Chapter Text
He was about to rise from the sofa when a soft, almost shy voice called out from the bathroom, "Lucifer
?"
Lucifer's heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name on Blitzo's lips. He hadn't expected the imp to be so...soothing. The archangel took a deep breath and called back, "Yes, Blitzo?"
The door to the bathroom cracked open, and a cloud of steam wafted into the living room. Blitzo's voice was tentative, his eyes darting to the floor as he spoke, "Could...could you join me in the shower?"
Lucifer felt the room spin around him, his senses reeling from the sudden shift in dynamics. The imp looked up, his expression a mix of hope and trepidation, his body still flushed from the near-death experience. The archangel's vow of celibacy was as old as the very fabric of hell, but the pull towards Blitzo was undeniable, a siren's call that resonated in the deepest parts of his being.
With a shaky nod, he managed to croak out, "Sure, I'll join you." His hand found the collar of his shirt, his thumb stroking the fabric nervously as he contemplated the uncharted waters ahead. The room grew warmer, or perhaps it was just the heat of his own embarrassment.
Lucifer stepped into the steamy bathroom, his eyes taking in the small space with its chipped tiles and worn shower curtain. Blitzo had already stepped under the spray, the water sluicing over his fiery form in a mesmerizing dance. The archangel felt his mouth go dry as he peeled off his own clothes, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated. The last time he'd been in a situation like this was with Lilith, and that felt like an eternity ago.
As he approached the shower, the imp's eyes grew wide, and he let out a little gasp. "Your...your Highness," he stuttered, his gaze dropping to the growing bulge in Lucifer's boxers. "Y-you're..."
Lucifer blushed even more furiously, his cheeks practically glowing with embarrassment. "Well, of course, I'm the king of hell," he mumbled, his eyes darting away. "It's to be expected, I suppose." He stepped closer to the shower, his hand reaching for the curtain to pull it back, but then paused. "Is this okay?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Blitzo nodded, his own face a picture of desire and nerves. "Y-yes," he managed to get out, his eyes never leaving the archangel's body. "Please," he added, his voice a needy whine that seemed to cut through the sound of the water.
With a deep breath, Lucifer pushed aside the curtain and stepped into the shower, his skin sizzling as the water hit his fiery form. He moved closer to Blitzo, their bodies almost touching. The imp could feel the heat radiating from the archangel, warming him in ways that had nothing to do with the hot water.
They both stood there for a moment, frozen in the steamy embrace of the shower, their eyes locked onto each other's. The only sounds were the patter of water and their own ragged breaths. The air was thick with tension, their hearts pounding in a rhythm that matched the droplets of water as they danced on the tiles below.
.
Blitzo turned to face the tiles, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The warm water cascaded down his back, mixing with the sweat that still clung to him from the day's events. The sudden brush of something hard and hot against his ass made him jump. He looked over his shoulder to see Lucifer's crimson face, his eyes wide with embarrassment.
"I'm sorry," the archangel murmured, taking a step back. "I didn't mean to—"
But Blitzo's response was swift and decisive. He leaned back into the touch, his breath hitching. "No, don't," he whispered, his voice thick with need. "Please...fuck me."