It all started with an innocuous trip into a record store. Sam had gone into the town near the Bunker, to get some shopping done. Lucifer had tagged along out of principle, because being alone with Dean and Cas wasn't on the top of his list of priorities. They had been walking down the sidewalk, toward the small supermarket when the archangel had pointed it out.

"I hear records are superior to digital formats of music," the sandy blond commented off handedly.

"I never took you for a music connoisseur." Sam chuckled, smiling lightly at his companion before leading him into the store. There was an old record player from when the Men of Letters had inhabited the bunker back in the 50's. Maybe they could find something good enough to listen to.

Sam flipped through a crate of blues records absently, smirking when he came across a Robert Johnson vinyl. He wondered how many other artists had sold their souls for success. He imagined it was many, considering some of the talentless fools that had somehow made it to fame and fortune. 'To each their own,' Sam thought.

Lucifer walked back over to the Winchester slowly, a record slyly held behind his back. He slid next to Sam casually, looking down at the crate the younger was rifling through carelessly. He slid the record out from behind his back and held it out to Sam, silently asking permission because Lucifer had no money and knew Sam would be angry if he stole it.

"Let It Bleed?" Sam questioned, finding it a little ironic that they Devil would pick out a Rolling Stones record, of all things.

"It is an interesting title," Lucifer reasoned, his smile stretching into the cunning grin Sam was so used to. "Will you get it?" he finished.

Sam nodded in agreement, because really how could he say no? It wasn't every day you got to buy rock 'n roll records for Satan himself.

-BB-

Sam had given the vinyl to Lucifer when they'd returned to the bunker, and the archangel quickly disappeared into the library where the old gramophone was. He left him go, knowing the elder could figure it out without Sam's help. It was a good thing, finding something to occupy the restless angel with. He had been uneasy staying so stationary while he adjusted to being nearly graceless. It had been a difficult road, and Sam was glad to find something to brighten the other's spirits even a little.

It was nearly seven at night before Sam decided he should check on Lucifer, at Dean's insistence.

"I've heard Country Honk play at least ten times over now, Sam." Dean rumbled from his spot in front of the stove where he was frying some potatoes. "Gettin' real tired of it."

Afraid of what kind of destruction his brother might cause, he had conceded and made his way back towards the library to turn the music off and coax the archangel to hopefully eat dinner. Sam nearly cried out in surprise, and the amusement when he finally made it into the library.

Strains of 'You Can't Always Get What You Want' could be heard from the hallway, and Sam smiled softly to himself. He opened the door, words already on his lips, but he choked on them swiftly.

The coffee table in front of the couch and recliner had been pushed against the far wall, and the record player had been repositioned to sit next to nearest sofa. Lucifer stood in the middle of the large rectangle, eyes closed, completely consumed.

He swayed his hips, bending his knees and rocking his body forwards and back in time with the music, "But if you try sometimes, you might just find, you get what you need!" He sang out, unaware of his audience. "Awwh baby." He bent over, voice rasping as he finished the chorus.

As the guitar twanged, building into the next verse Lucifer raised his arms and sort of wiggled around in a circle while his head bobbed rhythmically. Sam grinned when he saw the look on the archangel's face, as close to peace and pure bliss he had ever seen on another being's face in his entire life.

And suddenly he knew why Lucifer was known as the angel of music.

"Luce," Sam murmured, hesitant. The reverie was broken, and eyes slid open slowly to reveal soft aquamarine. The glazed quality Lucifer's stare held only seemed to heighten the look of pure pleasure on his face and Sam felt his skin prickle at the sight of it. Lucifer grinned, light and playful as he stepped towards Sam carefully while singing,

"She was practiced at the art of deception, well I could tell by her blood stained hands," He sung out the endnote, pulling at its ends irresistibly as he came closer to the younger Winchester. Right before his pressed his lips against Sam's he hissed temptingly, "You can't always get what you want."

-BB-

They were walking down the aisle of the Gas n' Go when Sam turned to Lucifer and asked, "Hey you want a soda or something?"

They had been on the road for almost twelve hours now, making their way into South Dakota for a case. Lucifer had tagged along, citing that he 'shouldn't be left to his own devices for so long.' And even Dean couldn't argue that the angel's knowledge didn't come in handy when they were in a pinch.

"Sure, Sam." he smiled, looking over to the slushy machine expectantly.

Sam chuckled, following Lucifer's gaze in amusement, "What flavor?"

"Cherry red, Sammy." He replied, pinching him on the ass as he walked by. "Cherry red."