rubbing his ankles as they talked, more habit than anything. 

He pushes Lucifer's legs to the floor. Lucifer’s mouth pinches, but he doesn’t say anything. Sam makes a show of looking at him like he’s annoyed.

His other hand suddenly has nothing to do, derailing Sam’s focus completely. "You know," he says, shrugging, "Great Lakes, maybe we’ll pick up a hunt. We haven’t planned that far ahead." Dean nods.

”I’ll start packing.” Sam’s guilt scrapes against his rib cage like nails on a chalkboard, and he winces. 

“Actually, it was, uh. It was going to be just us.” Dean’s eyes narrow, but they don’t linger on Sam, turning on Lucifer instead. Lucifer weathers it well, used to Dean’s suspicions. 

“You said you were going on a hunt,” Dean starts.

"We said, ‘maybe, we’ll-“ 

“And you want him as your backup? His battery is drained, and… does he even know how to shoot?” Lucifer’s mouth tilts. There’s something a little too close to mischief there for Sam to be comfortable.

”The drained battery does know how to shoot. You could ask him. He’s right here.” Dean makes a face at Lucifer. Sam catches his eyes and shakes his head once, a quick message to not antagonize Dean.

”How well?”

”What?”

”How good’s your aim?” Dean interrogates. “With what guns? You know your lore well enough to know what to kill with what?”

”Why do you care?” Lucifer snaps, irritation bleeding over. 

“Because if you’re the only thing keeping Sam safe out there, you better be bringing your A game. If he so much as gets a bruise, I will personally skin you alive.” Sam winces. Lucifer tilts his head, eyes flickering across Dean’s face before he seems to come to a conclusion. When he speaks again, his voice is softer, no longer on the verge of biting Dean back.

”You know there’s only one thing we agree on,” Lucifer says, “and that’s how much we love him. I would never let him get hurt.”

The word love makes Dean do a double take. He recovers quickly, but a lot of the poison has drained out of his words. What’s left is still painful to digest.

”You already did.” Sam doesn’t feel like his brother should be allowed to hold a grudge in his place for something that Sam doesn’t for the same reason Lucifer doesn’t. They had a lot of time in the Cage to come to terms with how they had hurt each other. Dean didn’t have that luxury. He looked at Lucifer and still saw the angel who wore his brother to the Apocalypse. 

For a brief moment, Sam imagines him seeing Lucifer in his new element, pregnant and buried in his blanket nest or cradling a newborn baby that maybe had more eyes or legs than most. 

He wishes Dean could see that and understand, but if he didn't, it would be disastrous.

Maybe one day, Sam will find a way to break the news to him gently. More likely, he’s starting to realize, he never will on his own, and either Dean will live on unaware and annoyed at Lucifer for monopolizing Sam’s time, or he’ll find out and everything will fall apart. Story of Sam’s life, really. He’ll take whatever little time he might have.

”I can’t-“ Lucifer begins, but his words cut off suddenly. His head turns a second before Sam even feels the drop in pressure that heralds an angel, way too soon for Castiel to be there. Lucifer’s staring at him when he arrives while Sam and Dean are just looking over.

The silence is palpable.

Cas looks uncomfortable.

”Hey, Cas, you’re just in time for the family meeting,” Dean says. Cas frowns. 

“I wasn’t invited?”

”It’s informal.” Dean gestures at Lucifer. “Putting him through the ringer if he thinks he’s good enough to be Sam’s new hunting partner.” 

“He’s not my new anything. It’s one hunt,” Sam protests.

”Or a dozen in the past few months,” Dean says. Sam presses his lips thin and tries to think of another excuse. Nothing comes.

”Shouldn’t that help his case? I’m not dead.”

”Yet.”

“If you’re so concerned, you have a shooting range. Test me.” Lucifer offered Dean an olive branch and got his hand slapped for it, so now he’s even more sharp with him. 

“Sure, you hit bullseyes, and I’ll even give you Sam’s hand in marriage.”

”Are you done?” Castiel asks, loudly. Dean and Lucifer both turn to frown at him. The look on Lucifer’s face is extremely familiar to Sam, and the funniest part is that he knows it from seeing Dean make it. It’s the ‘who does my little brother think he is’ face. Sam suppresses a huff of laughter, sure that bringing the attention back to himself won’t make anything better.

”Yeah, sure. For now,” Dean concedes. He points at Lucifer. “You. Target practice, later.” Lucifer makes a face but doesn’t argue. 

“Finally,” Cas says. “Dean, I need to talk to you.” 

Castiel gives Lucifer a long, hard look before the two of them leave the room. He doesn't say anything, but Sam feels uneasy.

Sam isn't there during 'target practice.' He's only privy to the aftermath, where Lucifer looks smugly pleased with himself and Dean begrudgingly lets them go.

"You're a terrible shot," Sam says once they're on the road again, "so what the hell did you do to convince him?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lucifer answers. "Ask your brother. I passed his test."

"You can't even hold a gun right." Sam knows because Sam was the one charged with teaching him. Lucifer's quick with a blade and a challenge in hand-to-hand, but his depth perception is terrible. He says he's not used to using limited human vision. Sam's pretty sure he needs glasses.

"What matters is that Dean believes I can protect you," Lucifer says, with an air of finality that Sam ignores.

"But why does he believe that?" Lucifer watches the passing trees with far too much interest. Sam's stomach turns over. "Lucifer, what did you do?"

"Barely anything."

"You need to be a lot clearer right now," Sam demands.

"I didn't hurt him." It isn't enough, and Lucifer knows that. "Sam, I don't have enough grace to... change your brother. I made him see things differently than they actually were. That's all."

"I didn't know you even had enough grace for that," Sam says.

"I've been healing. I give life to our children, and their souls feed a little power back into my grace." Lucifer faces him. "It's not much, Sam. I'm nothing like I was, and I don't know if I ever will be again."

"You should have told me." It isn't like Sam has a leg to stand on, lying to Dean as often as he has been, but the idea that Lucifer doesn't trust him hurts.

He's surprised when Lucifer chuckles.

"Would you believe me if I said I wanted to impress you?" he says. "Wait until I felt a connection to my wings again and make a show of it."

"You don't have to peacock for me."

"All I have is my pride," Lucifer says. Sam smiles, looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

"I think you have more than that now." If he didn't need to keep his hands on the wheel, he'd reach for Lucifer's. "You shouldn't mess with Dean's head, though."

"What did you want me to do? He would have stopped us." Sam sighs.

"Don't mess with Dean's head again. He's my brother. I'll handle him," he says. "He's... difficult, and you're already hard for him to wrap his head around. This- It complicates things."

"Because he would try to hurt our children," Lucifer says, bluntly. "I wouldn't let him, Sam."

"...I don't think he'd kill them," Sam says and Lucifer has to hear the uncertainty. Sam knows exactly what he's thinking because Sam is thinking it, too: being unsure that Dean might not do that isn't enough, not for their children. They have to be certain, and until Sam knows a way to introduce his brother that will protect them, he won't put them or Lucifer at risk.

(With Lucifer's growing grace, Dean's trigger-happy nature about monsters might put himself in danger, too. Sam can't be asked to choose between them. Lucifer understands that, but that means he might make the choice himself. With deadly consequences.)

"Trust me to take care of it," Sam asks Lucifer.

Lucifer is quiet.

"Trust me," Sam pleads.

"Yes," Lucifer agrees, and Sam won't let him down.

In Michigan, there's not just one monster waiting. There's two. A mated pair of female nagas who welcome Lucifer with open arms.

"He's lovely," the golden naga tells Sam as her mate gets Lucifer comfortable to begin the process. The lower halves of their bodies are thick as tree trunks before they begin to taper off into their tails, giving Lucifer ample space to lay back against a coil. "Thank you for letting us use him. We've wanted children for a very long time. He's... a miracle, in a way." Sam has no idea how he's supposed to make small talk with her. A few months ago, he would have killed her, not had a chat, and part of him still feels the need to reach for a weapon when he catches a glimpse of her fangs as she speaks. "How long do you think they'll take?" she asks eagerly.

"That... depends. You do lay eggs?" Sam glances over at Lucifer to see one of the dark green naga's cock slide deep inside him. There are two of them, short but thick and ringed with fleshy spikes. They slide out from her vent near the end of her tail, letting her precisely maneuver both of them to fuck him. The one inside Lucifer bottoms out, but the other rubs up through his folds and against his cock. He arches his back. The other naga's tongue flickers out as she bows over Lucifer, tickling his face. In response, Lucifer sticks his own tongue out. The forked ends are a joke that he makes himself laugh with, and now, there's solidarity between serpents as the other naga chuckles, too, her scales rustling as she keeps thrusting inside him. Lucifer's mouth opens around a gasp.

"Yes," answers the gold naga, unaffected by the scene where Sam is feeling his dick harden every time Lucifer moans. She says something, a series of sharp hisses that Sam can't possibly hope to replicate, before continuing, "-wants to lay the eggs, and then I will fertilize them." She lowers her voice. "She can't carry her own. It would be dangerous for her. She's been ashamed of it for a long time." Her words are a glimpse into a long life that Sam has never imagined creatures like her having before he and Lucifer began doing this. The golden naga's worry for her partner is so human.

"We've never dealt with anything like you two, but we've laid eggs before. It should only take a few days." The golden naga flicks her tongue, head tilting curiously when Sam says we.

"You must love him a lot," she says. Sam's eyes are on Lucifer again. His shirt isn't going to fit over those eggs once they're inside him, but Sam has the blanket he usually wraps him in after he gets fucked. He'll make sure Lucifer is comfortable and warm before they even get back to the motel. Sam's already plotting out his steps from there, what care Lucifer needs and how Sam can get it to him. There's a halfway decent bathroom attached to their room. A hot bath would help him adjust.

"I do," Sam admits.

The green naga wraps the thick end of her tail around Lucifer's chest to keep him still. He keeps getting pushed up with every thrust. There's enough power behind each shove that it must ache a little to have her bury them so deep inside him. One of Lucifer's arms is pinned by the coil around his chest, but the other slips out and grips the scaly muscle tight. Sam watches Lucifer's legs try to hook around the end of her tail and drag her cocks in. His heels slip against her scales. She laughs again and kisses his temple, hissing with joy. Lucifer manages it as he comes, bracing his legs against her tail. A wave of movement rolls up through her coils, a pleased moan escaping her throat as Lucifer's hole squeezes around her cock. She begins to lay her eggs inside him, petting his stomach as they find their new home. Lucifer's eyes roll back into his head as the push of the eggs stretches his orgasm out, unending sensation as another and another and another come to fill him. Before long, Sam can see the beginning lump in his belly that shows how many he's taken. The naga pulls out, finished.

Sam's first thought is that Lucifer could take so many more. His second is that he wants to see Lucifer stuffed with more. It nearly knocks the breath out of him to admit to himself.

Seeing the naga push her other cock inside Lucifer makes him suck in a breath and resist the urge to touch himself. The golden naga laughs, too.

"You must be eager to take him home," she says, "but you'll have to wait until after I'm done with him, yes?" Sam's cheeks burn.

Lucifer groans as more eggs begin to fill him. His stomach rounds out full of them in such a beautiful way. Sam wishes he was close enough to touch, but the other naga is right. He'll be allowed to later. Lucifer will let him massage his belly and feel out every inch of his changed body. All it'll do is make Sam want him more.

“We’ll build him a very comfortable nest to lay our eggs in,” the gold naga says. Sam can give Lucifer one thing he knows he wants in the meantime.

”You don’t mind if we stick around until they hatch? He’ll want to meet them.” She smiles at him toothily (though Sam’s not sure she can smile any other way.) 

“You’re welcome to," she says. "It's the least you could ask. I'd give you the world for making her this happy." She nods at her partner, who is bowed over Lucifer again, her tongue flicking against his egg-filled stomach as her hands also explore it. Lucifer is catching his breath, his grip on the coil around his chest loosening. Sam goes to him without thinking twice. Lucifer looks up at him, making an effort to focus his eyes on Sam.

"How are you doing?" Sam asks, touching his shoulder gently and after a moment, giving in to his desire to stroke Lucifer’s hair. Lucifer tilts his head into Sam's touch.

"Very well." He exhales, and then peers up at Sam, smiling. "How do I look?"

Gorgeous. Sexy. Perfect. Sam swallows. "Like you're full of eggs, how do you think?" Lucifer chuckles.

”If I look as good as I feel, then…” he trails off, words catching on a gasp and then melting into a bigger smile. 

“You’re ready for the next part?” Lucifer rarely needs a break between breeding, but Sam can to step in if so. He thinks these two would be understanding. His worries are unfounded, though. At just the mention of continuing, of getting filled up with come and the eggs inside him fertilized, Lucifer’s eyes light up. Now that he knows Lucifer’s grace is coming back, the shine behind them takes on a different meaning.

“Please,” he says. Sam hears the golden naga approach, turning his head to see her press against her mate and exchange a kiss with her. Sam feels jealous. He shoves it down in order to help Lucifer. The green naga doesn’t move, allowing him to stay laid out over her coil, but the one on his chest slides off as she withdraws her cock. Lucifer’s legs press together to try and alleviate the sudden emptiness. The gold naga lays her hands on them and parts them again. She lifts the tip of her tail, waving it lazily as her cocks unsheathe from her vent. They’re a little smaller than her partner’s (though small by naga standards is still out of human range.)

“May I touch him?” she asks Sam. He nods. She dips a hand between Lucifer’s folds, seeking his hole. He easily takes four of her fingers, and without much more trouble, she tucks her thumb against them and slides her entire hand up inside him. Lucifer groans in satisfaction as he’s filled again. She drags the wide part of her hand against his rim many times until when she withdraws it again, his hole gapes even wider. Sam understands why when she takes her cocks in hand and presses them together.

Lucifer spreads his legs, watching her hungrily. 

She feeds him her cocks slowly, making sure that the stretch isn’t painful. Sam’s not sure it could be. He’s seen Lucifer take bigger (and smaller, and weirder-shaped) and none of them seem to hurt him. His body adjusts. It takes everything and drains what it needs and gets itself pregnant. If this blessing fell on someone who wasn’t Lucifer, it would probably be a nightmare, but it’s his and Lucifer enjoys every part of it.

”Oh,” she murmurs from above Lucifer as Sam soothes him, “he feels good.”

”Doesn’t he?” her mate agrees.

”The perfect little breeder,” she says. “You’ll give us so many hatchlings, won’t you?”

”All of them,” Lucifer promises, "every egg.” The golden naga looks surprised but far from upset. 

“You can?” Lucifer nods. She moves her tail to fuck him harder. “I better fill you then, pretty breeder.” 

“He feels like us, too,” her mate murmurs, her face pressed against the golden naga’s shoulder. “Did you notice? So cool and tight.” 

“I think I have,” the golden one responds, delighted and breathy as her climax approaches. Lucifer can tell she’s close. He rolls his hips into the cocks. Sam can’t tear his eyes away from where they stretch him open. She buries herself in as deep as her partner had, but this time, she pumps come into Lucifer, thick and fertile. He relaxes again, purpose served. There’s a lot of it, rounding Lucifer’s belly out a little more. 

She pulls back slightly, not enough to slip out, and grunts. From the way Lucifer tenses up, Sam thinks she’s coming again. She pulls out of him. Her come doesn’t spill from his loose hole.

”Ha, sorry about that,” she says, gently caressing the eggs through his skin. “I have to make sure you get bred.” Sam frowns at her, but she shakes her head. “It’s alright. We wouldn’t hurt your pretty mate, especially not with our children inside him. It’s only a plug to keep him full. It should dissolve in a few hours.” They’ve dealt with weirder. 

Lucifer needs some time to recover before they head out. The snakes curl around the two of them, protective of their future children and the ones bringing them into the world. They talk to each other in a series of hisses and clicks, tails waving to emphasize certain points. Sam didn’t even know nagas had their own language. 

It turns out there’s a lot he doesn’t know about the creatures he’s killed for decades.

He rubs Lucifer’s belly for him as he waits. The initial strain is always the worst with eggs, but if Sam helps him out now, it’ll ache less in the coming days. He’s still hard, and no matter how hard he bites the inside of his cheek and wills it down, all it needs is another glimpse at Lucifer’s pregnant body to shoot straight back up.

The plug keeps Lucifer from leaking for longer than a few hours. It lasts through Sam getting him into their room and helping set up his pillow nest (easy for Lucifer during a normal pregnancy, but with eggs, when he’s filled to the brim and finding it hard to move from the get-go? Sam can do it for him. He’s gotten pretty good at it, too.) and a hot bath where Sam washes the dirt and sweat off of him. It lasts until Sam is drying him off afterwards. He runs the towel up Lucifer’s legs and gently over his belly. When he gets to Lucifer’s chest, he winces.

”Careful,” Lucifer says, “that’s tender.” Sam’s heart skips a beat. He reaches a hand out and cups Lucifer’s chest. Sure enough, there’s a familiar swell. They’re not noticeable except by touch and only because Sam knows Lucifer’s body so well by now. He runs his thumb over the nipple, and Lucifer makes a slightly pained noise.

”Sorry,” Sam breathes, but he doesn’t withdraw his hand. He always brings the pump with them in case this happens. Usually, with eggs, it doesn’t, but nagas are only half snake and must nurse their young with the other half. 

Sam is incredibly glad they do.

"Sam-" Lucifer says, on edge. Sam stops touching him, worried he's crossed a line.

"What?"

"It's-" Lucifer squeezes his thighs together. Sam can't see between his legs. His belly is in the way. "The plug. I think it's-" Lucifer makes a noise, and Sam can see as a long rope of come drips all the way down his leg to the floor. "Dissolving," he finishes, voice tight.

"Alright, uh." Sam takes him by the shoulders and moves him towards the wall of the bathroom. "Brace yourself there." Lucifer nods as Sam kneels in front of him, taking the towel he dried Lucifer with in his hands again. Lucifer's thighs are clenched together tightly, but it isn't helping him much. Come dribbles down his legs, still wet from being kept safe inside him. It's done its job. All the eggs inside him are fertilized. Lucifer kept track. "Spread your legs." Lucifer grimaces. Reluctantly, he opens them.

The moment he stops trying to hold it in, come spills out of his hole. Sam picks up the towel and begins wiping it away. It's an exercise in futility. Lucifer grunts in the back of his throat as his hole twitches around the loads he was filled with. Sam is transfixed by how much there is. He can see how swollen Lucifer is with eggs, feel it under his hands, but watching the come stain the towel is something else.

Lucifer's cock twitches. Sam licks his lips.

"Sam," Lucifer murmurs.

It doesn't mean anything. Sam loves him, and Sam makes him come whenever he wants, and Sam thinks of all his children as theirs, and-

Oh.

"Sam," Lucifer begs, now, tilting his hips to give Sam better access.

"I think I need to fuck you," Sam answers. Lucifer is looking at him over the curve of his belly, and he searches Sam's face. He smiles, head falling back to bump the wall.

"Finally," he breathes. Months, Sam remembers, of him letting Sam watch him get fucked and lounging around him naked and inviting Sam to touch him. Sam is an idiot. If it was anyone but Lucifer...

But it could never have been anyone but Lucifer.

Sam slides a hand up his thigh to where his hole is still clenching around nothing but come. Lucifer takes three fingers and still feels loose, gaped open by naga cocks and eggs. Sam's dick swells as he fucks his three fingers in. He pushes in a fourth. Lucifer takes it, huffing breaths that almost sound like more, more. Sam could probably fit his fist inside Lucifer.

Lucifer shifts his stance, leaning harder against the wall. Sam looks up at his face. He's panting in pleasure, but there's a strained wrinkle on his brow.

"You need to sit down?" Lucifer shakes his head.

"No, we've waited too long." Sam strokes his belly. It calms him down.

"And we're not going anywhere." Sam kisses him, a semi-circle around his popped belly button. "We don't want to hurt our babies." Lucifer makes a strangled noise, staring down at Sam with too wide eyes. "You've got a comfy nest to lay in. We should use it."

"There'll be a mess," Lucifer protests, weakly. Sam kisses him again.

"I'll clean it up." Sam gets to his feet and offers Lucifer his help to walk back to their bed.

They end up on their sides, Lucifer’s back to Sam’s front. (Sam was too worried about jostling the eggs with Lucifer on top or on his back, and he started making quiet pain noises when he’d gotten on his hands and knees.) Sam can touch whenever he wants like this and easily keep Lucifer from squirming away by tangling their legs together. He takes full advantage, brushing his hand up and down Lucifer’s belly.

”How does it feel?” As though he can’t tell from the way Lucifer’s breath is coming quick and strained, but Sam wants to hear him say it. His cock is rubbing up against the backs of Lucifer’s thighs. Sam’s burning up inside, all pent up arousal, and Lucifer’s skin is cool against his. He presses his face into the crook of Lucifer’s neck to enjoy it, mouth opening for a lazy kiss against his pulse.

”Satisfying,” Lucifer hisses, sounding like the snakes he’s acting as a surrogate for.

”Really?” It’s not the choice of word Sam expected. Lucifer grinds back against him. The head of Sam’s cock pushes between his thighs. It’s a smoother glide than Sam expects, and then he remembers exactly why. Lucifer is still leaking come. Sam thrusts, muffling a groan against Lucifer’s neck.

”You told me I was a good mother?” Lucifer’s voice tilts higher at the end, uncertain, and Sam’s not sure if it’s whether he doesn’t believe he is or if he doesn’t think Sam will give him that praise again. Either way, Sam will prove him wrong.

”You are,” he tells Lucifer. He laces their hands over Lucifer’s belly, feeling the eggs shifting inside him. Sam thrusts slower this time. “Feel how well they’re growing? That’s all you.” Sam leans up to kiss his jaw. “You’re a good momma.” Sam’s hand slides up from Lucifer’s belly as Lucifer’s stays. Sam cups his slowly growing chest. “A good father,” he reassures.

Lucifer must still be tender. He arches his back, pressing into Sam, and grunts at the back of his throat. Sam touches his nipple lightly. “You're making milk for you babies?” he asks, and Lucifer nods. “You have no idea how hot that is.”

Sam gives Lucifer a reprieve from torturing his oversensitive chest to reach down and lift his leg. His thighs are pure bliss pressed right around Sam’s cock, but Sam needs to know what his gaping, messy hole feels like. He braces Lucifer’s leg back against his hip. Sam takes his cock in hand and guides it into Lucifer. Sam has to bite his own lip hard.

His first thought is wet. Lucifer is soaked with his own arousal and dripping with come. Sam’s cock sinks in so easily. Sam isn’t prone to bragging, but he knows he’s a big guy and his cock follows suit. For Lucifer to take all of him in one smooth thrust is overwhelming. Sam pulls out a few inches before pushing back in, just as easy as the first time. He’s like the nagas said, cool on the inside, too. Sam’s never felt anything like him and doubts he ever will. After all, Lucifer is made for him as he’s made for Lucifer. 

Sam’s rhythm is slow and indulgent. Lucifer doesn’t complain. He massages a circle over the side of his belly, utterly content in Sam’s arms as Sam rocks in and out of him. Sam reaches under it to find his stiff cock and stroke it between his fingers. Lucifer groans in pleasure, and Sam can feel the deep vibrations of it against his own chest. 

With each thrust, more come gets pushed out, coating Lucifer’s thighs and Sam’s cock. It’s the best lube Sam has ever used. When he pulls out of Lucifer to return to fucking his thighs for a few thrusts, the mess makes it easy. 

He can feel the beginning quakes of Lucifer’s orgasm in the way his legs tense and his hole tries to clench down on Sam’s cock. He slips back out of Lucifer to buy more time. His cock rubs back against Lucifer’s ass. Sam parts his cheeks. His cock catches on the rim of Lucifer’s asshole with every thrusts, but that hole is impossibly tight in comparison to the other one.

“Fuck, you feel good,” Sam says. Lucifer can’t decide what to roll his hips towards, Sam’s cock against his asshole or his fingers against his dick. Sam takes pity, pressing back inside Lucifer.

Lucifer comes from that feeling. (Sam only barely holds on.) He pants, his cock throbbing between Sam’s fingers until Lucifer grabs his hand and drags it away once he gets oversensitive. Even as Sam thrusts inside him, Lucifer’s responding moans get a little more desperate. Sam pulls out again.

He pushes Lucifer’s leg down. There’s a fresh coating of wetness on the inside of Lucifer’s thighs, and Sam takes advantage. He’s never thought of fucking someone’s thighs as an ideal way to get off, but Lucifer’s are so soft and already lubed up. Sam won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Lucifer exhales. He doesn’t get much stimulation like this, if any. It’s ideal when he’s completely spent and too sensitive to enjoy it.

Sam clings to him, mouth open against Lucifer’s back as his cock slides back and forth. His own breath puffs back against his face, humid. Lucifer squeezes his thighs together. 

Sam’s balls draw tight. It only takes two more thrusts before he adds his own come to the mess. 

“You’re perfect,” Sam mumbles against Lucifer’s skin, dizzy with sated desire. He promised to clean up, and he will, but right now, he wants to savor this. "I love you." It means what it always has, but there's a new facet to it now.

"I love you, too," Lucifer says back.

Sam’s surprised just how comfortable the nest the nagas produce is. It’s much smaller than their own, which Sam can see a few feet away. He gets Lucifer settled, sitting leaned back with his legs spread. He’s trembling slightly. 

The nagas watch curiously as Sam kneels between Lucifer’s legs. “Whenever you’re ready,” he tells Lucifer. Lucifer chuckles weakly.

”You mean, whenever they’re ready.” Sam puts a hand on Lucifer’s stomach. Lucifer breathes in as deeply as he can. 

They definitely are. Sam can feel the slightest movement under his skin, not a kick, but restless twitching. The eggs will hatch inside him if they don’t hurry. Sam strokes Lucifer’s thigh. 

Lucifer pushes. Sam knows when an egg pops into his passage and begins to slide down because he hears Lucifer groan in relief. The pressure of how full he is must be unbearable on the final day of incubating the eggs. Sam gives him encouragement as he waits for the egg to reach his hole. It crests, off-white and round, and it stretches Lucifer’s hole wide as it forces its way out. Sam catches it in his hands. He lays it carefully on the collected moss and leaves around them.

The next eggs roll out slowly, but they don’t give Lucifer time to rest in between. As soon as he’s pushed one out, there’s another already making its way down. They scrape his nerves raw as they shove through him, leaving him gasping for air. Sam leans forward and sucks his cock into his mouth, eyes on Lucifer’s shrinking belly. Lucifer comes as a big egg gets stuck at his hole, the broadest part of it pushing and pushing to get out and sucking back in, pure torture. Sam prods his twitching hole with his fingers and manages to slide two inside. He makes Lucifer open wide enough for the egg and watches as it pulls him so far open on its release. 

Lucifer hasn’t finished laying when Sam hears the first eggs begin to crack. None inside him, only those already laid, but the green naga comes closer to help. She frees one baby as Sam delivers another egg to place beside the broken shells.

Lucifer already looks exhausted, but some light returns to his eyes when he hears the baby naga cry. He pushes another egg free as he watches the naga rocking the child, cooing at them. 

When a second egg hatches, Sam asks, “Can I hold them?” and he’s handed a wriggling baby with odd slitted eyes and a dark green tail. He stops for a moment, staring down at them. They cry, and Sam shushes them, “you’re alright. I’ve got you. You’re alright.” He places them in Lucifer’s arms.

Sam has never held one of them before. He feels…

He loves them. He looks at Lucifer kissing the baby’s head, and he can barely breathe. Sam’s been saying our children, but he hadn’t understood just how true that was until now.

Not all of the eggs hatch. Some will need a few more days. The ones that do get passed from one pair of arms to another, Sam’s included. Lucifer looks as happy as Sam has ever seen him as he nurses. Sam rocks the baby he’s holding back and forth. It sleepily burbles at him, tiny forked tongue flicking out.

They would be hunted, Sam realizes. They would grow into creatures like their mothers, and hunters would come. They might kill the babies, or they might kill the parents, and Sam suddenly feels sick thinking about it. He could have been that hunter, a few months ago. 

He hugs the baby closer to his chest.

Lucifer promised that his children would never hurt humans. Sam believes him. All his life, hunting has been a path led by blood. If there’s no death to follow, then maybe there won’t be hunters to track them down and hurt them. 

And if there is…

Lucifer won’t hesitate. If he couldn’t choose to love humanity over God, then he will never love them over his own children. 

Sam wants their children to live in a better world than he did, than he helped create. He would do anything to give it to them.

Some things change, but most stay the same.

They have to leave the nagas eventually. Lucifer’s grace shines as he grants the pair the ability to feed their hatchlings since he can’t stay. His grace even sparks against Sam’s skin like static when Lucifer kisses him. They can do that now, as easy as breathing. 

Lucifer gets the same look in his eye after enough time passes, and Sam is just as willing to help him as before.

(More willing, maybe.

”Sam,” Lucifer whines, “you don’t have to-“ 

Sam crooks the three fingers he already has inside Lucifer to shut him up. “I need to get you prepared,” he tells Lucifer. “Need to stretch you out so you can take it.” He knows the only reason Lucifer is protesting is because Sam won’t let him come. Not until he’s on his knees getting bred.

Sam pushes a fourth finger inside him and smothers those protests with his mouth.)

He watches Lucifer get wrecked by a manticore this time, its scorpion tail snapping aggressively into the air with each thrust. The spikes adorning its cock remind Sam of the nagas, and for a moment, he’s worried about Lucifer getting hurt. He doesn’t have to (though he’s not sure if that’s because the spikes don’t hurt him or if Lucifer likes it, practically screaming his head off in pleasure as the manticore fucks him.)

Sam doesn’t have to torture himself by ignoring how much watching Lucifer turns him on. He can openly stroke his own cock to the sight. Lucifer’s eyes occasionally manage to meet his, and Sam has to bite his lip to keep himself from coming too soon. 

Lucifer doesn’t bother, or can’t, with how he’s being dragged back and forth along the ground by the cock fucking him.

Sam’s favorite part, the one he holds out for, is right at the end. He watches Lucifer’s face as the manticore gives in and fucks its come deep inside him. There’s only pure bliss behind his eyes as he’s bred. That’s what has Sam groaning and coming into his own hand.

The manticore pulls out once it’s filled Lucifer up. Sam watches Lucifer, an archangel, the devil, one of the oldest beings in the universe and the scariest thing Sam ever hunted, flop to the ground like a sack of potatoes and lay there waiting for Sam to come help him up. When Sam touches him, (the manticore, with its far too human face, nods at him and lopes off as he approaches) he can feel Lucifer’s grace buzzing with joy under his skin. It strengthens with every cycle of this. 

Sam loves every stage of Lucifer’s pregnancies, but this might be his favorite. 

Manticores have small litters, and so Lucifer’s only carrying one cub this time. His baby bump is beginning to really show, and his breasts are overly sensitive. Sam can encourage him to leak a few drops of milk with only a little effort. His hands are constantly on Lucifer, never quite believing how much he’s allowed. He runs his fingers up the happy trail that spreads up his belly and massages Lucifer’s sore breasts and can’t get enough of how incredibly hot he is. 

There’s a few benefits to Lucifer not being too far along. One of them is that he can ride Sam. 

Sam steadies him with his hands on Lucifer’s hips as Lucifer strokes his cock and sinks down on him. He goes slowly, taking Sam inch by inch like he needs time to adjust, like he didn’t take a cock an arm’s length inside him the other day with no trouble. He lets Sam in as easily as he did the manticore. 

Like he wants Sam to breed him, too.

The thought hits Sam like a truck, that growing desire in him unearthed all at once. He thrusts up, dragging Lucifer down onto his dick at the same time. Lucifer’s mouth falls open around a surprised moan. His baby bump touches Sam’s stomach as he grinds down onto him.

Sam needs to knock Lucifer up. Every other monster on Earth gets a piece of him. Why not Sam? He slides one hand up from Lucifer's hip over his stomach, imagining the child growing inside him isn't the spawn of a random manticore but all Sam's own.

Their children are their children, and Sam loves them and will protect them with his life. Even this one. But they have to share these with the monsters who fucked Lucifer.

Sam’s greedy. He wants to be the one to fill Lucifer up, to tilt his hips up and make him come so that he gets pregnant even easier, to know that when he starts to show, Sam did that. He’d give Lucifer a child in a heartbeat, one for him to love and hold and keep. 

Lucifer seeks his pleasure first, greedy in a different way. He keeps Sam buried inside him, pressing the head of his cock against a sensitive spot with small rolls of his hips. His hand falls between his legs, circling the head of his own cock before he reaches for Sam’s hand instead. He wants Sam to do all the work, and Sam will, gladly. He strokes the hair that decorates Lucifer’s belly down to where it thickens. Lucifer’s dick pokes proudly from between his lips, and Sam parts them to glimpse more of the shaft.

Sam can’t pull out until Lucifer wants him to. The thought makes his head spin. If Lucifer wasn’t already pregnant, he could make sure it happened. All he’d have to do was keep Sam pinned. Maybe a few months ago, that wrestling match would have been more even, but now? Lucifer’s got grace to burn running through his veins. 

Sam pushes himself up with his other arm. If he bends, he can lay kisses against the top of Lucifer’s belly. Lucifer’s hand rests in his hair. Sam rubs his thumb along the underside of Lucifer’s dick, up to the head and back down between his folds. When he dips back far enough, away from Lucifer’s dick, he finds his hole, filled up by Sam. He could slide a finger or two in there next to his cock, but he doesn’t, running back up to play with Lucifer’s dick. It’s such a perfect size, swollen between Sam’s fingers, easy to suck and stroke. Sam loves it.

He rests his forehead at the center of Lucifer’s chest, feeling his lungs expand. Does he still need to breathe, or is that a habit left over from his body? He gets tired, still, but even angels get tired. Sam turns his face into Lucifer’s breast, kissing it. Lucifer always has noises to give him when he touches them. They’re always on the cusp of being too sensitive, too sore, swelling up for the sole purpose of feeding his babies before leaving again. Sam mouths along the edge of the scar beneath them. That was a choice, once, for the owner of this body before he gave it to Lucifer, and now Lucifer makes his own choice, comforted by the fluid nature of his own flesh.

Sam finds his nipple and sucks it into his mouth, eyes shutting. He rolls his tongue over it. Lucifer grunts. Sam keeps sucking, one hand on Lucifer’s dick, the other guiding his hips against Sam. His belly presses into Sam’s from this angle. 

He was right. Lucifer does taste sweet. His milk drips onto Sam’s tongue. 

Sam’s quickly losing his grip on his own control. He’s going to come too quickly. Come inside Lucifer, deep inside, completely bare, no condom, nothing to stop Sam from knocking him up. Sam groans around his nipple. 

Lucifer’s panting quicker, harsh breaths chanting out, “faster, more,” as he directs Sam how to rub his cock. He’s close. Sam has to hold on for him.

If he holds on and Lucifer comes first, his body will draw Sam’s come right up into his womb and-

Fuck, if only he wasn’t pregnant already. Sam would make Lucifer a mother so quickly. They’d raise the kid together, give them two fathers they’d know would never hurt them. Lucifer would get to keep his baby for once, and it would be Sam’s, it would be-

Sam buries his face in Lucifer’s chest again, his cheek against his breast. His cock goes off in spurts, and Sam thrusts his hips into each of them, driving them deep. Lucifer’s dick is twitching between his fingers, so close, and all it takes is a few more tugs before Sam feels Lucifer tense up and his hole convulse around him. Sam must be pressed against someplace really good inside him because Lucifer squirts onto Sam’s hand, loud as he’s ever been when Sam’s watched him get fucked. 

He’s as loose-limbed as he is after that, too. Sam rolls him onto his side, wiping his soaked hand off on the far end of the sheets. He pulls out of Lucifer, a few drops of his own come spilling free. Sam pushes them back in with his fingers. He might not be able to breed Lucifer, but that doesn’t mean he can’t try. He rests his head against Lucifer’s belly for a moment. It’s too early for kicking. Still, he takes solace in knowing the manticore cub will still be theirs. Sam may not have put the baby in Lucifer, but  when they’re born, they will know that Sam loves them all the same.

And maybe that can be enough, he tells himself, as if that’s ever convinced him before.

For the first time, Sam puts his foot down.

”This isn’t a good idea,” he says and means it. “You’re not fucking a leviathan. Out of the question.” Lucifer smiles like he thinks Sam is teasing him, but it fades quickly as he recognizes the seriousness on his face.

"Why not?"

"Well, for one, it'll try to eat you," Sam says. Lucifer scoffs.

"It can try." Sam doesn't even understand why he wants this. Lucifer has always looked at leviathans with disgust, more so than demons. There's a history there that Sam doesn't know about, the details of it hidden in how the only grudge Lucifer ever held against Cas was for releasing them onto the Earth and how well he can pick out one in disguise that Sam would have pegged for a human. And now he wants to one to fuck him? Lucifer must sense Sam's agitation. He loops an arm around Sam from behind and presses his face into the back of his neck, nosing his hair out of the way. "Think of it this way: I have the final say on how our children come out. I could raise a new crop of leviathans, less destructive, unnecessary for you to hunt." Sam can't remember the last time he did go on a hunt. It was months ago with Dean. He'd turned down every offer since.

"Where are you even going to find a leviathan?" Lucifer produces a newspaper. Sam gets through reading two paragraphs about a local reclusive millionaire who has recently come into the public eye with his new interest in politics before he has to admit that it stinks of leviathan. In another life, Lucifer would have made a scarily good hunter.

"Rich men and politicians, the modern day kings," Lucifer muses, "it's like catnip to them."

"And we roll up to his house and see if he'll let us in for anything other than having us for dinner?" Sam says. "Unlikely. Besides, think of the rumors you would cause." Lucifer's eyes light up. He has enough bad ideas on his own. He really doesn't need Sam inspiring him with new ones like 'become embroiled in a major political scandal.' Lucifer anywhere near politics will be dark days indeed.

"I think I can inspire him to meet with us," Lucifer says, resolutely. "I'm not sure if you noticed. I'm irresistible." Sam sighs.

"If you do this," he says, (He could stop this. Part of him doesn't want to. He'll chalk it up to morbid curiosity.) "I'm keeping watch, and the moment something happens that you don't want, we chop him up into little pieces and bury him across the state. And if he manages somehow to pull himself back together again sometime in the future, we do it again." Sam won't risk Lucifer, ever.

Lucifer kisses Sam's neck when he gets his way. "Thank you, Sam."

Sam has no idea how Lucifer convinced the leviathan to come to their motel room. Frankly, he doesn't give a shit. All he does care about is making sure he's got borox on hand to spray the thing with and a sharp enough blade to hack bits of it off.

Lucifer hides him in the closet. It's built with thin wooden blinds that allow Sam to see out into the wider room. "He won't try to eat me," Lucifer says, "but you're human, and worse, a Winchester, which means letting him see you would be serving you up on a platter." Sam doesn't like it, but there's not much he can do about it, either. Lucifer knows where he is and can soothe his nerves with an innocuous glance that the leviathan will write off. Sam still keeps one hand on the closet handle and the other on his blade.

Lucifer waits, sitting on the end of the bed and watching the entrance. Sam can't help but feel like he's playing bait again.

Eventually, the door opens. The face of the man the leviathan stole the life of walks in. He shuts the door behind him and looks around. Sam tenses. His eyes land on Lucifer at last, and Sam wonders how much of him the leviathan can see. Do they have eyes designed to withstand an angel's true form, peer past the flesh and see what's underneath the way they do with their own kind, or did they languish so long in the dark of Purgatory that truly seeing Lucifer would burn him to ash in a second? Sam leans towards the latter as the leviathan's mouth curves wickedly. Lucifer's vessel allows him to not strike anyone as frightening until it's too late.

"So, you're an angel," the leviathan says, looking Lucifer over. Lucifer examines him back, unintimidated. "You aren't that impressive." The same comment from Sam might make Lucifer sulk for a week. From a leviathan, it doesn't even sting Lucifer's pride.

"And you're younger than I expected," he observes, sounding almost curious. "Born in Purgatory... This is your first time walking the Earth, isn't it?" The leviathan looks taken aback. Sam is starting to realize he smiles like a defense mechanism, less to ease the other person and more to make sure they know how many teeth he has. With a human mouth of dull molars, it isn't much of a threat, but what lies beneath is always bared to strike. Lucifer smiles back. Sam wonders which true form has more fangs. "I only know because if you weren't, you'd know my name," he says, "but you don't, and it doesn't matter for what we're about to do anyway." The leviathan takes a step closer.

"I know," he says, "I can smell it on you. I would recognize Eve's scent anywhere. You might not be her, but you can make more of us all the same." He steps closer to Lucifer. Lucifer has to tilt his head back slightly to keep meeting the leviathan's eyes, but he continues to show no signs of fear. That seems to get on the leviathan's nerves. "What's the catch?" he demands.

"There's no catch," Lucifer says. "You do your part, and I bring your children into the world."

"My part?"

"Maybe you're too young to know how baby leviathans are made," Lucifer taunts. He must know he's making Sam's life a thousand times harder every time he mocks the creature with a maw of razor-sharp teeth hiding beside its human facade.

"I've lived for centuries," it corrects, "I know how we're born." Lucifer chuckles, and there's eons behind the sound. If the leviathan were any smarter, it would hear them. It would understand that it can no more have control over Lucifer than it can force a planet to reverse its orbit. (Sam, on the other hand, can reverse that orbit or set it on a completely different course, but he understands better than anyone in the universe how careful he has to be with that kind of power.)

Sam has seen leviathans reveal themselves to feed before. It was a quick transformation, like a beheading. He knew too much to believe that was the extent of their true forms, but to see how much more they’re hiding leaves him frozen in shock. This reveal takes time. Sam watches the leviathan’s body twist and peel open. Its furthest extremities melt into its body, the bubbling darkness of its blood seeping out to form a new sticky skin. It stretches out further than it’s human form allowed. Tendrils of thick, black ooze grow from it. The mouth that its head became extends down its form, opening like a zipper with teeth the size of Sam’s hand and as sharp as the now useless blade he’s holding. He’s sure if he tried to slice into the leviathan now, it would sink into its body and Sam wouldn’t get it back.

Lucifer watches all of this and finally starts to look interested in the leviathan. He touches his stomach absently. The hulking mass of goo and teeth and tendrils turns its attention on him. It has no eyes, but somehow Sam knows it can see Lucifer clearly. 

It makes a disgusting noise, wet and grinding. Without waiting another minute, it shoots out its new limbs to grab Lucifer. They wrap around his body quickly, arms and legs caught first and then more wrapping around his torso. They smear ooze against his skin. It looks wrong, and Sam resists the urge to burst out and stop everything only because Lucifer’s eyes flick towards his hiding place. Lucifer looks calm despite his circumstances.

The tendrils explore his body, leaving more black smears over his skin. 

Sam has the awful feeling that Lucifer is being tasted.

The leviathan speaks. The sound makes Sam's mouth feel like it's filled with metal shrapnel. "Mine," it growls at Lucifer, into Lucifer, the voice coming from the tendrils pressed to his skin as much as from behind the rows of teeth. "Mine, mine, mine," is the greedy rhythm it jerks Lucifer around with. One tentacle wraps around his throat from behind, dragging his head back under threat of choking. Sam's heart beats faster. Lucifer's eyes meet his again, not as calm, but still enough to make Sam back down. The leviathan keeps bragging about the angel it thinks its caught, but Lucifer looks at Sam, not it. Sam mouths the word instead, mine, and though Lucifer can't see him, he knows that's what they're both thinking.

The leviathan spreads Lucifer's legs, twisting his body into the air and supporting it with more tentacles. Other creatures would be gentler. Sam has seen them wait to make sure Lucifer can take them or nuzzle his face with muzzles or beaks. The leviathan positions his limbs like a doll, uncaring for his comfort, only for what Lucifer will give to him. It’s transactional.

Sam watches Lucifer stretch under the tendrils, testing their strength. When two rise to prod at his hole, he angles his hips so that they’ll find his dick, too. A tentacle haphazardly smears ooze over his chest, covering one nipple. Sam wonders if the Leviathan’s… he’s not even sure what to call it. It’s the same color and form as their blood but a different viscosity. If it’s hot or cold against Lucifer’s skin.

Another curls around the back of Lucifer’s head, brushing the one on his neck. It rubs against his cheek and lips. Lucifer only grants it entry when the ones between his legs slide against his dick. He opens his mouth, and it pokes inside. Sam sees him frown at the taste, but then the tentacle begins a slow, shallow rhythm, dragging back out and in again. Lucifer relaxes, letting his jaw go slack so it can fuck his mouth.

The two tentacles at his hole squirm in at the same time. They meld together into one thick one when they’re pressed into each other. Lucifer groans around the one in his mouth. 

Sam’s eyes dart back and forth between the spectacle of Lucifer getting spitroasted by tentacles and those teeth that are far too close to him for Sam’s comfort.

He has to drop a hand into his lap to relieve some of the tension. He doesn’t do anything major, just squeezes his dick through them. He has to keep quiet, and he can’t risk getting off while watching Lucifer now. No matter how good he's starting to look as those tentacles fill him. 

The one already inside him twists and pushes deeper. Lucifer’s head either falls back or is pulled back again by the one around his neck. Either way, Sam can see the bulge of the tentacle in his mouth as it thrusts inside right at the top of his throat.

Another tendril winds its way up Lucifer’s thigh, and Sam’s breath catches as it slides up against Lucifer’s ass. Sam has touched him there once or twice, slipped a finger inside him as he came to make it better, but as far as he knows, Lucifer has never taken anything bigger up there. Definitely not something as long or as wide as the tendril pressing itself against his hole.

Sam tenses, ready to spring into an attack the moment he hears Lucifer sound like he's in pain. The tendril glides inside. Lucifer’s eyes shoot open from their lazy half-closed state, and he makes a noise around the one filing his mouth. The tendril inside his ass thrusts deeper, and Lucifer rolls his hips back against it. From the look on his face, what he's feeling is far from pain. 

Each hole is filled up. Each movement is restricted. Each noise he makes is muffled into the leviathan.  Lucifer is there to be used, and he's loving it. 

Sam tries to resist, but he ends up with his hands down his waistband anyway. Still over his boxers, stroking himself through them, but the fabric only adds another layer of pleasure to it, especially where it has grown damp around the head. 

When Lucifer comes, he grinds back against the tentacle in his ass the most. Whatever new sensations he’s being introduced to, Sam’s got a feeling he’ll be asking for them next time they fuck. Maybe he’ll let Sam open him up nice and slow, until one hole is as wet as the other. 

The leviathan pulls Lucifer closer to itself. His legs press into the slimy surface of its body. Sam’s eyes are on its teeth again, but those withdraw to make room for something else, a thick rod, more solid than the rest of its tentacles. It pulls Lucifer even closer until his body is sinking into the leviathan’s. It shoves the rod at Lucifer before the two tentacles that became one in his hole begin to drag out. 

The leviathan shoves the rod inside him. Lucifer takes it with a moan. 

The leviathan holds him still. Sam can see the exact moment Lucifer can feel eggs beginning to pump into him. The leviathan doesn’t have to be spread his legs. Lucifer does it himself, begging to be bred. There’s hardly an inch of his body that hasn’t been covered in leviathan goop, and his hole drips with it. 

Sam’s eyes are on Lucifer’s belly as egg after egg finds its new home. He’s transfixed by the slow growth of it. It lacks the smooth roundness of a pregnancy. Instead, the eggs are bumpy, uneven where the fill him. Sam longs to run his hand over them, but he has to wait until the leviathan is gone and he can take care of Lucifer. 

The leviathan rumbles as the next step begins, and it comes just as deep inside Lucifer as it buried the eggs, fertilizing them. Outside, tentacles caress the eggs. The leviathan jerks itself free from Lucifer’s hole, it's come spilling out after it. The tentacle in Lucifer’s mouth pops free, black goo smeared down his chin as he gasps in air. The one in his ass takes its time dragging out of him. He’s left clenching around nothing.

"I'll keep you," the leviathan croons at Lucifer, and for the first time, Sam sees Lucifer flinch. He hides it well, but Sam has felt Lucifer's expressions cross his own face and can read them better than anyone else on Earth. "Eat your wings and the rest of these useless limbs. I won't need them." The tentacles splay Lucifer further, a pinned butterfly on display.

“I’ll pass,” he says. His eyes dart down to his exposed belly. Sam readies himself to spring out.

“I wasn’t giving you a choice,” the leviathan says. “Did you think I would let you go now that I know what you are? You’re useful. Our numbers are dwindling. Leviathans are starving,” it laughs and it makes Sam want to vomit, “but these ones will be smarter than that.” It pets Lucifer’s stomach again. 

“I don’t do well in captivity,” Lucifer says. His voice is growing colder. 

“I don’t care,” the leviathan says. It tries to pet Lucifer's cheek with a tendril. Lucifer turns his head and bites down on it until it spurts. The leviathan screeches. Sam takes his cue and bursts from the closet, but the leviathan’s yell knocks him off balance. It’s only for a moment, but when he looks up, he sees a tentacle crashing towards him. It aims for the wrist keeping hold of the borax. It catches him and begins to squeeze. Sam drops the borax, but the leviathan doesn’t let up until Sam can hear his bones crack under its grip. 

Despite this, it continues to talk to Lucifer like nothing has happened. Only its teeth betray it, a hungry mouth opening in Sam’s direction. 

"You’ll lay my eggs, and I’ll fill you again immediately. I'll have to eat the weaker ones," the leviathan says, and the cruelty in its voice is as though it has never known how to be anything else, "but they deserve it if they don't know how to fight back. You can always make more."

Three things happen in quick succession.

The leviathan releases Sam to focus its attention on Lucifer. It widens its jaw, teeth sliding out from inside itself. Lucifer breaks free, and he attacks the Leviathan with a wild fervor that Sam has never seen in him. Not the imperious glee of the slaughter of gods or the desperate rage that allowed Sam to take control back in Stull. It's like he forgets he wears a human vessel. He sees the leviathan's rows of teeth and tries to match them with his own. Sam doesn't even have time to shout for him or try to help before Lucifer is using its amorphous form against it, digging his hands deep into its flesh. Teeth rise from different parts of its body to try to rip his arm off and pull it into itself. Lucifer grabs them, and as easily as pruning a potted plant, he breaks the teeth off. His hands bleed against the edges.

It's the leviathan that begins to scream first. The noise it makes belongs to the bottom of the ocean.

Lucifer does the impossible. He rends the leviathan apart. His grace burns from the inside when Lucifer shoves his hands into it again. There's a tendril around his throat again, but no matter how hard it squeezes, Lucifer doesn't react. The leviathan splatters and gurgles and bites uselessly at the furious archangel until it finally begins to slump to the floor, seeping into the stained carpet, a mass of teeth and black goo that cannot be told apart from its blood, and Lucifer bowed over it all, so covered in the leviathan's gore that he's almost a part of the corpse.

Evidently, no one had ever tried setting an archangel frantic to protect their children on the leviathans, or else they'd have gone extinct a long time ago.

Sam’s wrist is on fire. He makes the stupid mistake of trying to push himself to his feet using that hand and regrets it instantly. He gets up anyway. Lucifer needs him. He’s still tearing into the leviathan, as though it will get up and leap on him again.

"It's dead," Sam says, and he wraps his arms around Lucifer to pull him away from the oozing carcass left behind. "It's dead," he repeats. "You killed it. They're safe." Lucifer strains against him, but Sam doesn’t let go. He can feel the entirety of an archangel’s power under Lucifer’s skin, but when Sam tugs on him, he stumbles back. 

Sam wipes gunk off of his face. It’s everywhere. 

Motel rooms are supposed to be where they recover. This one is tainted. They couldn’t stay here even if it was miraculously clean. Someone will have heard the leviathan dying, and any intrepid gossip could have followed the leviathan here in its human form. It won’t take long for dots to get connected, and they need to be far away before that ever happens. Sam doesn’t bother going to get a towel. He wipes Lucifer up as best he can with the bed sheets. 

Lucifer keeps staring at the leviathan’s corpse. He doesn’t say anything. His hand rests over the eggs protectively. 

He hears Sam hiss as his wrist burns with pain. Sam flinches when Lucifer closes his hands around it, the leviathan's blood getting on Sam as well. It feels disgusting, too warm and wet to cling so much to their skin. His wrist aches under Lucifer's touch for a moment before Sam can feel the bones realign and knit back together. Lucifer looks exhausted.

Sam gets him dressed enough that no one will ask questions. He packs everything up. The room is starting to stink, oily and rotten. 

Lucifer stamps on the corpse twice before they leave. Sam wonders how much of that is genuinely making sure it’s dead and how much is revenge for the threats. He’ll never know, and he thinks that might be for the best.

Sam’s starting to get concerned about Lucifer’s silence when he suddenly sits up and says, “I’m hungry.”

”Now you get pregnancy cravings?” Lucifer narrows his eyes at Sam. There’s black blood or… something else that’s dried near where his jaw meets his ear. If Sam wasn’t driving, he’d reach over and try to rub it off. “What are you hungry for?” 

He tries to remember the last time Lucifer ate and finds that he can’t. 

“I don’t know,” Lucifer answers. He stares out the window again as the car rolls up from a tree-lined road to a small intersection, the out-stretched branch of a town with a gas station missing its sign and a Biggerson’s that’s clearly a hack job renovation of another business that shut down. Lucifer jabs a finger towards it, bumping the glass of his window. “That.”

”Burgers?”

”Meat.” The worrying amount of hunger in his voice aside, Sam can throw down enough cash for lunch. Lucifer’s never liked food. He claims the textures are all wrong, the tastes too messy, but he seems ravenous when Sam hands him his order. Sam just watched him bite into a Leviathan so he could keep it still as he killed it. Lucifer treats the burger the same way. Sam loses his appetite, which means he hands over his lunch to his starving archangel. Lucifer unwraps it and eats it quickly. When it’s gone, he looks satisfied, licking crumbs off his fingers.

”You’re not going to try to eat me next, right?” Sam asks, and he means it as a joke but it comes out strained. 

“Probably not.” Lucifer laughs at the expression Sam makes. “Sam, I wouldn’t.” He pauses. “Not without permission.”

”Let me be clear, you don’t have my consent to eat me.” Lucifer relaxes against the car door, well-fed and happy. He’s still covered in dried Leviathan bits that Sam doesn’t want to think about, but they’ll wash that off at the Bunker. He’ll be okay. 

“You never know,” Lucifer says. “You have a very good habit of saying yes to me.”

”And then who would give you massages?” Lucifer nods in agreement, fingers trailing over the eggs in his belly. Sam makes a note to get some ground beef at the store once they’re back in Lebanon. A lot of it. The cashiers already give him weird looks. What’s one more oddity to add to the list?

Sam's not sure where he would have brought Lucifer if he hadn't known Dean would be out of the Bunker. It isn't as if he has many other hideouts to go to, not ones close enough, and no friends who would happily let him in if he was dragging a worn-out and pregnant devil with him. The Bunker, for all its faults, is safe, and more importantly, it has somewhere for Sam to wash Lucifer off. The showers were built for one person a stall, and Lucifer is unsteady enough on his feet after using so much of his barely restored grace in such a short time and trying to adjust to the eggs he's carrying. That only leaves the communal baths, an area of the Bunker that until this point had gotten little to no use. Sam fills one of the three huge tubs that take up half of the room. He makes sure the water is warm enough before he helps Lucifer in. None of their soup or rags are in here, so Sam has to leave him for a minute to go get them from the showers. When he gets back, Lucifer has sunk further into the bath, eyes shut. Black gunk congeals on the surface of the water and, making a face, Sam scoops it out and lets it splosh to the floor to be cleaned up later.

“Lucifer,” he says, a warning for his presence so that he doesn’t end up startling him. Lucifer doesn’t stir. Sam reaches over and strokes his shoulder, his fingers brushing the water and causing tiny ripples that grow when Lucifer moves.

I need to know you’re okay. Sam can’t bring himself to say it, so instead he lays out the course of action. He can vividly remember falling to the floor in pain as the leviathan cornered Lucifer again, and if Lucifer hadn’t been strong enough to kill it- The helplessness stings. Sam gives himself a way to soothe it. “I’m going to clean you up. If you want me to stop touching you, tell me.” This is not an open wound. Sam has grit his teeth against his crawling skin as Dean patched him up times and time again, an apology on his brother’s face that came out as bad jokes to distract him. Lucifer doesn’t have to bear anything he doesn’t want to. Sam will make sure of it.

Lucifer lifts a hand, palm up. The invitation is clear. Sam is overly dressed for it, but he doesn’t think about that. He takes Lucifer’s hand in his and lets him pull him into the bath.

The heat sinks into his bones, settling aches that Sam has been ignoring for a long time. His clothes get soaked quickly, growing heavy and dark as Sam settles in beside Lucifer. There’s need in how Lucifer draws him closer that Sam recognizes. It will never be close enough. Sam lets him bring him in anyway, until their bodies become mirrors. The eggs are the only outlier in between them, protected as Sam curls over them. Sam tips his head forward to bump Lucifer’s. Lucifer breathes to capture the air leaving Sam’s lungs rather than from his body’s own need.

Sam’s surprised when Lucifer cups his face and tilts it to the side. His fingers slide back against the soft skin between Sam’s ear and his hair. He brushes them back and forth with purpose, which Sam only discovers once they retreat and he can see Lucifer’s stained fingertips. He drops them into the water, and the leviathan blood comes off in an oily cloud.

“It was bothering me,” Lucifer says, quietly. In response, Sam does the same. He seeks the spot on Lucifer’s jaw that he noticed earlier. His skin is already wet, and Sam scrubs until he’s clean.

Sam picks up a rag and squirts soap onto it. Lucifer tenses when Sam goes to position him without thinking, and so he lets Lucifer move on his own, not touching him again until he’s sure Lucifer will be comfortable with it. He washes off Lucifer’s chest first. He goes lower. He can feel the eggs, and as he rids Lucifer of more of the filth left by the leviathan, he rounds his hand over Lucifer’s belly. Before he can even ask the question, Lucifer answers it. Sam is tuned into Lucifer’s wavelength, and parts of Lucifer never left Sam’s soul. “They’re alright. They’re healthy.”

Sam bows to lay a kiss against the eggs. The marks the leviathan tried to leave on him will be washed away, but the love Sam promises with this will not. He submerges his head in the water to press his lips against Lucifer’s skin. When he rises out, his hair is plastered over his face, and he has to slick it back to see Lucifer smiling at him. It exists more in his eyes than in the curve of his mouth, but it’s there.

Sam gets a different rag without soap to wash between his legs. He starts with Lucifer’s pubic hair, washing it of the leviathan goop that clings to it until there’s only short, blonde hair, clean and soft under Sam’s hand. Even more gently, he spreads Lucifer’s folds and makes sure his hole is also clean. Sam can’t tell the difference between the leviathan’s body or blood or… semen, he guesses, but none of it will stay on Lucifer.

He nudges Lucifer to have him spread his legs wider and lean back a little, giving Sam better access to his rear. He swabs Lucifer’s asshole and down through the hair surrounding it. When that’s clean, Sam puts a hand on his leg.

”Can you lift it?” he asks. Lucifer does, bracing it on Sam’s shoulder. Sam reaches for the soap again before he begins to wash Lucifer’s legs. They got the worst of the mess. Sam washes under his knee and the back of his calf. The rag scraping against the sole of his foot makes Lucifer huff, not quite a laugh.

Even when Sam has finished washing his whole body, he sits beside Lucifer and finds black gunk under his fingernails. He brushes the rag back and forth against his fingertip, and Lucifer leans into him. The muck chips away, bit by bit, until there’s nothing left of the encounter with the leviathan but the eggs.

Sam knows the risk he’s taking keeping Lucifer at the Bunker, but once they’ve settled in, moving him doesn’t seem like a good idea. Sam texts his brother to make sure he isn’t coming back. Dean says he’s working a hunt, and for the amount of time Lucifer will need to incubate and lay the eggs, that should be fine.

Sam still has trouble relaxing unless Lucifer is in his sight. He hasn’t been this wound up about Lucifer since the first day he showed up, helpless and human. 

Sam is relieved when Lucifer finally tells him it's time to lay the eggs. Even with endless credit cards, he was starting to get a little worried Lucifer would eat him out of house and home. A switch flips in Lucifer, hormonal mood swings but a thousand times stronger than usual, and then he's ravenous. Sam's enraptured by how quickly he can devour a chunk of meat. (Not a burger, because putting it on a bun takes too long, but at least he lets Sam cook it. Sam's pretty sure Lucifer would eat raw meat without compunctions if he weren't here to prevent that.) He's eating for two (or two dozen) and if he sometimes stares at Sam when he's done a little longer than is comfortable, they don't talk about it.

The communal bath has gotten more use in the past few days than it has the entire time they've stayed there. First, in washing Lucifer off, and then, in using the heat to help quiet the usual ache that getting filled with eggs left him with, and finally, as a place to safely lay them. Like the mermaids, leviathans need to be returned to the water. Sam helps Lucifer into the tub. It's long since been scrubbed clean of leviathan residue, but Sam has a feeling all that work is about to be undone. Sam takes his usual place at Lucifer's side. It feels strange not to have some monstrous sire there with them, waiting eagerly for its new children. They haven't been alone since the first time.

Sam passes his hand over Lucifer's full belly one last time.

He's curious how big the eggs will be. The largest were that time with the dragon, the smallest were technically the mermaids but since those came out packed together that hardly counted. Lucifer is steadying his breathing in preparation. Sam lays a kiss against the back of his neck and then slides out to get between his legs. Lucifer spreads them wider, and Sam hears his exhales get heavier as it begins. Sam imagines Lucifer can feel one of the eggs loosening from where it's nestled deep inside him, being pushed into his channel, and forced down inch by inch as Lucifer's chest heaves. Before long, the egg is at his hole. Sam watches the rim of it stretch and contract as the egg tries to get out, the widest part of it stopping its progress every time.

"Can I help?" Sam asks. Lucifer nods, his brow furrowed as his body refuses to let the egg go. Sam runs his hand down Lucifer's thigh. He touches the smooth outer shell of the egg and carefully nudges it back inside an inch to make room. Lucifer grunts, and his hole flexes around Sam's fingers. Sam uses that to his advantage, slipping another one in and pulling Lucifer wider. He resists, tightening up again as soon as Sam relaxes his fingers, but Sam's persistent. He adds another finger from his other hand to help. The egg rolls forward into Sam's fingertips, up against Lucifer's hole again. This time, when it tries to get out, Sam has eased Lucifer's body into releasing it. He still uses his fingers to help Lucifer open up for it, but when the egg pops out, he catches it before it thunks against the bottom of the pool. It's a black pearl in his hands, round, not a crack or flaw across the entire shell. It's a little bigger than a cue ball.

Sam sets it down where neither he or Lucifer will accidentally damage it. He can hear a groan escape Lucifer's throat as another egg sets down the path to his hole. This one comes with a gush of black fluid, spilling out into the water between Lucifer's legs. Sam wipes a film of it off of the egg. Lucifer gets no rest between that and the next one. He throws his head back, his breathing getting more rapid as more eggs begin to slide down his passage. His body finds a rhythm that keeps them coming. Each one stretches his hole and comes out with a popping motion once the widest part is past. There's a variety of sizes, from cue ball to sparrow's egg to larger ones that get stuck at Lucifer's hole and sit waiting for Sam's assistance. They clog him up, leaving him to writhe as eggs bump against each other inside him, increasing in pressure until Sam's fingers provide him with relief. Lucifer's dick hardens, the head begging for Sam's touch as it pokes out of its hood. Just a brush has Lucifer shivering and another egg popping free.

Sam has one hand under his hole to catch the eggs and another resting on his pubic bone, his thumb rubbing Lucifer's cock. "That's it," he murmurs as Lucifer's belly shrinks and more eggs escape him. "Good, Lucifer, so good. Come on. I've seen bigger things go inside you. You can do this." Lucifer's hole convulses as his back arches, thrusting against Sam's hand. He has to rebrace himself against the side of the tub after he comes, whimpering as he's stretched by another huge egg before he has a chance to recover. Sam keeps his thumb against Lucifer's cock, spiraling him into overstimulation quickly to help him lay his eggs. "You know they look perfect? Good job. Such a good momma to our eggs. Let them out so they can hatch." Lucifer nods again, his eyes glazing over as Sam makes him come a second time. Two eggs slide out of him with ease. They join their siblings in the small pile Sam is making.

There's a little less than two dozen. It's still enough to leave Lucifer a shuddering, overwhelmed wreck. Sam lets him catch his breath.

He takes Lucifer's hand and lays one of the eggs in it. Lucifer blinks, coming back to himself. His hand curls around the egg. He draws it close to his chest. He stares at it in wonder, and then he brings it to his lips and lays a kiss against the shell, a protective weave of grace that spreads to all of their children that he's just laid, a thank you for the power they restored in him in return.

Sam runs his fingers through Lucifer's hair as Lucifer sets the egg back among its brethren and scoots closer to them.

Lucifer doesn't have to say anything. Sam knows what he's thinking.

They were worth it.

The eggs hatch the same day Lucifer lays them.

Baby leviathans look like tadpoles with too many teeth. There’s a dozen of them, or maybe more, they’re hard to tell apart. Lucifer is sitting on the step beside the bathtub they’re clustered in now, wriggling black worms that zoom over to his arm whenever he lets his hand drift through the water. His fingers are pruned from how long he stayed in there after laying them, a small vulnerability betraying how tiring the ordeal was for him. He won't leave them, though, not after he’s just given birth to them. Sam lingers nearby, watching.

Even the leviathans, Lucifer’s looking at with love.

Sam knows that if he could see his own face, he wouldn't be surprised to find that he is, too.

Lucifer chuckles, fingers playing over the smooth backs of the leviathan babies. He looks so happy.

“They’re going to get hungry soon,” he says. He leans further against the tub, resting his chin on his arm. “You should…” he yawns. "Go get some food.” He glances up at Sam. Sam can’t help but smile at him.

“You want some, too?” he asks. Lucifer hums, not quite a yes or a no.

Sam could never take this away from him. Already, he’s counting up how many pounds of ground beef he has or will need to buy so that Lucifer has what he needs to feed their babies. He's about to leave when Lucifer stops him. “Wait. Wait, come here.”

“What is it?” Sam crosses the bathroom to him and squats down. Lucifer takes his hand in his own. The water is still warm in the bath and Sam's sure there must be some grace at play there. The Bunker may never run out of hot water, but it doesn't keep it from cooling once it's out of the pipes. When Lucifer starts to pull his hand into it, Sam resists. “I love you, but I don’t feel like being their next meal.” Lucifer shakes his head.

“You won’t.” And damn it all, Sam trusts him. He lets Lucifer sink his hand into the bathwater. Leviathans wriggle closer and Sam holds his breath, expecting sharp teeth and pain. Instead, strange smooth skin, like a frog’s, squirms around him. Lucifer is smiling again. “They should know their other father.” Sam is probably the only human on Earth to have touched a leviathan in its truest form and live. He feels… honored. Both for the experience and to be the one Lucifer trusts to look after their babies. “There we go,” Lucifer says, sleepily, “that’s Sam. You love Sam. You will never harm him.”

Sam only withdraws because he still needs to get them food. By the time he gets back, Lucifer has passed out. Sam unwraps the ground beef and dumps it raw into the bathtub, watching the feeding frenzy with mild horror mixed with a weird amount of affection.

Lucifer’s heavy, but Sam carries him back to their bed rather than wake him up. He’s done enough for the day.

Sam has a two missed calls from Dean. He look at his phone, considers calling his brother back, and then he yawns. If it was that serious, Dean would be calling him nonstop. He can wait until morning. Instead, Sam puts his phone aside and lays in the bed next to Lucifer. In his sleep, Lucifer moves closer to him as Sam wraps an arm around him.

Lucifer is with their babies when Dean comes back early. Sam is barely awake, having put together breakfast for them and now making some for himself. Dean's sudden appearance throws his entire morning off-kilter, and he feels himself start to freak out. Dean's got a look on his face that spells trouble, and Sam's pretty sure it isn't only from driving back to the Bunker all night rather than catching a few hours of sleep. He tries to keep himself calm as he greets his brother.

"You're back early," he says.

"Yeah," Dean says, "turned out not to be much of a hunt. Not by the time I got there." There's a nerve-racking quality to his tone. Sam knows the 'you've done something wrong' voices he has in all their variations; he's been memorizing them since they were kids, but this is one of the newer ones, the one he only started to hear after Dean came back from Hell.

"Other hunters got there first?" He doesn't like how Dean has him almost cornered, that Dean is between him and Lucifer and the leviathans tadpoles.

"Guess you could say that." Alarm bells are ringing in Sam's head. Dean can't know. Sam's never let anything slip. Did he? He frantically searches for some clue he inadvertently dropped to Dean and comes up blank. "They even killed the thing before I got into town, then left me holding the bag when it came to clean-up. Which I think I handled pretty well. No one's coming after them, anyway."

"...what were you hunting?" Sam asks, not because he wants to but because he has to, if there's even a chance that what Dean's dancing around isn't-

"A leviathan," Dean says, "and we both know those sons of bitches don't go down easy. In fact, about the only thing I can think of that could kill one right now would be, let's see..." He feigns searching his mind for an answer and then snaps the one he already had prepared at Sam. "An archangel. Know where I could find one of those? Preferable one that's not dead or rotting away in Hell." Where he should be goes unspoken but not unheard. “Cas told me something weird was happening with him. Guess I wanted better proof, and now I have it.”

"Dean-"

"If the next words out of your mouth are some kind of excuse, I don't want to hear them," Dean cuts him off. "I don't know what kind of crap he's been tying you up with, and- And I never should have let you convince me to not shoot him in the head when we had the chance, not when he's had hundreds of years learning how to get you to play his games. I don't know if it'll work now, but I'll take my chances if it means keeping us, and the whole damn world, safe." Sam's caught between panic and anger. Every time he tries to show Dean he can make his own decisions, Dean decides whatever call he made was proof Sam wasn't cut out for it, and Sam's sick of it.

"He hasn't done anything to me," he says. The look Dean gives him is a mixture of his own anger and hurt.

"Sam," he warns, "don't tell me that, because right now I'm not even considering that you went behind my back about this on your own."

"He hasn't hurt me," Sam insists, "and he isn't going to hurt anyone else. You said it yourself, all we did was take out a leviathan."

"So, it's we," Dean turns that on him quick as a whip. "Is that how he got juiced back up? You let Satan take the wheel?"

"No!" Sam says, and though he knows it would be a poor idea right now, arguments as for why he'd be perfectly fine with letting Lucifer in, why that was his choice, not Dean's, circled around his head, threatening to burst out.

"Where is he?" Dean demands.

"He's not here," Sam lies.

"Bullshit." Dean turns to root him out, and Sam doesn't hesitate to get in his way. "Sam, move."

They've got leviathan tadpoles in their bathroom, and he can't let Dean near them.

Lucifer is stronger now than he was when this started, but he's nowhere near the archangel he once was and even if, he's still exhausted from giving birth. Sam can't lose him.

And his thoughts drift back to the leviathans in the tub, that squirming black mass that curled around Sam's hand in the water with only curiosity, not taking a bite out of his flesh. He fed them beef and they splashed about as they devoured them, but when Lucifer was beside the tub, they followed his hand back and forth peacefully. They’re hungry but they aren’t mindless. They're-

They're Lucifer's babies.

They're Sam's babies.

He won't let Dean hurt them. Lucifer has had so many children now. If Dean finds out, he might take it as his duty to wipe them off the Earth, like he's cleaning up Sam's mess.

"No."

Dean takes a step towards him. Sam feels his heart rate pick up, and he knows Dean is about to take a swing at him. That's what they do when shit clashes like this and he can almost feel it hitting him-

But instead Dean's expression breaks open, disbelieving and pained.

"Why the hell are you protecting him?" There are a thousand reasons. Sam’s not sure Dean would understand any of them, and if he’s honest, he wouldn’t blame Dean for not being able to. They’re woven deep into Sam’s soul. They’ve been like that for centuries that Dean didn’t even know him. There is one thing Dean will get, and it’s all that matters to Sam right now.

”Why can’t you trust me?” he asks in return. 

Dean doesn’t answer him, looking away. Sam doesn’t budge but he doesn’t advance either.

It’s high noon, and nobody’s drawing.

”Is that what you’ve been doing, then?” Dean asks, finally. He doesn’t sound angry. He sounds tired, betrayed. “Gearing up to kill leviathans? You had to hide that from me?” It’s Sam’s turn to look away, not even bothering to hide his guilt. He knew what he was doing, and he could have come clean long before this, avoided this scene. But here they are. And Dean can tell something else is wrong. “What did you do,” he says, like he doesn’t want an answer.

The only way the cat stays in the bag at this point is if Sam throws Dean out of the Bunker. He doesn’t want to fight Dean. If there’s even a chance, even a glimmer of a possibility he will understand… Sam’s got memories of Dean getting protective over a baby that wasn’t his, a little shapeshifter he had to know would grow into the kind of thing he killed and yet, he refused to let anyone hurt it. 

“If I show you what’s really been going on, you have to promise not to freak out.”

”I can’t promise that,” Dean says, and under his breath, adds, “I’m already freaked out.”

"You have to promise not to do anything drastic.”

"Define drastic.”

"Murder,” Sam says, bluntly, “or locking either of us up.” That’s for Dean’s own safety, really. If he even tried to trap Lucifer, it would end very badly. For Dean. 

Reluctantly, Dean agrees, “Fine.”

”And you leave whatever weapons you’ve got here.” Dean exhales heavily. He makes a show of ditching a few knives and then his gun, which he draws out, unloads, and then lays both the ammo and the pistol on the kitchen counter. Sam looks at the set and swallows down a sudden wave of nausea. It’s a bad moment to remember that he knows what it would look like for Dean to put a bullet in Lucifer’s head.

”Follow me,” Sam says and prays to whoever is listening that this doesn’t go as badly as he’s afraid it will. 

Lucifer glances up to see him when he hears footsteps, but when he sees Dean, his entire demeanor changes. Sam recognizes the look in his eyes terribly well. He’ll never forget what Lucifer looked like killing that leviathan. He stands, positioning himself between Dean and their babies, looking to Sam like he’s begging for an explanation or at least for some way to know that Sam didn’t betray his trust by bringing Dean here to hurt the leviathans. 

Sam hears the disgusted noise Dean makes and knows he’s spotted them. “What the fuck is-“ He stops himself. Sam begins to turn, an explanation halfway out of his mouth, when he’s suddenly yanked back hard. Lucifer takes a step forward, alarmed. It’s getting colder. “Those are leviathans,” Dean says, horrified, and then he’s trying to get between Sam and them, an odd reversal of the situation. 

“I know,” Sam says, and Dean looks at him like he’s crazy. “They’re harmless.”

”You”—Dean points at him—“have lost it.” He does not move from in front of Sam.

”I can prove it-“

”You aren’t proving jack shit. We’re leaving.”

”He’s not leaving,” Lucifer says, and Sam understands the sentiment but it’s the least helpful thing he could say right now. Dean looks like he’s about to run for the hills with Sam flung over his shoulder or like he’ll attack Lucifer if he moves too quickly. Sam needs to put a stop to it.

”If you let me show you-“

“No way in hell.”

”Dean,” Sam says, serious, “trust, remember?” Show me that I’m safe to let you be a part of this life, Sam wishes, come on, Dean, please. Dean curses to himself, but he lets Sam through. When Sam is beside the tub, he can hear Dean begin to rethink that choice.

”I don’t-“ Sam rolls up his sleeve and then sticks his hand in the tub. The leviathans roll and rub against him, happy to see him again. Dean is on him a second later, dragging Sam’s arm free. Lucifer looks ready to jump in, but Sam shakes his head. He needs Lucifer’s trust here as much as he does Dean’s.

Dean is checking his hand for damage. “What the fuck, Sam.” he says, panicked. “What the fuck.” But he finds no injuries. 

“I told you,” Sam says as Dean releases him, confused. He leans down and sticks his hand back in the water. The tadpoles return, wriggling between his outstretched fingers like it’s a game of croquet and they’re the balls. He withdraws his hand again and shows Dean. “See?” Dean stares at him, struck speechless. Sam gets an actually crazy idea. He takes hold of Dean’s arm.

Lucifer sidles up beside Dean, laying his hand over Sam’s. Dean resists as they pull him closer to the water and Sam can feel his muscles tense in anticipation of having to break free. His hand breaches the water’s surface and sinks among the leviathans.

Nothing happens.

”What the fuck,” Dean repeats.

”This is Dean,” Lucifer tells their babies in the same quiet voice he told them about Sam. “Sam’s brother, Dean. He…” Lucifer looks over Dean. “He won’t hurt you.” 

The leviathans brush against Dean’s fingers. After a full minute, Dean finally jerks his hand back, and Sam lets him go.

“You made baby leviathans?” he asks Sam.

”We’ve had lots of babies,” Lucifer answers, still unhelpful. Dean turns his gaze on him, mind clearly racing.

”Look, we aren’t sure how or why,” Sam interrupts his thoughts, “but… Lucifer can have the children of… of the kind of stuff we hunt.” He studies Dean’s face for any sign of danger as he tells him this. Mostly, there’s shock. “He has some influence over our children. They won’t hurt anyone, ever.”

”Our,” Dean echoes, and Sam winces. It wasn’t a slip-up, but it does make things a little harder to explain.

”Well, I help,” Sam offers. From Lucifer’s expression, he knows that isn’t even touching the whole breadth of the situation, but for Dean, at least, it’s enough.

Dean shakes his head. 

“You can’t hurt them,” Sam tells him. “I won’t let you.”

There’s an awful long pause. Sam can hear the leviathans splashing around. 

“I still think you’ve lost it,” Dean says, “but if you’re sure you have control over this…” 

It isn’t everything Sam hoped for or the disaster this could have turned into. It’s a start. It’s enough. They can work through this.

Dean looks back at the leviathans again. ”Can I?” Lucifer shares a look with Sam before he guides Dean’s hand back into the water. A breath shoots out of Dean as the leviathans swarm around his fingers again, and he whispers, “Shit…” but he doesn’t pull his hand away this time. He turns it over in the water, cupping one wriggling leviathan in his palm. It squirms, dirtying his hand with a little of the gooey black film forming over its skin. Dean makes a face, mouth twisting, but he strokes the leviathan's back with his thumb. It scrapes its harmless little teeth along the side of his fingers before wiggling right out of his grasp and back into the bath with a splash. There's far more in his expression than disgust.

Sam thinks that maybe Dean sees a little of what Lucifer and him do.

Dean will need some time to get used to the idea of this, and that would be fine if they had it.

Sam notices when Lucifer starts getting distracted. Irritable. The leviathans have left the nest (Ready to be on their own, but still tiny. They'll take a few hundred years to grow to full size, apparently.) and Lucifer is being called back to his role. That he tries to abstain for Dean's (and by extension, Sam's) sake to keep the peace is sweet in theory, but in practice, not such a good idea. If Lucifer won't go looking for his next sire, than Sam will do it for him. Everything he ever learned to hunt the things going bump in the night, he now sets to work finding a monster for Lucifer to have a roll in the hay with. He finds one that's not to far away, but when he tries to present the newspaper clippings of odd occurrences to Lucifer, he gets the devil pressing him back against a table in the library, silencing him with his mouth.

"I'm trying to help you," Sam murmurs when Lucifer breaks the kiss, and Lucifer tries to shut him up again with another kiss. Sam ducks his head to avoid it. "You're not going to distract me."

Lucifer huffs.

"It's going to keep happening," Sam says, "and sooner or later, he'll have to get used to it." Point made, he does let Lucifer kiss him again.

"I don't think your brother is eager to have a litter running around the Bunker."

"And you're going to be miserable until you have one." Sam measures Dean's discomfort against Lucifer's, and Lucifer comes out on top. (Sam's not an unbiased judge. How can he be, when Lucifer looks so pretty pregnant?) Sam's hands are resting on Lucifer's hips, holding him still. Lucifer's hands come down to rest over them. Sam can see his mind whirring away behind his eyes. He's planning something.

"You're right," Lucifer admits. He's pressed close. The edge of the table pushes into Sam's legs. "I should let you help me with that. Would you give me a child, Sam?" His voice is soft, skating innocence, but the way he smiles at Sam breaks that illusion wide open. Sam sucks in a breath as the words sink in.

He's wanted this for months, and now, Lucifer is offering it as a reality.

Nothing could turn Sam on faster than that.

Sam is used to being able to haul his partners around. Lucifer's not so easy. There's a solid weight to him as he grinds against Sam, and when Sam wraps his arms around him to flip their positions and get Lucifer against the table, he resists for a moment. He's found a good spot that drags torturously along Sam's clothed cock. Sam is having a very hard time remembering why they should take this somewhere more private. The thought that Dean might not appreciate monster babies, but he'll definitely not appreciate walking in on the devil fucking Sam vanishes right out of Sam's head when he hears Lucifer moan. Sam pulls on him again and gets him turned around. He really hopes the table is as sturdy as it looks as he lifts Lucifer off his feet (He makes a noise, half a breath, surprised and excited.) and sets him on the table.

"You want one you can keep," Sam whispers. He knows Lucifer can be just as selfish as he is, but that's not a bad thing, far from it.

“Yes!” That comes out desperate, but not in the way Lucifer’s hand in his shirt or the way he drags Sam forward between his spread legs is. It makes sense. Lucifer doesn’t just do this for the fun of it. He wants to have children. He wants a baby to hold in his arms and nurse and keep happy. He wants to protect them, to raise them, to be better than his own father in every way.

Sam knows because he wants the same thing and to have it with Lucifer. 

Sam helps Lucifer get his pants off. Sam wants to see as much of him as he possibly can. Both of their shirts end of in a tangled heap on the floor. Lucifer tips his head back so that Sam can brush his lips against the underside of his jaw. Lucifer’s stubble is prickly until it smooths out the further down Sam mouths. Lucifer’s hand comes up to rest on the back of his head as he arches against Sam. Sam bites at his collarbone to hear him groan, the pain sweetened by coming from Sam. 

Sam noses through his chest hair. He imagines Lucifer’s chest swelling up again, the relief he’s going to be begging Sam for when his milk comes in and he doesn’t have anything to feed yet. Sam takes a nipple into his mouth. He laps at it with his tongue, and it swells up in his mouth. Lucifer’s sensitive there, each quick breath urging Sam to roll his tongue over the bud again. His nipple is soaked with Sam’s spit, a few drops escaping the corner of Sam’s mouth and rolling down Lucifer’s chest. When he sucks on it, Lucifer’s head snaps back and his grip tightens on the back of Sam’s head. One long, demanding suck, relentlessly dragging on Lucifer’s sensitive nerves, and then Sam stops and lets him rest before licking his nipple again and suckling gently. Lucifer’s body recognizes the feeling of Sam trying to provide him relief, and he gasps like his milk is letting down, though he has none to give Sam. 

Sam only lets go of one nipple to move to the other, getting it hard and wet and sucking as gently as he did on the other one. Lucifer relaxes, leaning back… and back and back, Sam following him, latched on his nipple, until Lucifer is laying flat against the table and Sam is bent over him. Sam rolls his eyes, scraping Lucifer’s nipple with his teeth. 

“You’re going to make me do all the work again, huh?” Lucifer all but purrs for him. He’s a sight, lips kiss swollen and a bruise marking his collarbone and both nipples perked up from Sam’s attention. His briefs are light grey, making it obvious where he’s soaked through them already. Sam slides his hand between Lucifer’s thighs to feel it, rubbing the heel of his palm against Lucifer’s covered dick until the wet spot gets bigger.

Sam’s other hand lands on his stomach. Lucifer’s muscles tense and ease underneath as Sam touches him, pulling his stomach taut as he writhes under Sam’s hand and then relaxing again. His belly rounds out under Sam’s hand now, but it’s soft enough to squeeze, to bite down on. It’ll pull tight when he’s pregnant again. Sam lays kisses against his stomach, worshipful ones, not only meant for where their future child will grow but also for this body for being Lucifer’s home. Every inch, every curve, every mole or scar or stretch mark. This body was loved, it was given to Lucifer for love, and Lucifer loves and cares for it still. So does Sam. 

Lucifer’s treasure trail leads under his briefs. Sam is absently following it, breathing in Lucifer’s scent, when he hits the waistband. He pulls them off like he’s unwrapping a gift. Lucifer is glistening wet, his hair damp and his hole shiny. Sam takes another deep breath against the thick blonde hair, soaked in sex. He’s intoxicated by it.

Being on his knees, with Lucifer’s cock between his lips, controlling exactly how much pleasure he’ll feel… Sam has never belonged anywhere more. Lucifer pushes up his elbows to gaze down at Sam. Sam’s nose is still pressed against his hair, his tongue working Lucifer harder with slow swirls. As he plumps up, Sam can suck his cock easier. Lucifer’s thighs twitch like he wants to close them around Sam’s head, but then he forces himself to relax, opening further to Sam. 

One of these days, Sam needs to test what gets him the most worked up. Is it Sam sucking on his nipples or his cock? Sam’s tongue in his hole or his fingers? Feeling Sam inside him or rubbing their cocks together? Sam has all the time in the world to find out, and he’s almost glad that he and Lucifer could never do anything close to this in the Cage. There’s still new things to learn about him, even after all that time.

Feeling Lucifer’s cock get hard in his mouth is a treat. Sam makes sure to meet Lucifer’s eyes as he sucks. He needs Lucifer to see exactly how much he enjoys this, and when he does, he collapses back against the table, moaning loudly. 

Sam pulls off his dick. He strokes it between his fingers, trailing down along his folds with his tongue to seek out his hole. His chin is already wet. He teases the rim of Lucifer’s hole with his tongue to feel it clench around nothing. 

He could take Lucifer now, and he’d slide in easy. Lucifer’s taken bigger with less prep.

To test, he pushes a finger inside. Lucifer’s moan tinges with delight, and he clenches down on Sam’s finger hard. Sam sucks in a breath. It’s almost a threat: the moment Sam thrusts inside him, Lucifer is going to clamp down and milk as many orgasms out of him as he needs. Sam’s cock throbs, desperate to be choked out until Sam’s coming dry. Sam twists his finger, searching for that sweet spot inside Lucifer that’ll make him start trembling. If Sam won’t last a minute inside him, (with how good Lucifer feels around his finger and how excited Sam’s getting just thinking about being the one to breed him this time, he probably won’t) then he better make sure Lucifer is spoiled for orgasms before that. Lucifer lets him know he’s found it by shouting his name.

Sam adds another finger, massaging up against that spot as he keeps stroking Lucifer’s dick. He can feel the orgasm creeping up on Lucifer. His hole tightens around Sam’s fingers, and his dick pulses, twitching with every stroke. 

When Lucifer comes, Sam slows down long enough for him to catch his breath and for his hole to stop convulsing around Sam’s fingers like they have any come to give him. Lucifer’s breathing steadies again. His dick stays completely hard, though Sam knows how painfully sensitive it will be to touch right now.

Which is exactly why he starts sucking it again. Lucifer squirms under him, but Sam listens hard for any real words of protest and finds none. There’s, “Sam, Sam, too soon, it’s too much,” but not once does he say to stop. When Sam sweeps his tongue back and forth over the head, those words go away altogether, turning into a jumpy, sharp series of gasps. He starts moving his hand. His fingers press into that sensitive patch of nerves, and Lucifer must still be too close to the edge of his last orgasm because he starts shaking under Sam again, gushing over his hand.

He stops. Lucifer shivers through the aftershocks as Sam calms him down, rubbing his stomach and his thighs. He can feel muscles jumping beneath Lucifer’s skin. 

He lifts Lucifer’s legs, bracing them over his shoulders and dragging Lucifer right to the edge of the table. He’s too sensitive for Sam to touch his hole or his dick, but he has another orgasm in him. Sam pulls his cheeks apart, fingers brushing the blonde hair that runs all the way down to his ass, until he can get his mouth between them. 

His asshole flexes when Sam licks it, one broad stroke of tongue to get Lucifer nice and wet. Sam has to coax it into letting him inside. He lazily rims Lucifer, not focused as much on his pleasure for a moment, though the sound Lucifer lets out at that is low and pleased. He rides out the remnants of his previous orgasms as Sam learns each furrow that leads down to his tight asshole. By the time he’s done, Lucifer has gone limp again. His legs are crossed over Sam’s back, making a show of holding him in place that Sam could shake off with little effort. 

He points his tongue against Lucifer’s asshole. He demands entrance, and Lucifer mumbles something unintelligible in response, pushing back against Sam. Sam breaches his hole slowly, dragging in and out until the muscle loosens up and lets him lick deeper. He pulls Lucifer’s cheeks further apart to get in. His lips kiss Lucifer’s hole, his tongue inside as far as he can get it and wrecking Lucifer from the inside. He’s a lot quieter now, the first two orgasms taking the brunt of his cries, but that makes the noises Sam earns now even sweeter.

Working Lucifer up to his third orgasm through only rimming him requires patience, and Sam has plenty of it. His dick would disagree, hard as nails and more than ready to pound Lucifer into the table, but Sam ignores it. 

Lucifer’s hole flutters around his tongue. Squeeze and release, and Sam can never tell if he wants more or wants to push Sam out. Either way, Sam keeps going. The taste of Lucifer curls on his tongue, salt and skin and something else Sam can’t name.

This time, when Lucifer comes, it’s less dramatic. It’s a roll of his hips down against Sam’s mouth and an utterly satisfied sigh. 

Sam lets Lucifer’s legs slip off his shoulders. He blankets Lucifer’s body with his own, pressing his face against Lucifer’s neck. Lucifer turns his head, prodding Sam to lift his and give him a kiss. Sam shakes his head, staying firmly turned away.

”My mouth was just on your ass. You don’t want me to kiss you.” His ear is too close to Lucifer’s mouth and ends up getting nipped.

”I don’t care where it’s been.”

”That’s a good way to get sick,” Sam tells him. Lucifer nips him again.

”I won’t. Kiss me.” Sam rolls his eyes, but what Lucifer wants, Lucifer gets. 

Sam can’t help smiling against Lucifer’s mouth. He wants Sam’s baby. He wants Sam’s baby. 

He finally gets rid of his pants and boxers. (His socks, too, because unlike Lucifer, for Sam, having cold feet wins out over having to wear socks.) Lucifer gathers some of his own wetness to stroke over Sam’s cock, mixing with his precome. 

Sam is going to last an embarrassingly short amount of time if he lets Lucifer touch him for too long. He pulls his hand away, brings it to his mouth to brush a kiss against his knuckles, and then reaches down himself to position his cock against Lucifer’s hole. He grips the base in an effort to stave off coming. 

It feels pretty futile once he’s inside Lucifer. Lucifer grunts, still oversensitive. He lets Sam set the pace, and with anyone else, that would mean Sam is in control. With Lucifer already beginning to clench around his cock, any hint that Sam is in charge of this situation or of when he gets to come is thrown out the window. He thrusts. Lucifer opens for him, welcoming him in and then clamping down. 

Sam’s cock twitches and leaks, dragged closer and closer with every thrust. He tries to keep a rhythm, but Lucifer distracts him with a squeeze or a kiss. Sam drowns in him, barely allowed to breathe without Lucifer sealing their lips together again. 

Lucifer hooks his legs around Sam and drags him in. Sam groans, his balls drawing tight and his whole length throbbing with a need to come inside Lucifer.

Lucifer wrings him dry. Sam’s balls ache from coming so hard. He gives a small thrust and can feel his come slicking the way inside Lucifer. He can’t pull out. Lucifer doesn’t let him, not for another minute, milking Sam’s cock for another spurt of come he didn’t even know he had in him. Sam’s legs feel weak by the time Lucifer lets him go. He barely catches himself against the table, resting his head against Lucifer.

Lucifer plays with his hair. He twirls the long strands around his fingers. Sam shuts his eyes. His cheek is lying on Lucifer’s soft chest, and he doesn’t want to move. He wouldn’t, either, if his back didn’t start to ache from the position. They really should have moved this to a bed. Sam reluctantly stands up. Lucifer stays right where Sam put him. He’s got a hand on his belly.

Sam’s come isn’t even leaking out of him, that’s how deep he forced it in. Sam’s dick twinges, half-pleasure and half-pain. 

He really hopes that took because he’s not sure he’s going to be able to get it up again for a while.

He gathers up their clothes off the ground. There’s a few newspaper clippings lying forgotten down there, too, but Sam kicks them away. The problem is well and truly solved.

Lucifer hums. Sam looks over at him.

“There we go,” Lucifer says, and he meets Sam’s eyes with a lazy grin. “Congratulations, Sam. You’re a father.” 

“I was already a father,” Sam says, but Lucifer’s right. This is different. Sam would protect any of their children with his life, but this one is all theirs. He comes to rest his hand over Lucifer’s. There’s nothing to feel there, not yet, but soon there will be. Sam feels his brow furrow, but he smooths it out. Too late for Lucifer not to notice.

“What?”

”Nothing,” Sam lies, not fooling Lucifer for a moment and he knows it. “I’m just thinking about how it’s a shame that it’ll be over so quickly.”

”It doesn’t have to be,” Lucifer responds. “Dean will need time. Would nine months be long enough?”

”You can do that?” Lucifer sits up, stretching his spine. Sam’s eye catches on the dark bruise that marks his collarbone.

”I have no idea, but I can try.” 

“Than… yeah. Do that.” Sam says. Two birds with one stone. “I don’t want to rush through things.” Lucifer chuckles.

”Or you want me barefoot and pregnant for longer,” he says.

”No one is stopping you from putting on socks except you.” Lucifer lands his cold foot on Sam’s thigh. Sam jerks away automatically. 

Clearly, the only way to get revenge is to shut Lucifer up with another kiss. Sam’s not sure how they manage to get from the library back to his room, but that’s where they spend the rest of the day, cuddled up against each other and talking through their plans for how to raise their child.

And in a few months, Lucifer finally starts to show. Dean eyes him with suspicion until he learns whose kid it is. He doesn’t leap into easy acceptance by learning he’ll be an uncle soon, but he does ease up more. He stops staring at Lucifer as much (Sam’s sometimes not sure if that’s all because Dean thinks he might still be evil or if a little of it is how the obvious fact of Lucifer’s masculinity and the easy way him being pregnant fits into that fucks with Dean’s head.) and starts talking off-hand more about Bunker baby-proofing. 

In the meantime, they visit the children Lucifer has already had. Their baby is going to have a lot of very strange half-siblings, a family bigger than Sam ever imagined and most of them aren’t even close to human.

And maybe by the time the kid is at the same age that Sam’s dad put a gun in his hands, hunting will be a long distant memory. He hopes so. 

Lucifer sings softly to their baby, and Sam leans against him to listen, and they are going to be okay.