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By the time Lucifer’s phone starts ringing, they’ve thoroughly hotboxed Azazel’s shady van. Lucifer stretches, bumps against the wall, and relaxes again. He has Meg’s head resting on his thighs like some kind of vicious lesbian lapdog, Lilith against one side taking potshot kicks at Asmodeus whenever he looks away from her, and Dagon eyeing his other side from across the van. He’s about to stretch an arm out and let her come over (while Azazel glares at her because he didn’t have the idea to first) when a phone breaks the lazy silence. Meg mutters something foul and presses her ear against his leg, covering the other with her hand. Lucifer waits for whoever owns it to shut it off until he starts to realize that the noise is coming from him. He can’t remember which pocket his phone is in, and so it keeps ringing, leading to more annoyed groans until he finally fishes it out and flicks it open. It’s at his ear before he realizes he didn’t check the number.
“Hello, who is this?” Asmodeus mimics him, or tries to, breaking down into a coughing fit of laughter instead. Lucifer rolls his eyes and ignores him. “Anybody there?”
There’s a sniffle on the other end of the line. Lucifer frowns.
“It’s Anna,” he hears. “Can you- can you come pick me up?” Her voices pierces through his mind to crystal clear clarity. He sticks a hand out at Azazel, wiggling his fingers. He mouths ‘time’, and Azazel puts his wrist in Lucifer’s hand for him to check his watch. Like he suspected, it’s hours too early for Anna to be calling anyone. She’s supposed to be having the time of her life at prom, not crying to him over the phone.
Which can lead to only one conclusion: Lucifer’s baby sister has gotten her heart broken.
“Of course I will,” he tells her, his voice soft. “I won’t be long, don’t worry.” He gingerly begins the process of extracting himself from Lilith and Meg. It’s easier than he thought it would be, but Lilith’s close enough to his ear that she’s probably heard the whole conversation and is thinking about what she’d do if Ruby called her out of nowhere. Meg’s grouchier about moving, but she lets him go.
An actual cloud of smoke escapes the van with Lucifer’s exit. He’s still holding the phone, listening to Anna try to compose herself on the other end. “Thanks,” she says. He makes a face, bringing his shirt up to his nose. There’s no way he’s going to be able to cover that smell up.
“Did you tell Michael?” he asks as he makes his way to his car. His leg was asleep and sends prickly pain up his body as he forces it to wake up. His breath fogs in front of his face from the cold.
“No.” She tries her best to quiet a sob, and then says quickly, “I didn’t want him to feel bad. He helped me buy this dress, and-“
“Hey, hey,” Lucifer soothes, searching his pockets again for his keys this time. Is he clear-headed enough to drive? All his focus has narrowed in on getting to Anna, but there’s an unmistakable haze still lingering over him. It doesn’t really matter, he decides. She asked him to come. He’s coming. All his baby siblings have him wrapped around their little fingers. “He doesn’t have to know anything went wrong. We won’t tell him. It’s our little secret, right?”
“Right,” Anna says, calming down.
“Okay. Be there in fifteen.” He settles behind the wheel.
“Don’t speed.” He smiles.
“I won’t. Goodbye.” He hears her respond before he hangs up. He takes a deep breath. What Michael doesn’t know won’t hurt him, and coming up with an excuse for why Lucifer picked Anna up instead of him is a problem for Lucifer’s future self.
He runs at least six red lights getting to Anna’s high school.
He’s reaching for his phone again as he pulls up to let her know he’s there when he sees a twilit figure on the school steps. He squints. She’s curled in on herself, with only just enough light still scrambling to follow the sun down over the horizon to illuminate her bright red hair — someone had pinned it up, and his bet is on Gabriel — and her blue dress. Lucifer hadn’t gotten to see her in it before, but now all he can think about is how short it looks, how small the shoulder straps are, and how cold it is outside. The only other thing she has is her purse, clutched in her lap. He throws his car door open and makes his way over to her. Anna’s head pops up when she hears the noise.
“What are you doing out here? You’re going to freeze to death.” He lifts her to her feet. He’s right. Her skin is icy where he touches her. He shakes his head and shrugs his jacket off. It’s far too big for Anna, but he drapes it over her before she can protest. Not that she does. She slips her arms into the sleeves and pulls it close. The leather insulates her, and the inside is lined with his body heat to get her warm again. Something settles in him once he’s got her all bundled up.
Anna wraps her arms around herself, the sleeves of the jacket hanging over her fingers. “I was waiting,” she says, sounding exhausted.
“You couldn’t wait inside where they have a heater?” He lays an arm over her shoulders and coaxes her down the steps and towards his car. Anna sucks in a breath.
“The only places that are warm are filled with other people, and they’re- they get to have a great night while- I don’t want to be around them. And I wasn’t going to keep hiding in the bathroom!” He feels her shake under his arm. It’s barely a warning before he suddenly has he burying her face in his chest and crying again. He blinks, surprised, but then he starts shushing her. With her pressed against his front and his jacket over her back, she’s protected on all sides. He touches her tightly-styled hair, feels just how much it’s had to be restrained to keep its shape, and with delicate touches, he begins letting it down again.
She shivers as her hair falls around her shoulders. He runs his fingers through it, murmuring, “it’s alright. Let it out. No one’s watching.” No one but him. There’s some product in her hair that was helping to keep the strands in place, and it feels strange to comb through. He holds her for as long as it takes for her to calm down again, and a little after that as she stays in his arms, not crying but catching her breath. When she lifts her head, there’s makeup stained in his shirt with her tears. It’s smudged around her face, dark eyeliner rubbed around her puffy eyes and tear streaks cast down through her foundation. He cups her face and tilts it, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He doesn’t ask. She’ll tell him when she’s ready.
“Can we go now?” Anna whispers, voice still tight like the lump in her throat hasn’t gone away. He opens her door for her and tucks her dress into the seat so that it doesn’t get caught. Anna nestles into his jacket as he makes his way around to the driver’s seat again.
She doesn’t talk for a little while. He flicks on the radio, lands on one station for a minute until he hears a little too much about young love in the lyrics, then turns the dial until that’s replaced by a wailing guitar. He stops at a red light he flew past earlier, checks both ways even once it’s green, and keeps driving. His car is thrumming steadily around them, with only that occasional rattle he’s been meaning to have checked out to interrupt it. Anna hums with the song until it stops and rolls over into a commercial for laundry detergent.
“Are you high?” she asks. Lucifer’s eyes flick away from the road to her for a moment.
“No.” He’s pretty sure he’s not lying. Anymore. Seeing her upset has been sobering.
“Your jacket smells like weed,” she pushes.
“How do you know what weed smells like?”
“I go to parties.”
“Anna,” Lucifer says, summoning up his very good impression of Michael’s ‘you are in serious trouble’ voice, “have you been smoking grass with those hooligans you call friends? You know that’s illegal, young lady.” He makes her laugh, which is all that’s ever mattered, even if it’s a weak, shaky sound.
“For- for your information, I haven’t, actually.” He gives her a skeptical look, but he knows all of Anna’s tells and she’s not lying.
“Now I’m just disappointed. I thought I raised you better than this.” She shrugs.
“Never had the chance.” Whatever the case, she must not mind the smell that badly from the way she’s pressing her nose into the collar. She’s probably trying to warm her face up. He turns the car’s heater up a little more for her. It’s the whole round of commercials and two songs later before she finally speaks up again, “I should break up with him over this, right?” Lucifer has no idea why she thinks he’s a good choice to get relationship advice from, given his track record of hits such as dating Lilith disastrously for three whole years before figuring out that they’d had it backwards, that she was the lesbian and he was the guy, and then the following events that Gabriel had ominously dubbed The Breakup, The Breakdown, and The Buzzcut.
“With… him?” he asks. He loves Anna, but he also has far too many younger siblings and after a point, it gets hard to keep track of who’s dating who. Unless they're Uriel, he can never figure it out, and that's only because Uriel doesn't date anybody.
“Dean.”
“Right. Dean.” He has no idea who that is.
“The one Michael threw out of the house when he caught me sneaking him in through my bedroom window.” Lucifer’s eyebrows rise. Oh. That Dean. He knows that one. Rude but sweet enough on Anna that they all let it go, always talking about his little brother, blond, a thing for getting in trouble with authority, wears a leather jacket-
“What’d he do, exactly?” Lucifer interrupts his own train of thought. “There’s no pig’s blood on you, so…”
“I wish he did do something,” she mutters, sinking deeper into her seat. Her legs stretch out in front of her, hitching in the corner between the dashboard and the footwell. She sniffs. “He didn’t even show up.”
“Sorry.” They’re pulling into Lucifer’s neighborhood. Nowhere fancy, but that just means the rent’s low enough for him to afford it on his own. Just because Michael's in control of the family finances now and intermittently offers to float him some cash doesn't mean Lucifer wants his pity. He slows the car down to handle the bumpy street.
“I got all dressed up. I got… this.” She waves the skirt of her dress before letting it drop again and crosses her arms. “Tonight was so exciting, and he kept talking to me about it this whole week. And then I get there and he’s- he’s not. I waited, and people were staring because they knew I was supposed to be there with him, and it just got worse and worse until-“
“You called me,” he finishes for her. She nods. He parks the car in front of his place.
“We had a whole plan to…” she trails off. “Never mind.” Lucifer raises an eyebrow.
“You planned to what?” Anna won’t look at him. He grins, unable to resist the sweet taste of a secret. “What were you going to do with your boyfriend on prom night, Anna?”
“Shut up.” She gets out of the car. Lucifer follows her. She’s already making her way to the front door. “And he’s not my boyfriend! Not anymore.” She tugs on the handle, and it doesn’t budge. Lucifer lifts the keys up, letting them jangle while Anna turns and glares at him. It wouldn't be very effective anyway, but when she's underneath his jacket, it's far too cute to be intimidating.
“You’re not getting in unless you tell me-“ She stomps down the porch, flips over a rock in his garden, and picks up his spare key. He sighs. She knows him too well. “Fine. Have it your way.” He locks his car and follows her inside, shutting the door behind him. She’s drawing herself a glass of water at the sink. He leans back against the front door and watches her before continuing. “I’m not going to judge you for a little premarital sex. Do you have any idea how much of a hypocrite that would make me?”
“Some,” she says into the glass before drinking. Lucifer smiles. He crosses the room over to the adjoining kitchen to stand beside her. There’s still dishes soaking in the sink from this morning. He takes her glass from her when she’s finished and rinses it out. “I haven’t done that either,” she admits, not looking at him but at her hands clenched against the kitchen counter. Her face is screwed up like she’s trying her best not to start crying again. Lucifer stows the glass beside the sink to dry. His stomach grumbles, but he ignores it.
“Done what?”
“‘A little premarital sex’,” she echoes, “or… or anything. This was supposed to be the first time.”
And finally, all the pieces of Anna’s heartbreak have fallen into place and Lucifer can see the whole picture. He reaches out a hand and pets her hair again. He ignores the small, irrational part of him that’s pleased Dean didn’t show up, that he and Anna never got a chance. It’s ridiculous. Of course he’d be happy for Anna to get laid, she deserved to feel good, but… she didn’t. No one is going to hold him on trial for a few selfish thoughts. He leans over to kiss her temple this time. Anna’s eyes shut, and her mouth pulls into a small smile.
“Why don’t you use my shower?” he says. “Wash yourself off, and I’ll find something you can change into for the night. I’m sure one of the girls left-“ He’s already trying to remember where Meg would have tossed her clothes last time she crashed at his place, but Anna interrupts him.
“Could it be yours?” Lucifer tilts his head a little, curious. “This jacket’s really comfy… and big. I thought maybe you could let me have something else like it. Maybe something that smells like you,” and then quickly, like she’s trying to hide something, “and not like weed.” Lucifer looks her over once. He can’t tell if her cheeks are turning pink from a flush or if that’s an illusion left from her messy makeup. His eyes linger on the way his leather jacket swamps her.
“I think I can arrange that.” She hugs him again before going down the hallway. When she's not trying to hide, she's tall enough to rest her face against his shoulder. He can remember when he hit a growth spurt at fifteen, and she seemed to get so much tinier in a blink. Hopefully, she won't need him to carry her to bed like she did as a kid. He's not sure if he could still haul her around like he could when she was eight. “First on the right,” he calls after her once she's let go. She nearly walks past it, but she stops, kicks her fancy shoes off, and steps in. Lucifer takes a drink of water himself. Maybe he is still high. He feels fuzzy around the edges, warm and pleased.
As he walks past the bathroom to his bedroom, he can already hear the shower running. He picks up Anna’s shoes as he goes, laying them down in the same corner where he then kicks his own boots off. It makes him chuckle. Dirty work boots piled next pretty prom slippers. He runs a hand through his hair as he opens up his drawers, pulling out clothes for each of them. He might as well change into something more comfortable, too. He pauses with two pairs of boxer briefs in his hands, not sure if he should put one back, but he figures that if Anna doesn’t want it, she’ll ignore it. There’s also a shirt and shorts that he’s pretty sure he wore to bed last night. They definitely smell like him, and she did ask… He throws on his t-shirt and sweatpants and carries Anna’s bundle out to the bathroom.
He knocks on the door, waits a moment for an acknowledgment that he doesn't hear, and then comes in anyway. The first things he glimpses are Anna's prom dress dropped to the floor in a heap and his leather jacket carefully hung over the same rack as the towels. He doesn’t get anything tossed at him or yelled at to get out, so he covers his eyes with one hand and says, “I’m leaving your change of clothes on the sink.” He can hear the rustle of the shower curtain and Anna turning under the spray. He sets the clothes down.
“Thank you,” Anna says over the rushing water. He turns his head in her direction and nods. Blindly, he gropes around for the shoulder of his jacket and takes it with him as he leaves. He's not going to let it sit in there and get damaged by the humidity. He goes back to his room and hangs it up properly before heading out again.
He lounges on the couch, waiting for her. The shower is a calming hum on the edge of his hearing, mixing with the spinning fan above his head to send him into a stupor. His eyes drift shut, his mind slipping further and further away until- “Lucifer?” He blinks, sitting up and scratching where his shirt rode up and exposed his stomach. Anna’s eyes lock onto the patch of skin and the trail of blond hair he’s running his fingers over absently before he tugs his shirt down and she looks away. That flush can’t be make-up. She’s washed it all off, or most of it, with maybe a dark smudge or two around her eyes that stubbornly remains. Her freckles spill across her cheeks without foundation to cover them up. He looks her over. Just like the jacket, his sleep clothes swallow her up. It probably doesn’t help that these are already clothes Lucifer has worn out, stretched thin and well-loved. The neck of the shirt dips low under her collarbone. She looks incredibly comfortable and so much like she’s his.
Something wickedly close to arousal pools in his gut looking at her, knowing that she asked for his clothes specifically, that if he leaned over and breathed her in, her scent would mingle with his own, maybe even be overpowered by it. Not for the first time, he’s glad his dick can’t get hard whenever it feels like it. There would be no way to hide it in his sweats except maybe awkwardly putting a pillow over his lap.
“Feeling better?” he asks. Anna nods. She crawls onto the couch with him, ignoring that there’s a whole side full of space, and lays up against him. He puts his arm around her automatically, more than used to this kind of situation. At least she doesn’t bite, unlike some people he’s let cuddle with him before. Anna squirms until she’s comfy and then lets out a long exhale. She melts into him with each subsequent breath, relaxing more and more. Her hair is a little damp, but she’s washed the product out of it, leaving it smooth and soft under his fingers. “Want to watch something? Scream? Halloween? Jaws?”
“Scream’s good,” she mumbles, but before he can move to put the DVD in, she goes, “Wait, Jaws?”
“Make up your mind,” he says, twirling her hair around his finger. She’s all warmed up from the shower, and now it’s Lucifer’s fingers and his poor circulation trailing coolly over her skin.
“I already feel like it’s Shark Week. Why not.” Lucifer is loathe to drag himself out from under her, but he can’t reach the DVD player otherwise. Anna whines softly at the loss, but then she flops down into the spot he was just sitting on and buries her face in it. She lays there on her stomach. His too-big shirt rides up her back, exposing the little strip of boxer brief elastic visible under her shorts, and Lucifer swallows upon seeing it. He turns back to the TV, back to the movie, and does everything in his power not to think about Anna wearing his underwear. He doesn't do a very good job, and he's left thinking about the identical pair he’s wearing now, the way he can feel his dick rubbing against the inside fabric of it, how many times he must have worn those same ones that are now on Anna. The fact that they’re a clean pair doesn’t do anything to stop his mind from racing.
The main menu of Jaws breaks the silence and brings his attention back to where it should be. He goes back to the couch, remote in hand, and nudges Anna’s head. “Make room.” She mumbles into the cushion, but she gives him a little space. It’s all part of her plan to lay on him again, but Lucifer doesn’t mind. She’s right where she should be, close enough for him to shower with affection.
Eventually, she snickers. “What?” he asks.
“You still smell like weed.” He rolls his eyes.
“It’s a clingy scent. Wait till you get it all over you, and then you can come make fun of me. Only after you go through sneaking back into the house while you reek of it.” Anna’s quiet a minute.
“I did have a chance to,” she admits. “I didn’t take it.” Lucifer pauses in petting her hair, glancing down at her. “Dean had some and so did his friends and when they offered it to me, I... turned it down.”
“They were assholes about that?” Anna pushes herself closer.
“His friends were, a little. Dean was cool, though. He said it didn't matter, that I could do whatever I wanted. He was always so nice to me. That’s why I thought I could trust him. Stupid mistake.”
“His mistake,” Lucifer corrects. “You’re beautiful, and you’re smart, and you’re better than anyone deserves.”
“You think so?”
“I know you are,” he says. “You’re my favorite baby sister for a reason.” Anna snorts.
“Liar. You said Rachel was your favorite.” Lucifer rubs his thumb along her cheek.
“Fine. I can’t choose. I love all of you more than you could ever imagine. I want to give you everything”—Anna’s eyes flutter shut as he strokes the side of her face.—“so you can be my favorite for a night.”
“I’d like that.” Her cheek is so hot under his fingers.
“Why didn’t you smoke some?” he asks.
“You’ll laugh.”
“Probably. Tell me anyway?”
“Because I don’t know how, and I didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of them,” she answers. “They were rolling them up, and they all knew how to do it so easily. I had no idea how to not fuck up.” Lucifer leans back against the couch, listens to the voices from the TV absently. He’s not sure he’s ever actually paid attention to the plot of this movie. Why would he when there’s a shark?
“Well, that’s got an easy solution. You could have asked me. I’d only tease you a little bit,” he says. "What kind of brother would I be if I didn't teach you how to roll a perfect joint?"
He's not expecting her to answer, "You would?"
"Um." He runs over all the possible consequences of his actions before deciding, again, that he really doesn't care that much. Besides, it's still a problem for future him, and present him already got his high interrupted once. Michael's going to kill him anyway for picking up Anna without informing him first; what's a little instruction on top of that? "Sure. I might have some around here." He knows he does. Anna is sitting up again, looking at him wide-eyed and excited. There's still a little red around her eyes from crying, and Lucifer would do anything to cheer her up and make her forget all about Dean. Finding where he put everything takes a few minutes, but soon he's coming back to Anna with his hands full.
The first words out of her mouth are, "Is that a Bible?"
The second are, "Are those dad's old business cards?!"
"And I'm almost out of them, so I'll fold your filters for you, thanks," he answers, snappier than he intends. Anna looks a little taken aback, but then the Bible is within her reach and she's snatching it up to check the inside of the cover.
"Michael gave you this for your birthday."
"Michael gives me one every birthday. They get a lot of use." Anna laughs. She's flipping through the pages, seeing which one's he's already torn out. Most of Genesis is gone. It usually goes first, except for that one time two years ago when Michael got him a copy with some of the apocryphal books and how could he not light up with the antichrist? She leafs through the book as he makes the filters. He's never let anyone else touch it before, definitely hasn't let them smoke the pages with him. The filters were out of the question; he's pretty sure no one even knows he still has a stack of those business cards in a drawer or that he's been using them for this. This is Anna's inheritance, too, though. He wants her first time to be special. "Old or New Testament?" he asks.
"New," she answers as she passes the book over to him. Lucifer thumbs through it, considering passages. He smirks as he rips out a bit from Matthew and passes it over to her. She reads aloud, "Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God." She looks up at him with narrowed eyes.
"All these things will I give thee," Lucifer responds, second-nature, "if thou wilt fall down and worship me." Anna rolls her eyes.
"You wish, Satan. Now show me how to smoke." Lucifer laughs, flattens the paper he's given her. It's just thin enough to be perfect joint material, as he discovered back when he was fifteen.
"You're not very good at this whole 'resisting temptation' thing." He places the filter on one end. Anna is watching him studiously, as though there's going to be a test at the end of this. He gives her the Ziploc bag only barely half full of their main ingredient. "Fill her up." Only a few moments later, he's scrambling to say, "Not that full!"
"You didn't tell me how much!" Lucifer should be a little more annoyed at what's being wasted, falling away into the book gutter or sprinkling down onto the couch cushions, but Anna looks so determined to get it right that he can't hold anything against her. She’s adorable. Besides, Andy practically gives the stuff away for free. "Is that good?"
"It'll be fat, but you can roll it." He shows her how to fold the paper and demonstrates how to roll it between her fingers. Anna holds it too tightly and ends up squeezing out a puff of ground-up cannabis out the open end of it. Lucifer laughs. "It's alright. We'll pack it. Seal it up now. Lick it like an envelope." Anna sticks her tongue out, wetting the open end of the joint and then folding it over again. Lucifer takes it from her. He uses the end of the drawstring of his sweatpants to pack it tight, replacing a little of what Anna squeezed out and then presenting the finished project to her.
"Is it good?" she asks.
It's lumpy. "It's perfect," he tells her. "You're sure you're ready for step two?" Whatever hesitance there had been at making the thing is gone when it comes to smoking it. She could be the mirror image of himself at her age, though with a lot more hair and a lot less piercings.
"Give it." She's eager. He holds the joint out of her reach.
"Hold on, let me show you how it's done first. I'm the teacher here." Anna settles, forcing a pout when she clearly wants to grin at him. With practiced motions, he flicks his lighter open with one hand and sparks it twice before it catches. He holds it to the end of the joint until it begins to smolder. He brings it to his lips. Lucifer breathes it in, and as he exhales and watches the smoke curl above them before fading away, he feels a moment of reverence. It's fleeting, but it's closer than he got to God through his whole childhood. He shuts his eyes, and when he opens them again, it's gone. He hands the joint over to Anna. "Just like that."
Anna's hands shake a little. She brings the joint to her own lips, wraps them around where his just were, and when she tries to breathe in as deeply and steadily as he did, she instead ends up coughing her lungs up. Lucifer pats her on the back. "That happens to everyone the first time," he reassures. He takes the joint from her again, filling his lungs up again as she recovers. When he's ready to pass it over, she reaches, and then she pulls back before she can take it. His expression softens. Her eyes are watering from the force of her coughs, and another roughs up her throat on the way out. All of a sudden, teaching her to smoke falls far under his priority to keep her comfortable. "We don't have to do this."
"I want to," she insists, but she still doesn't reach for the joint. She coughs again miserably.
"Anna, do you trust me?" She doesn't hesitate when she nods. Her faith in him has never wavered, and he will not betray it. "Then let me show you an easier way to do this."
"Easier?"
"Yeah. I do it all the time for my friends." He tries not to think about what usually happens afterwards, the other help he ends up giving them. "I'm going to take a drag, and when I exhale, I want you to breathe in." Anna's frowning, but she nods. Lucifer takes a deep breath before he even brings the joint to his lips again. He pulls in the smoke, feels it rest in his lungs. He holds it there, placing his other hand against Anna's cheek to keep her still before he leans over to her. Her mouth falls open. She drinks the smoke from his exhale, though some escapes, curling around her like a foggy halo. Their lips are barely a centimeter apart, but Lucifer holds that distance. He knows it won't be as effective like this, but he has to enforce some boundary between them. As the oldest, that's his job. Getting her high for the first time is corruption enough. "Hold it," he murmurs, and Anna does for the count of, "one, two, three, exhale." The smoke leaves her with only a little cough this time, and pride swells in his chest for her. He's still holding her cheek. "Do you want more?"
"Please," she breathes, her excitement back. Lucifer chuckles. He takes another hit and feeds her the smoke. Anna's fully turned to him on the couch, one knee tucked against the cushion and her other foot braced on the floor, her hands resting in front of her. One touches Lucifer's chest the second time he leans in. The third time, overeager, Anna's lips press against his. He stops himself from pulling back, at least until he's let her take all the smoke from his lungs. When he does, and moments later, the smoke billows from her lips, it comes with a, "sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"No," he stops her, "no, you're actually doing it right." The phantom heat of her mouth lingers against his. "You'll get more smoke that way." It's strange. She doesn't look that apologetic, but before he can think about that for much longer, she wraps her hand around his wrist and brings the joint back to his mouth.
"Keep going?" He can't deny her anything. He smokes for her and brings her mouth to his, cupping the side of her face, his fingers sliding around the back of her head into her hair. He can feel her breathe humid into his own mouth, and he answers it with his exhale. The smoke leaves him, its gentle possession slipping through the tunnel of Anna's throat and sinking deep inside her. He doesn't want to pull away, but she needs to let it back out again. He breaks the contact first. Anna breathes out, her eyes shut, as he licks his lips.
"Were you wearing lipstick?" he asks. She nods. "Was it flavored?"
"Yeah. Why?"
Lucifer licks his lips again. There's hints of artificial sweetness on them. Anna flushes.
"You did that for Dean, too?" Whatever filter he has always has trouble surviving a few hits. Anna's cheeks are the prettiest shade of pink, and her lips are parted, a wisp of smoke escaping them.
"I wasn't planning on kissing anyone else," she answers. Lucifer hums. There's a wave of pure contentment rolling over him. He's home, he's got his baby sister in arms reach, and he's going to get her so high she forgets she was ever upset.
"You still haven't. This isn't kissing." He takes another drag. The joint is burning low. That'll give Anna another chance to improve her rolling skills. She presses into his hand on her cheek as he pulls her in. Their lips press together again, a seal keeping all the smoke flowing out of Lucifer and right into Anna. She makes a noise against his mouth, pushes their lips harder together. When they part, she exhales heavily, a flood of smoke filling the air around them before it begins to dissipate.
"It's not kissing," she echoes, "not really." He nods.
"Doesn't count." Anna's eyes fall to the roach as Lucifer lets it fall before it singes his fingers. He grinds it to submission in the carpet. It's had worse fall into it.
"Are we rolling another?" The sensible part of Lucifer knows he should say no. That they should wait to see how hard this much hits Anna before adding more on top of it.
But she looks so eager for more. And he has such a hard time telling her she can't have what she wants. And her lips look so warm.
"One more." Anna leaps on the chance to show what she's learned. Lucifer watches her work, eyes half-lidded as he lets his head loll back against the couch. Her second joint is of a much better quality than her first, nearly uniform. She raises it to her lips to lick it. He can see the verses wrapped around themselves, the devil's words around the devil's lettuce, and that thought makes him chuckle. He shuts his eyes, head falling further back. A little laughter to start coaxes even more out of him, for no other reason than that it feels good. He'd have kept going, except then there was a hand braced on his thigh and Anna following it, sitting squarely in his lap like she belongs there. Lucifer has his hands at her waist to steady her before he can think. She holds the joint to his lips, and he parts them to let it pass, lifting his own hand to keep it there when she lets go. She squirms in his lap, reaching for his lighter.
There's a line where eagerness crosses over into impatience, and Anna's stepped over it with grace. She gets the fire going, the cherry-red burn at the end of the joint that glows when Lucifer breathes in. She drops the lighter, and before Lucifer has even finished, she pulls his wrist again, the damp end of the joint yanked away from his lips, replaced by her own. Lucifer's free hand rises to the back of her head, keeping her still. Anna takes it all greedily, like she's never had a taste of rebellion. Lucifer tilts his head, a crack between their open mouths into which he whispers, "I'll give you what you need. You don't have to fight me for it." Anna exhales in response, and he doesn't even mind the smoke in his face. His fingers slip into her hair, trail down it over her neck and back. If he couldn't tell from the euphoria pouring over his mind, the way every touch tingles with pleasure betrays how well it's working. He wonders if that response is genetic. Is Anna's skin singing with ever sensation, too? From his clothes shifting over her body and his fingers following down her spine.
From the way she arches her back, he thinks it is. He laughs again, strokes his way back up her spine, and gets a giggle from her, too.
He trades breaths with her, back and forth. Sometimes, they forget to pull apart after the first exchange. It doesn't seem to matter much. It all feels good.
Anna is smiling and laughing, pressed against him every minute she isn't trying to take the air from his lungs. If her eyes are bloodshot now, it's not from crying.
"And I was going to spend the night with Dean," she says. He can hear her smiling. It makes every word lighter. "I like you better."
"No regrets?" Anna drops her face into his chest. She keeps doing that. She must like it there. All the better for him, as he huffs, amused, and tips his head down to place kisses against her scalp.
"None," she mumbles. Lucifer raises an eyebrow.
"Liar, liar, p-"
"What are you, twelve?" Lucifer purposefully takes a puff and blows it in her face before she can lock their lips together. She pouts furiously.
"That's no way to speak to your elders."
"So you admit you're old?" He's about to do it again, but Anna's quicker on the draw. How can he stay annoyed when she still tastes sweet?
"Twenty-five is not old. You're just a baby." He kisses her nose. "My baby sister." Her flush is back. "Who's going to tell her big brother what's wrong, so we can go back to feeling good."
"It's stupid," she mutters. "I never bet on me and Dean lasting past high school. I never even thought we'd make it past next week. I knew how he was before we got together, and I thought I could handle it, as long as I got something out of it, too." Lucifer rests his hand on the back of her shoulder, massaging it as she speaks. She makes a face, ducks her head. Her cheeks are so pink. "I wanted him to fuck me, okay? I wanted to know what it was like, and the rumor was that he was good at it, too. I didn't want my first time to be a mess." The embarrassment is palpable in her voice.
"Mine was," he offers. Anna chances catching his eyes. She doesn't look like she believes him. "It was. Imagine," he starts, and he drops their second joint, used up, to the floor beside the first. He can always vacuum tomorrow. "I was... sixteen? Not out yet. Neither was Lilith. Dad was around, sometimes, and you"—he pokes her—"were an adorable nine year old." He can't help but smile. "We were in the girl's bathroom-"
"Gross."
"And I was on my period-"
"Oh my god."
"And before Lilith even got more than a finger inside me, we heard the door bang open, and there's Raphael, staring. Traumatized for life, I'm pretty sure."
"You weren't in a stall?"
"...We didn't get to the stall." Anna loses it. She laughs so hard he can feel it through his own chest. He talks over the noise, "just so you know that whatever you were imagining could go wrong, it could always be worse."
"I don't think Dean was going to fuck me in the school bathroom." She considers it for a minute. "Maybe in the back of his car."
"Terrible spot for a beginner. You dodged a bullet. The backseat is never as big as you think it is."
"If you have so much experience, then why don't you fuck me?" Lucifer's world grinds to a halt. Anna's easy smile vanishes, and she starts to pull back. Her words are ringing in his ears, but all Lucifer can think about is how upset she looks. The line between taboos seems an easy one to cross when she's the one asking. Lucifer steadies her, hands on her waist. His mouth feels dry.
"I could," he says, aiming for casual but coming out soft. Anna's eyes widen. "If that's what you want. I would make sure your first time is a good one."
Anna doesn't answer him, but when he pulls her closer, she comes. "Is that what you want?" he repeats.
Michael is going to kill both of them.
Lucifer takes her chin in his hand and turns her head. She gasps when he kisses her jaw. It makes his lips tingle, and then it's more sensation-seeking than anything, kissing down towards her ear, licking and nibbling at her skin. Anna gives him more room, exposing more of her jaw and neck to his mouth to explore. Her pulse is beating as fast as his own. Her neck much more sensitive from the way she starts squirming. He bites gently, sucking to leave a bruise. She rolls her hips, and whatever part of him exists that should talk him out of this is silent when he pushes his thigh up a little, giving her something solid to grind on. "Tell me you want this, Anna. I don't want to hurt you." He kisses her shoulder. "I'll stop. Just tell me no, and I'll stop."
"Please, brother," she says instead. The way she says it... Not like she's surprised at her own words or trying to make him happy, but out of breath, as though she thinks this might be a dream. With how fuzzy the world outside the two of them feels to Lucifer right now, it might as well be. He runs his hands down her sides.
"Do you like that?" he teases. Anna whines as his hands slip up under her- under his shirt. She's nice and warm underneath. "You want your big brother to deflower you?" He knows what he wants. She's already pressed so close to him that he can feel her chest against his. He distracts her with a little bite that'll bruise come morning as he cups one tit. He can see the outline of his hand under the shirt covering her. Anna arches into it, rubbing her nipple against his palm. "I think you do. Why else would you come in here dressed like this, all easy to touch," he says, circling her nipple with his thumb while he feels out just how soft she is, "sitting in my lap, trying to get me high." He wants to get hard so bad, but that would require him to stop touching her and get a hand between his legs to prepare himself. His left hand surrounds her other tit, and he knows his dick is going to have to wait.
"I trust you," she says, and there's a little more honesty in that than he's expecting. He places a softer kiss against her throat. "And- Your hands feel really good." He smiles.
"Ever let anyone feel you up?"
"A few times." He pinches her nipple harder than is necessary. She bites back a yelp, but then she's focused in on him, seeing through him as easily as he does her. "Are you jealous?"
"Very," he admits. There's no point in lying. Now that he's had a taste of one of Anna's firsts, he wants the rest of them. He's furious they aren't all his to hoard, but at least, he'll have this, her first high and her first fuck. His corruptible baby sister. He pulls one of his hands away to the bottom of her shirt where he begins to roll it up. Anna reaches down to pull it off completely, but Lucifer stops her. "No, don't. You look good in my clothes." All he wants is to drag the shirt up high enough that her boobs are out there in the open. He takes them in, smiling as he realizes she has freckles there, too. He wants to kiss each and every one of them, and who's going to stop him? He bows his head. Even his tongue sliding along her skin makes her breath catch. His piercing catches against her nipple, lips pursed around it to suck. Anna's hand lands on the back of his head, tangled in his hair as she pants.
"Lucifer," she says, voice thready, and he pulls off her nipple.
"Big brother knows all the tricks," he says, lapping at her nipple again. She smells good, like his clothes, his soap, his weed. He buries his face between her tits, nosing the channel that leads up to her sternum. Anna's hand pets restlessly through his hair until he looks up at her, licking her breast again. Anna's eyes are on his tongue for a moment, but then they slide away, and he feels her fingers dance over his ear. "What?" he asks.
"It's pretty," she answers. She traces the piercing in his upper lobe. He has so many more not in right now, but he rarely takes out the little snake circling his earlobe, or the piercing through his tongue that makes her shiver at the feeling of warm metal against her skin.
"Do you want one?" Her mouth parts a little in unquestionable desire. "I can bring you to where I get mine done. Where do you want it, your ear, your nose, your lip?" He punctuates each one by petting that part of her face. Anna licks his finger when it lays on her lip. His eyes drift lower again. "Or right here?" He latches onto her nipple again, teasing it with her teeth. "If you think you're sensitive now, just wait." He shouldn't have said that out loud because now he can't get the image out of his head. She'd look so pretty like that.
"I've been thinking about it for a while."
"How long?"
"Since you started showing up with a new one every other week." Lucifer feels so pleased with that answer that he dives right back down to lavishing attention on her tits. The taste of her skin is intoxicating, mixing with every other sensation until he's dizzy. He's not the only one. Anna is breathing heavily, swaying as he lets her go again. He cups her face and pulls her mouth to his, sharing breath again, only this time he tastes more of her as his tongue ventures into her mouth. Anna makes a noise like she wasn't expecting it, but when she sucks on his tongue and he groans against her, she finds herself enjoying it very quickly.
"Well then, we should book you a..." He's reaching down between her legs where she's grinding on him, and his voice trails off as he feels a small damp patch on her pants. His heart skips a beat. His hand is down her waistband before he can think, cupping her through his boxers, and he groans again. She's completely soaked, like she's been dripping since her first hit. "Oh, God, Anna." She rubs herself on his hand, squirming to get her clit positioned against his palm. Lucifer's mouth is already watering, and he's pretty sure that if he doesn't get it down there quickly, he's going to die. "Can I eat you out? Would you like that?"
“You’ll do that?” she asks, and Lucifer laughs against her throat as he nibbles down it. She won’t stop grinding down into his hand, and he can feel her arousal ruining his boxers.
“For hours,” he lets the word drag out for emphasis and feels Anna’s thighs clench around his hand. “There’s nothing I like more, except maybe these.” He ducks to kiss her chest again, and without being asked, she arches her back for him, so eager.
“Then yes, I want it,” Anna says. Lucifer licks her nipple lazily, not moving.
“Use the right words,” he tells her. There’s a moment of silence, and he thinks he’s going to have to tell her what to say. (Something he’s not opposed to doing at all.)
“Lick me open,” Anna says, unsure and looking for approval. When he sucks on her nipple, her confidence grows, or maybe her need to finally come overtakes whatever nervousness was left, “get on your knees and eat me out. Until- until I can’t think.” Lucifer lets her go. He knows he’s smiling wider than the Cheshire Cat but he can’t help himself.
”One more,” he prompts, “the magic word, Anna.”
She licks her lips. “Please.”
The only part of this Lucifer dislikes is that he has to push her out of his lap and back against the couch. Anna flops back against the cushions. He drops to the floor, spreading her legs. They wiggle her pants off together. It makes Anna laugh again, and he turns that into a gasp but licking up his damp boxers. He can taste her through the fabric, feel the outline of her folds and swollen clit.
”Oh, god,” she says. He laps at her clothed clit. The boxers are a lost cause; a little spit won’t hurt, especially when it makes Anna squirm. “Lucifer, take them off.”
”I’m not hearing a please,” he teases, sinking to press his tongue in. Her holes lies behind the fabric wall, and he can’t enter it. Anna swallows. He looks up, but instead of her capitulating, she narrows her eyes down at him.
”Lucifer, take them off.” That’s an order. He’s not the only one good at mimicking Michael’s tone. Lucifer’s eyes widen, and the arousal trapped in his gut, desperate to spread through a cock he hasn’t paused to harden, boils over.
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, pulling his boxers off of her, unable to take his eyes off of her face as she realizes he’s obeying. Her mouth hangs open a little, and, shakily, she continues,
”Good. Now, eat me out.” It’s a little less sure, but Lucifer encourages it, kissing up her thigh. She steadies her voice, sinking a hand into his hair. Lucifer sucks more hickeys, more claims, where no one but him will get to see them. He wants her to feel how bruised her thighs are every time they brush against each other tomorrow. “Lucifer!”
”You’re so impatient,” he says, like every order she gives, no matter how new she is to it, doesn’t make him want to bury his face between her legs until she’s shaking. “Do you want it that bad, little sister?” Anna nods. “You feel wound up and needy? Every touch making it worse?” Another nod. “That’s the high talking. It feels so good, doesn’t it?”
”Yeah,” she sighs as he bites her thigh again, gently.
“It gets better.” Lucifer spreads her folds with his fingers. She’s pretty, red hair curling around her lips, so wet that he can see it dripping down onto his couch cushion, leaving a stain that he can’t bring himself to care about. He leans in to kiss her clit. It burns with need against his lips. Anna grunts quietly.
“Do you touch yourself?” Lucifer asks, and she sucks in a breath, all the answer he needs. “Show me how you like it.” Anna’s fingers clench against the couch, hesitating until he coaxes, “I need to know how to take care of you. Show me how you rub your pretty clit.”
Anna’s fingers dip down. She circles her clit. “Mm,” she tries to hold the noise back, “like this. That- that feels so good.” She spreads her legs wider, rubbing faster. “Oh, oh,” and Lucifer is almost doesn’t move fast enough to stop her from rubbing herself to an orgasm too quickly. He pulls her wrist away, and Anna whimpers. Her clit pulses needily.
“That’s mine,” he tells her. If he’s going to let himself be greedy about her, then he wants everything.
Anna breathes out heavily. “Then fuck me.” He smiles. That’s how he can teach her to be bossy, tease and deny until she finally takes.
Lucifer licks her clit. He slides his piercing over her, warm, smooth metal. Anna giggles with lazy delight at her orders being followed. She tastes better than he imagined. He sucks, making her legs shut around his head. He pushes them apart again.
His tongue travels the length of her slit, from her hole to her clit. He really could sit down here for hours. He has before. He tends to lose time, high and eager to please, eventually rising back to clear awareness with a sore jaw and a very satisfied partner. If not for how badly he wants to fuck Anna, he would give her that. Instead, he prepares her. She thrusts up against his tongue inside her.
”Do you want to feel my fingers fucking you?” Lucifer asks. Her own are trying to sneak back to her clit, and he takes her hand and slides it under her thigh, giving her the job of holding herself open for him. Anna’s fingers dig in until her skin pales around them.
”Yes,” she answers, “I want you inside me.”
”Soon,” he promises.
”Now.” Stubborn little sister, he thinks affectionately. One of his hands sinks between his legs to massage his soft cock.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says. “I’m going to open you up slowly. I’m going to get you used to being full, and then, when you’re loosened up for me, I’ll let you feel my cock.” Anna tenses for a moment, but she takes a deep breath and relaxes again. “You don’t have to do it,” Lucifer reminds her, softer.
“No, I do. I want it.” Anna squeezes her own thighs as Lucifer licks her soothingly, replacing her anxiety with pleasure. “How much is it going to hurt?” Lucifer’s gaze flies up.
“If it hurts, I’m doing it wrong.” He kisses her thigh. “You’re only going to feel pleasure.” He means it. That’s why he tongues her hole open slowly, even as Anna gets more impatient and demanding, forgetting her fear to order Lucifer to fuck his fingers inside her. It’s tempting. He can feel her heat around his tongue, but he drags it out longer. When he finally pushes a finger inside her, it sinks so smoothly that even he’s surprised. Her pussy wants him to fill it up.
With another finger, he spreads her. His fingers are larger than hers, longer, and he reaches parts of her she never could with her own hand. Parts of her that might never have been touched by anything, a though that pleases him deeply. (Unless she had a favorite hairbrush she found another use for, but the mental image of her desperately filling herself with a brush to get off is so arousing, he can’t even be mad. He’ll have to teach her about toys next.)
(He’s not even surprised to realize he’s thinking about a next time. How could he survive only having this once?)
Every touch to her clit makes her produce the most delightful sounds in response. Her moans are breathy, well-practiced to keep anyone else from hearing. He should know. He used to do the same, all too aware that Michael might come into their shared bedroom halfway through Lucifer getting off. Lucifer perfected the art of quiet fingering, but he’s also quickly learned how to make someone break that habit. All it takes is the right pressure on her clit, the right angle to rub his crooked fingers against, and she cries his name to the ceiling above.
If he had the time…
He has to keep his eyes on the goal. (No matter how tempting the idea of making her squirt for the first time is. Next time. That’ll belong to him, too. All of her will belong to him.) Anna’s too worked up to take another finger, squeezing tight around the ones he’s already fit inside her, and so he pushes and sucks until she melts into her orgasm, arching her back and then collapsing into the couch again. She’s nice and relaxed once her hole stops spasming in pleasure, easy to work his third finger inside. She gasps at the stretch, a rush of her come covering his hand.
”You’re making such a mess,” he says. Anna releases one thigh to touch the damp cushion under her pussy.
“You made that mess,” she insists, “you made me come.”
“And I’ll do it again.” Anna shudders, her thighs tensing around his head as he licks up every drop from around his fingers. “You’re going to come on your brother’s cock,”—Anna moans, and Lucifer squeezes between his legs. He needs to be hard, and it’s torture to restrain himself even a few minutes longer for her.—“and I’m always going to have been your first. You shouldn’t have let me touch you.”
”Why?”
”Because,” he murmurs, kissing up her stomach and rising from his knees. His fingers slip out of her, making her keen at the emptiness. “Now, I have to ruin you for everyone else. I have to make sure no one ever fucks you as well as I can.” Anna is looking at him with pure adoration in her eyes, legs still spread, one tit covered by his shirt but the other absently massaged by her wandering hand. Her other hand slips down, her slim fingers not nearly enough to satisfy the ache he left her with, but she plunges them in as she watches him strip.
Testosterone treated him well. He can tell she likes what she sees, her eyes lingering on the tattoos she hasn’t gotten a good look at before now. He runs his hand down his happy trail to the bulge his dick makes in his boxers. Anna looks confused for a moment as he pulls them off, and then her eyes go wide with barely contained excitement, her fingers moving faster as she stares at his dick. He chuckles at her expression. It’s very nice, but it’s nothing special-
“Fuck,” she moans, “I didn’t know you had a dick.” Oh. Lucifer cups his soft length and the balls underneath. He keeps an eye on her expression as he squeezes his balls, feeling them swiftly pump him to hardness. Anna can’t pull herself away, transfixed by the growth. Lucifer reaches for her hand and places it against his forearm. That way, she can feel the scar. It healed well, faded and tattooed over, but if he can feel the difference, than so will she.
“It was worth it,” he tells her,”every penny.” She’s never seen anyone’s dick before, not this close, and he wouldn’t be upset if she was uncomfortable. (He’s lying to himself, of course he would be, but he would never let her know. It’s her first time. She’s allowed to be awkward.) He doesn’t have to worry about that. Anna looks like she’s in Heaven. Her hand drops from his forearm to reach for his cock, only pausing to look up at him for his consent, a quick nod, before she wraps her hand around it. She doesn’t stroke, only holds it, feeling the weight and the heat of his erection.
She frowns, and then she looks up at him again.
”You know that Michael thinks you wasted your inheritance on drugs, right?” Lucifer laughs loudly.
“This was a better investment,” he manages. Anna’s hand skims down his shaft, a little too dry to feel good. “Hold on. Let me show you something.” She pouts about having his dick taken away from her, but he’s not doing this without lube. The familiar sensation of spreading it over his length makes him groan in the back of his throat, unable to resist a few extra strokes even once he’s covered.
”Lucifer!” Anna demands. He glances over at her, purposefully stroking himself for her to watch. He considers standing in front of her again and letting her explore his dick like that, but he misses the weight of her in his lap. He hasn’t sat down for longer than a second before she’s on top of him again, her wet pussy pressed to his thigh. “This is mine,” she says, as possessively as he had claimed her orgasms earlier, and she wraps her hand around his cock again.
”Yes,” he agrees. The angle is clumsy, but her enthusiasm is unmatched. “You can have my cock as much as you want.” He wraps his arms around her. Her breath comes in small pants against his neck, and her hair tickles his chest. Anna leans closer, her ass moving in tight circles to rub her clit on his leg. “My sweet baby sister,” he moans for her as she adjusts her grip for longer, tighter strokes, “growing up to be such a slut.”
“I- I got it from you.” Her voice trips over one long drag up his thigh. She’s marking him with her own scent.
“Then let me in,” he says. “Let me fuck you. I’ll feel so good inside you, buried up to the hilt-“
”Lucifer.” She grinds down on him faster.
”The thick head pushing deeper than anything you’ve ever felt. Making you mine, forever. Always going to belong to me.” Anna interrupts him with a kiss. Her tongue seeks his, tasting the piercing that caused her so much pleasure. He holds her hips still as he shifts. He lowers her to feel the head of his cock pressed to her hole, so tight and hot and right there, an inch, a little pressure, and he’d be inside, but he doesn’t move. Anna holds his cock, and slowly, she lowers herself against it, letting it push up through her folds until it rests against her clit.
”You’re very lucky, Anna,” he tells her. She humps his cock.
”Why?”
“Because I can’t knock you up. You can have a bare cock inside you for your first time. If you want. I have condoms over with the lube-“
”I want to feel everything,” she says, as greedy as he is.
“Right now?”
”If you don’t fuck me, I’ll…” Her threat falters. He smiles.
”You’ll what?” Anna looks down at his dick. She slows her movements, presses it to her hole again, and before Lucifer can react, she sinks down on it. There’s a little resistance, but then it pushes through. “Fuck, fuck, Anna,” Lucifer groans, forcibly stilling her. She wriggles, trying to escape the grasp he has on her hips and rocking up and down his dick in the process.
“It’s so much,” she says, and she fights to get another inch inside her.
“Anna, I’m the one who needs to adjust, hold still.” She does, reluctantly. He forces himself to breathe and not to think about the hot wet clench of his baby sister’s pussy around his cock, how needy she is for it. It’s hard when he can hear her quietly whining for more. “Does it hurt at all?”
”No. It feels… I’m so full.” She squeezes him. Lucifer lets her sink down more. “Oh, god.” He fits her perfectly. He might as well have bought this dick specifically to pleasure her. Anna squirms out of his grip while he’s distracted, and she takes the rest of his cock without warning. Lucifer almost yells from how good it is. Anna grinds against his pelvis, trying to get an angle to rub her clit on him again.
He’s going to come before she does at this rate, and that’s not acceptable at all. This time, her grips her hips hard enough to bruise. Anna moans happily, covering his hands with her own, until he starts to pull her off. She resists, but he slides free slowly to the tune of her begging, “no, don’t, it feels amazing, big brother.”
Only when he lets her slide back down his shaft does she stop. He lets her rest for a moment.
“Is that what you want?” he asks. “Can I fuck you? Please?”
Anna doesn’t bother to answer. She rises herself this time, only to meet his upwards thrust on the way down. It jars her head back, her mouth open for all her moans to escape from. He fucks them out of her, louder than she’s ever been. She leans back a little for a better angle. Her tits bounce with each thrust, and clumsily, he shoves her shirt up again so that he can get his mouth on them. She tastes like salt now, sweat slicking their bodies with each thrust. He sucks hard in her, but the motion of his thrusts pops her nipple from his mouth every few seconds. Anna’s hands scrabble for anywhere to find purchase. One arm wraps around the back of his neck, but the other tangles in his hair, pushing him into her chest.
Lucifer could die happy here. But happier still if he makes her come.
With his mouth taking care of her breasts, his fingers are free to slide down between her thighs and play with her clit. It’s so oversensitive, but touching it makes Anna scream his name like she can’t bear to say any other words. He doesn’t relent, assaulting her on all sides with pleasure until she comes undone. Her hole squeezes and pulls around him, hunting for a load he can’t give it. Instead, he lets it pull him over the edge with her. All he can do is moan into her tits as he comes hard inside her.
His cock won’t go soft until he makes it, and though it’s enough to make him hiss with every slight movement, he doesn’t force her to get off until she’s ready. Even the slide free from her hole makes her gasp one last time. He lifts his head from her chest and Anna collapses into him, nuzzling under his chin. They both stink of sex and weed.
”Not a disaster, then,” he says, softly. She sighs.
“This is our secret, right?” she mumbles. “Michael doesn’t need to know?”
“No, to him you’re still as chaste and perfect as when he dropped you off at prom,” Lucifer tells her. He strokes her hair. “Only I get to know how hungry for cock you really are.”
Anna giggles.
”What?”
”Hungry for cock,” she says, “like I’m going to bite it off.”
”Like a shark.”
”Mhm. You probably taste good.” She snuggles closer. “Lucifer?”
”Yes?”
”I’m hungry. For real food.” His own stomach growls again, much louder than before. They both laugh at that.
“We need to order pizza, then,” he says. Anna sits up enough to kiss him.
“And cookies.” Lucifer’s mind fills from corner to corner with the mental image of Anna cuddled against him, full of sweets and well-fucked. It’s too much to resist.
”Whatever you want, little sister.” Anna makes a happy noise. He has to extract himself from her to go get his phone from his bedroom. It’s easier said than done. Anna is worse than all of his other friends combined. He makes a mental note to flip the cushions when he comes back.
He’s surprised to find Anna’s phone silently buzzing, bundled up in her purse and prom dress. He peeks at it first.
Dean Winchester. Three missed calls.
Lucifer turns her phone off.
He orders them more than they’ll both be able to eat. Halfway through, he remembers that his dick is still swinging around hard, and he awkwardly pushes it down until it softens while the guy on the other end of the call reads back his order. He hangs up, tosses his phone back, and goes to Anna.
She’s transfixed by the gore covering the TV screen. He’d forgotten there was a movie playing. He’d been very… distracted.
”You need to put your pants back on before the pizza gets here,” he tells her.
”Fine.” Lucifer watches her scoop up his pants and boxers, the ones he was wearing before he fucked her. He swallows as she slips into them. “Pizza man’s not going to want to see your dick,” she says. Lucifer gets dressed quickly because if he lingers on his thoughts, he’s going to end up eating her out again, and there’s only so many times he can flip the cushions.
A few hours later, well-fed and after another joint, Anna passes out on top of him, smiling in her sleep.
It turns out that Lucifer still can carry her to bed.