This is my first ever Lucifer/Sam fic and I am very proud of it. That is all. ;) Enjoy!
Sam had only been here for an hour and things had picked up considerably. When he'd arrived there had been a few people here and there. Some at tables and the others sitting on opposite ends of the curved wooden bar. Now, there were people standing all around and he was starting to feel nervous. As much as he liked going out with Dean and their small group of friends, he disliked being surrounded by massively large groups of people he didn't know. The music was so loud that he could barely hear himself think.
There was a band there tonight. Usually, the small bar substituted for Drunken Karaoke and he only tolerated that when Dean pestered him enough. Claiming that he was a hermit and needed to get out in the world. Tonight he was enduring the sounds of what he guessed was some type of all female metal slash grunge band. He wasn't in to that kind of music, so he couldn't be sure.
There were four of them and typically they all wore black shirts with what he assumed was their band's logo. A white card club over a hot pink line that got thicker on one side and became smaller as the angle curved. The end of the curve was jagged and just underneath it there was a tiny white star that meant the ending tip was supposed to be sharp. Unless they were screaming in to the mic he couldn't make out what they were saying. It all sounded like a bunch of growling and whining.
He couldn't believe he had let Dean talk him in to this. Ok, so he had graduated. So, shouldn't his oh so loving brother have taken him some where that he could actually enjoy himself? Or they could have partied at home.
"Come on, Sammy," Dean had whined. "It'll be fun." Yeah, he'd had this very conversation with him like three days ago when he'd started in on the Dean's Special Brand of poking and prodding in all the right ways.
No one else had that affect on him. Brothers. You couldn't live with 'em... no that was it. "This is bullshit," he said loudly. Dean was sitting on the other side of the table and he was turned towards the band, smiling.
He couldn't hear him. Of course, he couldn't over that ear shattering crap. Sam tossed his beer tab at him. It bounced off his shoulder and disappeared from sight. Dean turned and smirked at him. Sam shook his head as he tipped his beer up to take a swig.
He was such a jerk sometimes. Sam couldn't help, but smile at the happy care free expression his brother always got when he listened to music, though. Dean always seemed like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, but when he listened to music... Sam didn't know. He seemed to go in to a special place inside him that allowed him to let it all go or maybe it was the one time he could just be and nothing else mattered.
Regardless of what the mental shift was that happened inside his brother at these times he was always happy to see it. Charlie was on Dean's side of the table, two seats down. She had one knee in her chair, an arm stretched in the air and her other hand holding her red blended drink on the table. She was hooting at the women on stage. Such a lesbian he thought, smirking at her before looking away. He jumped when a hand clapped down on his shoulder.
He immediately turned his head and smiled. "Benny," he said standing up. Benny pulled him in to a one armed hug and patted his back a few times before releasing him. He helled Sam at arms length and smiled at him. "Congratulations," he said loudly.
"Thank you man," he said, grinning widely. He grimaced as his voice got swallowed up by the music. Benny quirked an eye brow at the band before turning to lean towards him. Sam turned his ear to hear him better.
"This must'a been Dean's idea."
Sam pulled back and nodded roughly. Benny laughed and slowly shook his head.
"Come on, brother. Let's get me a drink," he said. He allowed Benny to drag him along. Dean waved to him as they headed for the bar. Benny waved back before he started maneuvering them around the bodies formed in a wide circle behind the ordering station. From the looks of it all the people around them weren't in line.
They simply were just in the way. Luckily, when they found the actual line there was only two people in front of them. Benny turned to face him. "So, how does it feel?" He asked. His eyes were sparkling and Sam knew that Benny was excited for him.
He shrugged. "Feels pretty much like yesterday. Minus the fact that I didn't have to get up early." Although, he had in fact gotten up at his usual five thirty a.m. He had always gotten up in time to take a shower before he either drew or painted for a little bit.
Then he would eat breakfast, brush his teeth, in that order and have enough time to drive to school. His body was used to it and he wasn't really sure it was a schedule he wanted to break.
Benny nodded. "I know how that is." The first person in line moved away from the bar and the person in front of them moved up. They took a few steps forward. "I'm proud of you," Benny told him.
He felt a blush creep up his neck.
"It's true," he said, studying his expression. "I dropped out. For a long while I floated around. I thought I was grown up before my time and before I realized it I'd wasted three years of my life. You did good."
It was such an endearing thing to say that it made Sam's blush darken. He smiled at him and shook his head. "Thanks, man."
"You're welcome. So, Dean tells me you're going to be trying to do something special with your art."
He grinned at that. "Yes, I want to really put some time in. See what I can come up with. There's an entry fee exhibit in three months. If my piece is chosen it'll be hosted in the local exhibit in September."
"Oh, what happens if it is chosen? Do you get paid for it or how does that work?"
"Well, the local exhibit is an actual gallery exhibit. If my piece is chosen I'll be contacted and will have to create a few more daughter pieces to go with it. Each piece will be sold individually or together and I'll get most of the percentage. Seventeen percent goes to the gallery. Two percent goes to the local high school art department."
"So, that's pretty cool."
Benny made an expression that said he was impressed. "Wow. Sounds like you did you're homework."
He smirked at that. Dean always made fun of him for his 'uuber brain' as he liked to call it and any time any one mentioned brains, book smarts, or any thing referencing to nerd he thought of him. "Yeah. I like being prepared. Plus, I like the things I do to be for a good purpose."
"So, besides me hopefully getting my art out there I will also be supporting a project that will help other aspiring artists."
"That's really, great Sam. You're brother was right. You got a good head on your shoulders."
The person in front of them turned away from the bar and they moved forward. The bartender was a woman with sharp blue eyes, brown hair styled in a low bun, and a uniform consisting of a black vest over a white button up blouse. Sam read her name tag. Naomi. It was different and he liked it.
"What can I get for you," Naomi asked. Her eyes flicked from him to Benny. The corners of her lips twitched with an unconvincing almost smile. There was something about her that stood out to Sam. Confidence maybe. She seemed to have confidence, but no, it was something else.
He continued to study her as Benny told her that he wanted something dark and strong. She seemed to materialize a small glass tumbler out of no where and twirled it until it was face up before setting it down on the bar with a resounding clunk. Quickly, she placed a few pieces of ice in it before materializing a bottle of brown liquid. Fluidly, she spun it around her open up palm until the metal tip was over the cup and the liquid began to pour out. The ice clinked around the glass as it was filled.
"Wow," a voice said behind them. He turned to see an older man in a bright purple knitted sweater. For a second, the sweater was all that Sam could look at. It was a very brave... fashion statement? For a guy.
"That was efficient," the man said.
Naomi looked over at him, her eyes immediately narrowing and Sam felt tension form in his neck and shoulders. This woman had seemed intense before, but now she was just down right scary.
The man gave her a lazy smile. When he spoke again Sam couldn't help, but study his face, trying to get a better feel for some one that seemed so at ease under that particular gaze. "Darling, you're looking a little stiff. Why don't you pour yourself a drink and take a load off?" He was practically purring the last four words.
There had also been a hint of teasing wrapped with in pointed suggestion. Was he flirting with her or purposely trying to piss her off?
"What are you still doing here?" She seethed. Her calm, professional demeanor had shattered and she was all but shaking with fury.
Sam was surprised when the man's eyes flicked to him. His heart rate increased under his gaze. He wasn't good with meeting new people. "Um..." he said feeling awkward and a little bit nervous.
"Oh, Jesus," Sam heard Naomi say and something in her tone made Sam break his eyes away from the man in front of him and turn his head to look at her. She looked disgusted and it confused him. What was her problem? Benny cleared his throat and Sam turned to look at him.
Benny looked perplexed. "I don't mean to interrupt," he said politely. Naomi seemed to remember that she was an employee and that they were customers, because her shoulders straightened and her expression melted in to that sharp eyed, confident expression she'd worn when they'd first layed eyes on her.
"What else can I get you," she asked, her voice clipped in that way a professionals did. Sam wondered how long she'd been working as a bar tender. If her skills indicated any thing it's that some where along the lines of her life she had worked some where bigger and more flashy than the old Road House.
Sam opened his mouth to speak and stopped when a hand clamped down on his arm. He turned to look up at the guy who had so thoroughly pissed Naomi off. He was looking down at him intensely and he swallowed what ever words he could have spoken and gave him a questioning look.
"I'll pay for their drinks, Naomi," he heard the man say and Sam heard himself gasp. Why the hell would he do that? What was happening? The man let go of his arm and walked forward. He dug in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.
Naomi looked at Sam, then at Benny before returning to the man in front of her. If Sam had underestimated just how awkward and tense this situation was, the fact that even Benny remained silent made that point very clear. Naomi took his card and looked at Sam. "Did you want to order something?" She asked.
He swallowed hard. Man this was so fucking awkward. "Um..." He said again for the second time in five minutes. He looked at the man standing there. His hair was a light shade of blonde. It was trimmed around the ears and the back was cut shorter than the tip. His eye brows and the stubble on his chin was an equal shade of blonde. It was a rare thing to see someone with hair that blonde and it was even more rare to see someone with that color of hair that also had blue eyes. "You really don't have to," he finally managed to say.
Sam was surprised at the warm feeling that bloomed inside of him as the man gave him that same lazy smile he'd given Naomi.
"It's no problem," he said. "I insist." He helled a hand out motioning for Sam to step up to the order station. He did and asked for two beers, bottle, and he paused as he tried to remember what the blended drink that Charlie had been drinking was called. He explained it and turned to look at the man when he said that it was a Strawberry Daiquiri. For some reason a blush crept up Sam's neck. He quickly looked away from him and back at Naomi.
"Yeah, that," he told her. He tried to fight the smile that was forming on his lips.
"Add a round of shots to that the man said."
Sam ignored the way Naomi's brows drew more tightly together and turned to look back over at the man. The man looked at him curiously. Sam cleared his throat before he asked, "So, what's your name, any way?"
He remained motionless and silent for a second as he seemed to study his face. Sam was not prepared for name that fell from his lips. "Lucifer," he said. The way he said it was like... Sam didn't quit know. Like, he'd rolled it around and actually considered rather he should say it or not.
"Lucifer?" Sam incredulously asked.
"Yes," the man replied. This time his voice came out lower than it had been and Sam had the thought that the word was said in a way that resembled being rolled in silk and drafted through a warm hazy... something or other. He mentally shook his head, resisting the urge to throw other descriptions out.
"Like, the Devil," Sam asked.
Lucifer remained silent for a few seconds. Sam couldn't think of any other things that Lucifer would stand for. Someone calling themselves something dark and creepy had always gave Sam a weird feeling. It made him weary of them and frankly, it made him want to avoid them. As Lucifer considered his question, Sam had the high instinct to turn and run away back to his table.
"Something like that," Lucifer finally said. Yeah, that was creepy. Even as he had this thought, he knew the way that Lucifer was looking at him wasn't creepy. It wasn't much of any thing, really. His expression was relaxed. Other than that he'd only seen amusement on his face.
There was a noise behind him and Sam turned to find Naomi filling up a tray of shots. She finished and pushed the tray a little way in Benny's direction. Sam noticed that Benny's expression was... he wasn't sure, but there was something there.
Benny looked at Sam for a second, then flicked his eyes at the shots. He pointed at them. "These ours?" He asked.
Lucifer nodded once. "Enjoy." He looked over at Naomi. "Card." She went stiff before swiping his card and handing it back, along with a receipt, to him.
He turned to go, but paused and looked at Sam who froze. "Congratulations," he said and Sam looked up at him in confusion. "For graduating and for your art thing. Congrats." Oh.
How long had he been standing behind them, because he's pretty sure they were the last ones in line before they were... not. He runs a head through his hair and feeling awkward, says, "Um, thanks." His eyes dart around for a second, because he can't make himself look at him. When he finally does that same warmth from earlier blooms in his chest again at the way he's looking at him. His eyes are soft and the smile he's giving him isn't amused or teasing.
It's small, but the genuinty of it screams volumes. Sam decides that he likes him. He's confusing, but he's nice, so he's ok with it. Ok with all of it, actually. All the conversation awkwardness and even the strange revelation of his preferred name lessens. His awkwardness starts to fade away and when he speaks again he feels confident and he means what he says. "Really, thank you. For the shots two."
Lucifer's smiled grew a little bit more. "You're very welcome. Enjoy."
Sam smiled back at him and nodded his head once in answer before Lucifer turned away and began to walk between tables towards the right side of the bar. There was a hallway that led to where the pool tables were set up and he seemed to be going that way. He and Benny gathered their drinks and went back to their table. Sam wondered if he'd get to see Lucifer again before the night was up. He handed Charlie her blended drink and made a face as she glared at it.
He cocked an eye brow. "What?" When Naomi had handed it to him he'd thought it looked exactly like what she'd been drinking before.
She wrinkled her nose and said, "They put whip cream on it."
He kept his eye brow cock and turned his head slightly to the side in question.
"I'm lactose and tolerate," she insisted. "I can't do cream."
Raising his hands in defense, Sam said, "Sorry, I can take it back and see if they'll fix it." He would. Even if he really really didn't want to. He didn't know what the deal with Naomi and Lucifer was and he absolutely did not want to even go near... her. Now that he thought about it she had seemed kind of snooty.
He realized that this was the thing about her that he hadn't been able to put his finger on when he'd first seen her. He'd thought she had just been well presented and profession, but no. It was snootiness. Sam spotted Dean coming towards them and he wondered where he had been. Dean's eyes locked on Charlie and he plopped down in the chair beside her.
"Look what your brother did," she whined, holding her drink out in his direction.
He snorted and took it out of her hands. He opened his mouth widely and consumed the whip cream in two large and one small close of his lips over it. When he was done he licked his lips, then used the back of his hand to wipe away and remaining stickiness. "Yum," he approved.
Sam shook his head. "Wow."
"Shut up, bitch," Dean snapped playfully.
Shaking his head, Sam said, "Jerk."
"That's my name. Don't wear it out."
Charlie helled her hand out. "Well, don't wear it out, better give me my drink before I jerk and bitch slap him."
Laughing, Dean handed her drink back and pointed to the stage. "Apparently, the band is leaving early and they're going to set up the Karaoke equipment," he informed them.
Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. This night just kept getting better and better.
"Hey, you bought shots," Dean said, motioning with a raise of his chin at the tray that Benny was holding.
Benny helled them out towards Sam. "These are technically yours," he said.
Sam made a face. "Mine? Why are they mine. I didn't buy them." He so did not like the smirk that Benny gave him. It made him start fidgeting as a strange uncomfortable feeling uncoiled in his stomach.
Benny pursed his lips sarcastically before saying, "Puh-lease."
Sam shook his head roughly and he became determined to shut this conversation down before it even got started. "Yeah," he said quickly, quickly trying to distract him. "I'll do a few. Come on." He pulled the chair in front of him out a little rougher than he meant to and he had to tip his body back slightly to keep the chair from falling over.
He got it to straighten and slid in to it. Thankfully, Benny didn't complain or keep talking. He grabbed the chair beside Sam and pulled it around to the edge of the table. Charlie was on his left and Sam was on his right. Dean was on Charlie's other side and he was just opening the new beer Sam had brought him. Charlie suggest they make a game out of it.
Dean complained that the game she suggested was stupid, but it was only because he was bad at it. The rules were simple. Someone gives a person a word and they're supposed to give them the meaning of it. If they get if wrong they have to drink and if they get it right they both drink. So, it worked out either way.
Charlie picks her shot up and sits it in front of her. "Ok, first question," she says to Dean.
He scowls. "Why do you get to go first?" Benny chuckles and Sam rolls his eyes.
"Don't be such a baby," she says holding up her index finger. "First word. Huzzah."
Dean blinks in confusion. "Huh?"
Sam makes a face at her. Huzzah isn't a common word. He knows what it means, but he never would have thought to use it. Which is actually kind of cool. Genius actually. He grins evilly at his brother who is now scowling at Charlie.
Dean points a finger at her and says, "That's cheating. I've never even heard of that word before. What the hell kind of a word is hazzah any way?"
Sam and Benny both start laughing at him. His expression is hilarious. By the end of his rant his eye brows are raised high, eyes widened and his mouth is hanging part ways open. His shoulders are stiff and his chest is rising and falling as if every thing he's said has left him short of breath. Once again, Sam says, "And you call me dramatic."
"You shut your hole," Dean says flashing him a glare.
"Ooo..." He says wiggling his hands in the air. "Scary."
Dean's head snaps back towards Charlie. "Ok, hazzah." He goes silent as he thinks about it. A lot of time goes by and Sam starts laughing lowly to himself. Why does he even bother? He doesn't know it. "No amount of time is going to make the meaning come to you, man."
"Hole," is all Dean says in reply.
"This is going to take forever," Benny says.
Sam looks over at him and he's slumped in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks back at Dean, then down at the shots. He gets an idea. He grabs two shots and hands one to Benny, then sets one in front of himself. Benny straightens in his seat and reaches for his.
"Let's play why they..." He looks over at his brother and Charlie and shakes his head. "...do their thing."
"Ok," Benny says. "You first."
"Ok." Sam thinks for a few seconds. "Plethora."
Benny smiles. "Lots. Over abundance." Yes, he likes playing with Benny. He's knows words. It's not that Dean isn't intelligent. Words just aren't his thing.
Sam smiles then he and Benny tip their shots up and down them.
"Heeeey."
They both turn to see Charlie's wide eyes expression. "Not fair."
"You shouldn't have picked such a hard word," Benny tells her.
She rolls her eyes and says, "Fine. Huzzah means hoorah or hooray."
"Hey," Dean says.
Sam smacks his hand down on the table. "Dude, just drink. Why are you complaining? You get to drink. She cheated." He points at Charlie pointedly.
Dean seems to like this answer, because he smiles, shrugs, then downs his shot. They go through the shots quickly and by the end Sam feels better. Lighter, warmer and hyper. Alcohol always does that to him. Especially shots.
They hit the spot more quickly, so it only takes a few and he's... very good.
The band had left a few minutes ago and he doesn't see any one bringing the Karaoke equipment up. The bar isn't silent long before a poppy beat that can only be described at keyboardish starts to pump out through the speakers. He figures they decided to use the Jukebox while they set up. He doesn't care any more rather they're going to have to hear drunk people sing. He's feeling good as Charlie drags him towards the bar to get another drink.
The music that is playing isn't in English. Sam listens, tapping his foot to it as he pays attention to what's being said. The language is Spanish or French or any other that he would recognize. He figures it's based from one of those countries that a rarely ever mentioned while your in school. Like Sweden or Finland or something else he doesn't know about.
The only words he can make out are 'hey' 'yeah' and 'move it, move it'. Pop music amuses him. No matter what language a song is in there is always the same parts put in it. Like, who ever runs the music world is connect to others in all countries and they all get together and make it a 'thing' to say 'hey' 'yeah' and 'move it, move it'. It's such an amusing thought that he snorts. He imagines men and woman in various business out fits, all wearing ear pieces and carrying clip boards all nodding and coming up with these words.
Like, they are of utmost importance to the music world. He clears his throat and leans forward to view Charlies face. She is reading the big black sign hanging over the tip of the bar.
"No more Daiquiri's," he asks her.
She shakes her head. "Naw, I want some good stuff now. Real alcohol."
He smiles at that. "Yeah," he says straightening. He gets that. Speaking of. "Hey, get me another beer."
They get there drinks and go back to the table. Dean is laughing hysterically about something. Benny has the tip of his beer to his mouth and he's eyeing Dean in amusement.
"What's so funny?" Charlie asked, grinning. She pulled her seat out and sat down.
Benny shook his head again and sets his beer on the table. "I think oh Dean here's had one too many to drink," he says pointing a thumb in his direction.
Dean arms are on the table and his head is buried in them as he continued to laugh. "Have not," is his muffled reply.
Sam sets his drink down on the table by Benny's. "Watch that for me," he says and head for the bathroom. "I have to piss like a race horse," he calls over his shoulder. He hears Benny start laughing at him and he's grinning as he passes the first bathroom sink.
The Road House doesn't have urinals, which doesn't bother him at all. He's always found them gross and there was always that 'a random dude wants to talk to you while you're pissing' thing. Yeah, no. He takes care of his business behind a closed door. He washes his hands and dries them off before he takes a step for the door.
A stall door opens behind him and he would have kept walking if he hadn't of caught the reflection of the man from earlier in on of the mirrors. Lucifer stalled when he spotted him. He gave him that lazy smile that Sam was started to associate him with. Sam gave him a tight lipped smile and ran the fingers of one hand through his hair. "Um... hi," he said, feeling awkward.
It probably wouldn't have so bad if they weren't in the bathroom. Lucifer's eyes left his and he walked over to one of the sinks. There was a squeak at he turned the faucet on. He let his hands sit under the stream for a few seconds before he turned his wrists up and let the water run over the other side of his hand for a few seconds. Sam shifted on his feet and waited for him to say something.
Lucifer didn't speak until he had dried his hands off and thrown the paper towel in the garbage. "I never did get you're name," he said, turning to look at him.
Sam visibly flinched. "Uh, oh yeah." He felt stupid now. "It's Sam." How could he have possibly forgotten to tell him his name?
"Sam," he repeated. His smile shrank until he was just looking at him. His eyes were sparkling with something and Sam wracked his brain for something to say. Lucifer saved him the trouble by saying, "I was considering stepping out side and having a smoke. Want to join me?"
"Um..." Ok, so he had decided that he liked the guy, because he seemed nice, but he didn't actually know him. He'd have to tell Dean... Scratch that. Dean was drunk. He'd let Benny know where he was going. "Ok," he finally said, mind made up.
At first, Benny appeared surprised to see Lucifer standing there, but he quickly recovered and stood up to shake his hand. After Sam told him what they were doing he nodded and said he'd look after Dean. Lucifer led the way and Sam followed him through the crowd to the front door. The air outside is warm and Sam inhales deeply. There are way more cars in the parking lot than there'd been when they'd gotten here.
"Do you smoke," he heard Lucifer ask.
He turned to face him. He's leaning against the brick wall a safe distance away from the door and he's holding out a green opened pack of cigarettes. Sam shakes his head. Lucifer shrugs and pops one between his lips before sliding the pack in to his back pocket. He pulls a black lighter from his pocket and strikes it.
The tip of the cigarette flickers as he puffs on it until it's completely lit, then he puts the lighter back in his pocket. He takes a deep drag and inhales. Smoke tendrils curl out and around his lips as he exhales slowly. Sam closes the distance and stands in front of him with his hands in his pockets. He just watches him.
"So, Sam," he asks. "I'm a little confused. Did you graduate high school, because you don't look old enough to have graduated college."
Sam shrugged. "My dad moved us around a lot. I failed quit a few times. If it wasn't for Dean I wouldn't have finished at all." And just like that he'd told pretty much his whole life story to a complete stranger. He blinked rapidly at this realization and gave him a tight lipped smile.
"Whose Dean?"
Sam thought about the drunken form of his brother inside, slumped over the table laughing and he smiled. "My brother." He shook his head. "He's something else."
Lucifer took another drag of his cigarette while he nodded. He exhaled before he said, "I have siblings. A lot of them and most of them are something else. All of them would say the same about me." He grinned then and the expression changed his whole face. He seemed lighter. There was love in that expression and mischievousness.
Sam's smile grew wider. "So, how many siblings do you have?"
"Five."
He whistled. "Wow."
Lucifer laughed and Sam couldn't help staring at him as he did this. Every one had different sides and this was a new one to Lucifer that Sam liked. When Lucifer stopped laughed he leaned his head back against the wall and propped one of his shoes up on the wall behind him. "Yeah. There's Naomi, which you met."
Sam's eyes widened. "Wait," he said instantly. "She's your sister? The bar tender?"
That half lidded lazy expression slid on to Lucifer's face.
Sam shook his head. "Now, the whole tension thing between you two makes so much since."
Lucifer's lips quirked up at the side and his expression became down right deviant.
"Something tells me that you annoy the hell out of her on purpose."
"She's..." He looked up for a second as he searched for what he wanted to say. "One of the ones that, for the lack of a better phrase, thinks that her shit doesn't stink. She tries to act like she's never done any thing wrong."
"So, she judges you for your past?"
"That and she just hates my life style in general."
That was an interesting statement and Sam was intrigued. "What kind of life style do you have?"
Lucifer exhaled smoke and crossed his arms, letting his propped up foot lower to the grown. "The word lifestyle is something that always got tossed around in our little family spats, but it's a fitting description. I just want to live. I want to go where I want when I want and if that means dipping out at three in the morning to go cross country just because I fucking want to, then damn it, that's what I'm going to fucking do."
Sam laughed at the fact that Lucifer's voice stayed calm the entire time he spoke. "You seem pretty resolute in your..." He made air quotes as he said, "Life style."
Lucifer grinned at him. "Damn straight. Thirty two years and I think I've earned the right to be comfortable in my own skin." It was such a bold statement that Sam felt a little bit of respect form for him. The door opened drawing Sam's attention.
A young man wearing a black baseball cap and a woman with bright orangish redish hair who was adjusting her purse on her shoulder stepped out and Sam spared them a brief glance before looking back at Lucifer. He had his head back and he was allowing the smoke from his cigarette to slowly curl out of his mouth and drift upwards. Sam studied his face. The light shade of his eye brows made it seem like they almost weren't there and this emphasized the shape of the actual brow beneath the hair. His brows protruded out and gave his eyes a deep seeded appearance.
His nose wasn't too straight or shaped in any way that stood out to him as any thing other than average. His lips were a decent size for his face and they appeared to be... Sam squinted. "Are you wearing lip gloss," he asked before he could stop himself. He also had a habit of blurting things out when something caught him off guard.
Lucifer blew out the rest of the smoke in his mouth and looked at him. One side of his mouth tipped up and his eyes sparkled with new found amusement Sam made a face.
"Sorry," Sam apologized, feeling stupid and he wasn't sure why. It wasn't every day that you saw a guy wearing glitter lip gloss. As he thought about it he realized that it hadn't been there before. He'd been closer to him while he and Benny had ordered drinks and he would have definitely noticed something like that. Sam wondered again if he was gay.
Lucifer flick ash off his cigarette before he asked, "Does that bother you?"
He shook his head. "No. I was just..." He shrugged. "...curious."
"I saw you eyeing my sweater earlier two."
Sam looked down at his sweater and studied the knitted fabric. "Um..." He looked back up at his eyes and he realized he was teasing him. Shaking his head he said, "Ass."
Lucifer laughed. He shrugged and said, "I like purple. Plus, my brother Castiel made this for me for my birthday. He has a bold color scheme choice. Plus, he knew I liked purple, so I figured why not.
It was a sweet gesture. It's more than most in my family has done in probably forever." He snuffed his cigarette out on the bricks to his left side and dropped the butt to the cement walk way before he reached down and tugged the sweater up and over his head. Underneath had been a faded black T-shirt with a white skull splayed across the front of it. "How's that? Very rugged and manly?"
Sam laughed. "Dude..." He shook his head, then turned to him. "Yes, very." His expression grew serious. "The sweater really is ok. You didn't have to..."
"It was getting hot," he said, cutting him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. He looked up at the sky. "I think it's going to rain soon."
It did feel kind of muggy. "Yeah. I think so two," he said following his gaze and looking up.
When they looked back at each other Sam saw a piece of glitter shimmer on Lucifer's top lip. "So you like glitter two," he ask out of genuine curiosity.
Lucifer touched the tip of his finger to his lips and pulled it back to look at it. "Yes." His eyes flicked up to meet Sam's again. "Don't get me wrong. "I'm not gay."
Sam's eye brows rose slightly in surprise at this admission.
"I do like guys though in the same way that I like women."
"Yeah," Sam said nodding. He really did like this guy and insulting him in any way was something he really didn't want to do. He pushed his hand in his pockets. "That's cool, dude. I was just wondering."
Lucifer seemed to be searching his face for something before he finally nodded. "Thank you, Sam."
Sam studied his face and tried to figure out how he could flick back and forth between emotions so easily and still end up sounding so deep and resounding a second later. "Your welcome."
When they'd come back inside he'd invited Lucifer to join them at their table and Sam had been pleasantly surprised at how well he fell in to conversation with his brother and their friends. Dean had sobered up a little bit and Charlie was bordering on tipsy. Benny declared he was sweetly buzzed. Sam eyed Lucifer's rolled up purple sweater that was sitting on the table beside his hand and smiled. He looked over where Lucifer was putting change in to the Jukebox. He put one hand up to brace himself as he scanned the selections.
As Lucifer headed back their way Sam watched him walk. He moved with a fluid grace that one could appreciate and even envy. His eyes flickered over and he was suddenly looking at him. Sam's heart rate sped up and he sat up a little straighter in his seat. He fought the electric pulse throbbing through his nerves as Lucifer made his way over to sit back down beside him. "Hi," he said and he was beyond relieved when his voice came out sounding normal.
Lucifer smiled at him and reached for his beer. "So, we may never get to hear what ever song I just put in there," he said motioning his head towards the Jukebox. There are like thirty song in line ahead of mine."
Sam made a face. "Well, what'd you choose?"
His lips curled up until he was grinning wickedly and Sam could help the grin that began to grow on his face.
He hesitated for a second before he asked, "Do I even want to know?"
Lucifer cleared his throat before he enunciated words that made Sam's mouth drop open in disbelief. "Big. Balls."
"Why?" He breathed out. Involuntarily, his head slowly shook.
His evil grin dropped and he was oozing genuine nonchalance. "Because it brings back good memories," he simply said.
This surprised him, because there was a deep meaning beneath the words that went beyond 'just a good time'.
At the end of the night, Lucifer got Sam's cell number and made it a point to put his cell number in Sam's contact list himself. Sam was surprised when he accepted the warm hug he offered. Lucifer stayed behind while he, Dean, Benny and Charlie made their way back to the Impala. Benny being the more sober of the three took the keys from Dean and dropped in to the driver's seat. During the drive rain started to fall making little splat sounds against the windows. Sam couldn't help but think of his new friend and he wondered what he was doing at that moment. There really was no telling with that man.
He was all over the place. Benny dropped Sam off at his apartment. The porch light shone the way as he made his way up the stairs and unlocked the front door. He closed it and locked it behind him. For a few seconds, he just stood there.
The windows in his apartment were large and there was enough moon light that he didn't immediately have to turn on a light to see. He didn't feel tired. He actually felt very hyper and he decided that he was going to put the energy to good use. He gathered his charcoal, a few select paints and his sketch book. Good pieces usually developed when he felt like this and he wasn't going to waste the opportunity.
He wasn't sure what time it was when he went to bed, but his mind was deliciously sated and he drifted in to sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Thank you for taking the time to read my story. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it... Ok.. maybe during part of it I wanted to bash my brains in... and maybe I restarted it like three times before I got it right, but was worth it and the final piece is what's important. Right? Right. ;)
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~ xoxo Demitria Teague