"Lucifer—" Chuck covered his face with his hands. Stood still for a few drawn-out seconds. Finally, "Lucifer, what the fuck are you doing?"
Lucifer looked up from where he sat at the kitchen table. Its surface was littered with little black cardboard boxes and a several small brown bottles. Lucifer swallowed a mouthful of licorice and said, "I'm poisoning my vessel in the interests of science." He gave Chuck a sharp grin, and popped what seemed to be the very last piece of candy into his mouth. He followed it with the final drops from a bottle of vanilla extract, and leaned back in his chair.
Chuck couldn't think of anything particularly coherent to say, so he sputtered, "What?!"
"Nick's heart appears to be attempting to stop, and his kidneys seem to be shutting down, as well." Lucifer yawned. "This body is suffering from symptoms of licorice overdose... and possibly alcohol poisoning. Not as clear on that one." He paused. "Fascinating. I won't let anything happen, of course." Grabbed one of the little brown bottles, and read off the label. "Pure vanilla extract. It's at least 35% alcohol, to fit the FDA's requirement for pure vanilla. This vessel can certainly feel it."
Chuck remained at a loss for words.
Eventually he settled on, "Jesus fucking Christ, Lucifer."
Lucifer shot him an innocent smirk. He stood, and began to push all the little cardboard boxes into a pile. He suddenly seemed to experience some kind of epiphany, because he froze for a moment, staring wondrously down at the table, and snapped his fingers. The table cleared. He planted his hands on his hips and shook his head before looking up at Chuck and saying, "If I'm not mistaken, it's affecting me."
"Yeah? Yeah—well—" Chuck wrung his hands and scurried over to Lucifer. "Just—what is wrong with you? Okay? What the heck?!" He grabbed at Lucifer's shoulders. Despite Lucifer's angelic abilities, Chuck couldn't help but worry just a little bit. After all, the heavyset man was actually a little unsteady on his feet. Not in a dangerous, swaying way, but in a slightly-more-clumsy-than-he-ought-to-be way. Tipsy.
Lucifer just smirked wider and settled his arms around Chuck's waist. He leaned into Chuck's personal space until their noses brushed. "Are you concerned about me, Prophet?"
Chuck frowned. "Concer—no." He shook his head. "No way."
He got a laugh in return, and Lucifer's breath reeked of licorice and vanilla.
"You smell like a bag of licorice rockies." Chuck frowned. He let Lucifer steer him into the chair at the kitchen table.
"Did you know," Lucifer sank down to straddle Chuck's lap, with a slow, predatory smile. "that both vanilla and licorice have been used as aphrodisiacs throughout history?" He licked his lips.
If anyone else had done it, Chuck might have laughed, but he way Lucifer carried himself and the way his slit tongue flicked out for a brief moment had Chuck frozen in his seat, enthralled. He tried to think of something to distract himself, or to kill the rapidly more sexual mood.
It didn't work.
He couldn't come up with any thoughts other than, "Holy shit, why is Satan hot?"
As if he could read Chuck's mind, Lucifer laughed, and leaned in close. He whispered, "Sexy, aren't I?" He paused for half a moment. "I can stop, if you want me to. But I do so desire to kiss you, at the moment."
"I—that's fine." Chuck nodded. "You're good—well, not literally good but I mean—"
Lucifer cut him off with a kiss. Chuck had to admit it worked pretty well in silencing him. For a few minutes, even. Though the longer Lucifer kissed him, the harsher Chuck breathed through his nose, so utter silence didn't last very long. Especially when Lucifer angled his mouth differently, and Chuck accidentally squeaked.
He felt his cheeks heat up, as Lucifer pulled back to look at him.
Lucifer grinned. "Would you like to... move this elsewhere?" He raised his eyebrows, perhaps a little mockingly, and drew his cold fingertips down Chuck's arms. Chuck took a moment to think, but ultimately, it was an easy choice. He nodded, and let Lucifer pull him to his feet. Followed him down the hall to the bedroom they shared with Michael—Michael was grocery shopping, otherwise he probably would have intervened before Lucifer decided to devour such a ghastly amount of candy and extracts.
As Lucifer pulled Chuck into the bedroom, he shut the door with his foot. He pushed Chuck toward the bed, moving like molasses, breathing out vanilla fumes. A few rather rough kisses, licorice-flavored. Chuck's knees hit the edge of the mattress, and he sat with a whump. Lucifer grinned. Pushed Chuck down against the bed, trapping him under his body, dropping more kisses on Chuck's lips. (Too sweet, and a little warmer than usual.)
Chuck wrapped his arms around Lucifer's shoulders and his legs around Lucifer's waist and kissed back.