Sam was trying hard not to fall asleep but his eyelids were heavy as stones. He kept blinking and making those funny movements with his head as he was waking over and over from his slumber. Lucifer glanced at him occasionally and smiled softly. They arrived to their destination in silence but it was a pleasant one.
"I don't want to go anywhere," Sam whined when they pulled over. Lucifer looked at him with amusement.
"Why?" He asked and caressed Sam's temple, toying with a strand of his hair. Sam leant into the touch, closed his eyes and sighed contently.
"I want to stay with you," he responded simply.
"I'm not leaving you here, Sam," Lucifer laughed.
"No?" Sam yelped in confusion and opened his eyes to see Lucifer's expression.
"No," the Light-bringer said reassuringly, "I just want you to get out of this car and follow me. I'm not leaving you here and driving off to never see you again. I promise, Sammy."
"Okay," Sam murmured and let Lucifer get out of the car. He himself did almost nothing to move from the spot. Later the door on his side opened and revealed Lucifer with a playful grin upon his lips.
"Are you going to act like a whining princess all the time?" he asked and leant over Sam.
"As long as you're my Prince Charming," Sam babbled and grinned widely, obviously satisfied with his witty remark.
"Alright, Sleeping Beauty, come," Lucifer offered Sam his hand but the latter just smirked cunningly.
"Don't you have to wake me up first?" Sam smirked and tilted his head back, closing his eyes coquettishly, "see? I'm asleep."
"And they say I lead people to temptation." Lucifer sighed and still holding onto the car's roof, he bent down and pressed his lips on Sam's. Sam smiled into the kiss and laced his fingers in Lucifer's hair. When their lips parted Sam looked at Lucifer intently.
"You really won't leave me here?" he asked, still holding the latter's face close.
"No. There's nothing I would want less than part with you right now, Sam," Lucifer's bright eyes warmed up with affection. Sam finally seemed to come to believe that Lucifer would indeed take him with himself, wherever he was going.
Sam let Lucifer raise him up to his feet and close the car's door. Locking the car with the remote, Lucifer wrapped his right arm around Sam's back, holding him steady and guiding him in the direction he wished to go. Sam wasn't as drunk as he appeared to be, but for some reason, his slightly intoxicated brain decided it would be best to pretend he could not walk on his own. Why though, Sam could not fully understand because he was acting weak and vulnerable, relying fully on the help of a person he should be avoiding. But then again, he remembered why he had avoided Lucifer for so long; he was told to do so, Dean told him to do it, Cas told him to do it, and so did Bobby and Ellen and Jo and all those people who sooner or later left him and betrayed him. There was always somebody more important for them; Sam was never the first one. Dean's love for him was immense, yes, and he would give his life to save Sam, but would he sacrifice Castiel over Sam? Not likely; if he were to choose one of them, Sam is sure they would both die before Dean makes his mind. Sam was happy that Dean had found somebody to trust, to love and to protect on his own will and not just because his father told him to do it. What actually bothered him was that Dean couldn't pay him the same favour; that he wouldn't let Sam feel the same love, care and adoration he had with Cas. Why should it matter who was the one to provide such love? Sam had so much blood and guilt on his hand he was not worth of someone as innocent and ingenious as Castiel. No, the soul mate for Sam had to be someone broken, someone powerful, somebody who doesn't follow orders blindly, someone who doubts, who asks, who rebels. Somebody who stands up against their destiny. And this someone is Lucifer and Sam knows it now. Being with Lucifer just feels so natural, so good and it's not because of the wine he had drunk. Lucifer knows so much about him and loves him all the same, accepting everything there is to Sam's personality.
"Are you with me, Sam?" Lucifer asked with amusement.
"What? Oh, yeah. Sorry, I've been thinking," Sam mumbled and for the first time since he got out of the car, he looked around himself. They were standing in front of a huge, luxurious hotel – five star, if Sam's senses weren't playing tricks on him – that was quite probably their destination. Sam blinked several times before turning to Lucifer.
"Another snobbish place that's gonna let us stay for free?" he asked.
"Exactly," Lucifer nodded and led Sam through the door. They appeared in a big hall with walls covered in what seemed to be white marble and a floor of the same colour. Sam caught himself thinking about how people avoid slipping on it when it's snowing outside and he giggled.
"What's the matter?" Lucifer asked. They were already at the other side of the hall, passing two huge and quite probably expensive vases filled with fresh flowers. Lucifer snatched one crimson rose from it without anybody but Sam noticing.
"How do people not slip on the floor when it snows?" Sam said and giggled again. Lucifer shrugged in response and led them towards a lift in a long corridor that was decorated similarly as the hall with some paintings on the walls. Sam didn't understand what kind of art those pieces represented and he chose to ignore them.
"I guess the hotel gives them some kind of a flying carpet to move around or something," Lucifer added as they stood in front of the elevator waiting for the car to arrive. Sam laughed again.
The elevator door opened and revealed a very formally dressed elderly couple. The man gave them a disgusted look as he eyed Lucifer's arm around Sam's waist. The woman just looked away, pretending she didn't see them at all. Neither Sam, nor Lucifer stepped aside so that the couple had to pass them by quite close. Once they got out of the car and turned their backs to Sam and Lucifer, they received two tongues, one forked and one completely normal, stuck in their direction. Sam and Lucifer looked at each other and burst out laughing at their perfect sync.
The elevator door started to close so Lucifer waved his free arm to stop it from driving off again. He dragged Sam inside and pressed a button that – as Sam noticed – indicated the highest floor. There was silence between them for a while before Sam turned to Lucifer with a smug grin plastered all over his face.
"Elevators get stuck all the time, don't they?" he said in a low, husky voice, "Sometimes for whole hours."
"They do," Lucifer admitted, seeing what Sam was implying immediately, "but not today."
"Why?" Sam asked, his shoulders drooped a little.
"It's too soon. I'm not that shallow, Sam, and it hurts me that you think so about me." Lucifer explained, looking away a little.
"You're supposed to be the impersonation of sin," Sam muttered. The elevator came to a halt and the door opened. "not a preacher."
"I am not a preacher, Sam," Lucifer explained and pulled at his companion to move from the lift cage. "Others can do whatever they want and it would be fine with me. But I will not use you."
"You said you wanted me," Sam objected.
"And I do," Lucifer assured him, "but the waiting makes it better."
"Didn't you wait enough?" Sam muttered. They stopped in front of a room on the very end of the corridor. Sam assumed this must be the most expensive room in the hotel according to its location.
"I've waited for you for so long; I can last a little longer." Lucifer opened the expensive-looking door. Sam peered inside.
"It doesn't look like you don't want to screw me, judging by the decoration," he pointed out smugly.
"I don't want to screw you, Sam. Why do you have to call it that way? It sounds as if I was pushing you into something, as if it didn't require us both." Lucifer furrowed his brow a little, letting go of Sam only to take the latter's hand into his.
"Oh, I didn't mean to... It's Dean's expression." Sam murmured, looking down.
"Is it really what I mean to you? Somebody to 'screw'?" Lucifer whispered and there was pain in his voice. Sam didn't dare to raise his head in fear of seeing the same emotion in Lucifer's eyes.
"No. But there's something about you... Something that makes me..." Sam's voice faded into nothingness as he had no idea what to say. "I've gotta go to the bathroom."
Sam let go of Lucifer's hand and retreated into an adjacent room that – as he assumed – was a bathroom. He sat down on the floor and leant his back against the huge, luxurious bathtub. He looked around himself and it made him feel even worse. Lucifer had chosen all what was around him very carefully, Sam was sure of that, and he spoiled everything. When he looked back at his behaviour, he wanted to bang his head against the wall. He had made a complete idiot of himself.
Sam buried his head in his hands. He had after all been drunk more than he thought. He could not understand why he would act like he just had; like some cheap, stupid, horny douche. What he did get now though was why nobody ever loved him fully, why everybody kept their distance as if he was repulsive. He is a poison. A venomous snake that bites everybody in his reach.
Lucifer tried to think of a way to approach Sam. He knew very well what the latter was doing and he didn't like the fact at all; he didn't want Sam to hate himself or think that Lucifer was annoyed or mad at him. Knowing Sam as he did though, he knew it wouldn't be easy to break through the shell of self hatred that coated Sam like a cocoon. He considered just waiting for Sam to calm down and walk out of the bathroom – he would have to do it after all – but he assumed it would take a lot of time. Sam could be really stubborn. Lucifer toyed with the rose he had torn off the bouquet in the hall as thoughts rushed through his mind. He inhaled the aroma of the blossom and let himself dwell in the silky feeling of the petals between his fingers.
The idea he got was silly and cheesy but it was not unaccomplishable. He snatched a pen from a huge table situated in the room and a scratch pad lying close by and scribbled down a note in a chaste and a little shaky script. He had never written anything in any human font hence the insecurity. He impaled the paper on one of the rose's thorns and looked it over again before he was satisfied with the outcome. Once he completed settling his message, he concentrated on sending it to Sam.
Sam was just considering how big of an impact his body would suffer if he decided to get out of the room using the window when the rose materialised in his lap. He looked at it with astonishment for a moment before he recalled where he had seen it originally. He untangled the note from the flower carefully.
Sam,
Stop being a whiny girl and come out. It would need a lot more to discourage me.
Sam realised the corners of his lips twitched upwards as he read the short note. He noted that Lucifer chose exactly the words he had needed; not some assurance that would sound insincere, but playful, sarcastic and truthful words to remind Sam that it was really not such a big deal.
Sam rose to his feet. He checked himself in the mirror and realised he was still wearing the suit. He shrugged and noted to himself to ask Lucifer for some normal clothes. Clutching the flower in his hands anxiously, he lingered on spot for some time, the other hand on the doorknob.
When he finally stepped into the main room, Lucifer was facing the window, breathing on the glass and painting something into the frost that created on it. Sam didn't know if he should make some noise to let Lucifer know he was in the room or run away when he had time. Before he could draw the conclusion that he had no idea where he was and no means to get away, Lucifer turned around with a smile on his lips.
"With the rose, you're perfect, Sam," he says gently and gestures for the latter to join him by the window. It's a huge one, reaching from the ceiling almost to the ground and stretching on almost half of the wall. Sam walks towards Lucifer a little tense and insecure.
"Look at the city, Sam," Lucifer says, placing one of his hands on the glass, "isn't it amazing how destructive humans are?"
"Destructive?" Sam inquired, astonished.
"There used to be meadows here, wild animals grazing, all God's creations.." Lucifer took Sam's palm and pressed it against the cool panel of glass. "And then humans destroyed it. Isn't it marvellous? Glass, concrete, asphalt. What a beautiful weapons, don't you think?"
"Eh," Sam mumbled only, puzzled. Maybe he's gone mad. Maybe I broke him. Oh my god, did I drive the devil mad?!
"Are you tired?" Lucifer turned to Sam. Sam thought about it for some time before answering.
"Half," he said at last. He went on when he saw Lucifer's raised eyebrow. "As in, too tired to go anywhere and not tired enough to go to sleep."
"You mean you're too lazy to go out and act normal among people," Lucifer smirked.
"Whatever you wish to call it," Sam shrugged.
"That's okay. Wanna do something extraordinary and worth my time, or normal and boring?" Lucifer inquired and reached towards Sam to brush off some non-existent stain from Sam's suit. Sam let him do it for a while before he caught Lucifer's hand between his own.
"First of all, get me some normal clothes," he asked. The rose was stuck in between their fingers, interwoven in the mess of hot flesh.
"Why? I like you the best like this. It brings out your beauty," Lucifer objected and freed his palm from Sam. He held the rose in front of Sam's eyes. "like this rose. It was created to fit you. It's dark and sinful, ardent and violent and yet gentle and fragile. The suit symbolises the opposite, being the best thing to accompany you and this flower."
"Er, thanks for the compliment, I guess," Sam muttered, a little baffled by Lucifer's passionate speech, "but I'm sure there's something less suitable but more comfortable for me and the rose that is suddenly more of a person than I ever expected a flower to be."
"Don't think a living object is less complex than you just because you don't speak its language," Lucifer objected, "why do you humans insist on comfort so much? That's what destroyed this precious little planet of yours, you know? The need to put comfort before beauty."
"So you're saying I'm only beautiful in the suit?" Sam said it in a light voice but the words hurt him more than he wanted to show. He had thought Lucifer loved him unreservedly and over the last few hours, he got used to – hell, addicted to – the feeling of being cherished by someone so ancient, powerful and proud as Lucifer.
"Of course not, silly," Lucifer replied in astonishment, "you are beautiful, always have been and always will be. But the suit does not spoil it or hide it. The suit emphasizes the natural charm of yours. Anything else diminishes you, blunts your grace, makes you closer to normality."
"Wow, that was something of a point," Sam breathed out, "and can my awesomeness suffer a little in order for me to drag you into a bed, curl up in your arms and cuddle with you while we watch some stupid movie?"
"There's one thing you haven't considered, Sammy," Lucifer pointed out and his facial expression converted into a smug, self-satisfied smirk, "there's no need to wear clothes if you're staying here. I said the suit was the only piece of clothing to not spoil you. I said nothing about it being the only thing that looks good on you."
Sam blushed and he stared at Lucifer for some time before his thoughts formed into an intelligible sentence.
"You said you didn't want to have sex and now you're telling me to lie in a bed with you naked?" he muttered.
"There's a big difference between those two," Lucifer explained matter-of-factly. He touched Sam's cheek with the rose, caressing the soft skin on Sam's jawbone and neck. The shirt Sam wore was buttoned up so there was not too much of flesh revealed, but it was enough for Sam's body to respond.
"There is," Sam murmured as his eyes fell shut to let his senses focus entirely on Lucifer's caresses. He threw his head aback to grant the latter more access. "And then there isn't. Like right now. I don't know what to make of your behaviour. You say you don't wish to seduce me and yet you do something this erotic and sensual."
"There's a giant step between admiring and worshipping your body and sex. I wish humans saw it." Lucifer sighed and removed the flower from Sam's skin. That earned him a frustrated, angry groan which he found both amusing and arousing.
"Well, that's how a strong-willed angel sees it. But mere humans, and that, believe it or not, includes me, are not able to see how what you've just been doing can be seen as something that would not eventually lead to sex. Or at least some variation of it." Sam opened his eyes and gave Lucifer an annoyed look.
"There is a lot of tension a man can endure without release," Lucifer proclaimed wisely.
"But the release has to come," Sam pointed out, "and people are usually too weak to hold something within them."
"But doesn't it feel better if the deliberation comes after longer time of hardship than immediately, before the real craving begins?" Lucifer asked, curiosity visible in his eyes. Sam stared back with a blank expression showing lack of ability to keep a conversation like this.
"I think we just... break before we can get to this better part." Sam replied bitterly, sarcastically even. "We're just too flawed as you always thought we were."
Sam pulled away from Lucifer. He made a step back, only a little one but it felt like a mountain appeared between them. They watched each other in astonishment but neither did anything to close the gap again.
"Why do you say that?" Lucifer managed to inquire at last.
"That's what you've said, you know. Or implied. I cannot control what I feel and I certainly cannot control my body. If you can, you're a superior being which means I am the inferior one. I've just pronounced the truth." Sam answered. He took a deep breath before adding his last words: "Also, if I can't be with you, I'll probably have to be far away from you."
"If that's what you want, Sam, you should go," Lucifer said. He managed to rid his voice of all emotions so that it sounded so flat and hollow it hurt Sam physically. There was no thrill of being with Sam, no repulsion at being among humans, no passion, no hatred. Just painful, deafening nothing.
"Do you want me to go?" Sam asked and after a short hesitation he stepped towards Lucifer again.
"Of course I don't," Lucifer spat, "you're everything I've ever wanted, my dream come true, just the idea that one day you will exist kept me alive for centuries. But if you wish to leave, I will not force you to stay, for the same reasons."
"I should probably get going then," Sam muttered. "I cannot pretend to be something I am not. I'm sorry to leave you and don't think it's because I didn't enjoy your presence. It was wonderful, and if you ever decide to stop putting insurmountable obstacles between us, I'd be glad to see you again."
"I'll miss you Sam," Lucifer whispered and the conversation ended there for him. He turned around towards the window again and he walked off. Sam watched his back and for a while, he considered staying. But he knew he had closed the door – at least for that night – and if he didn't want Lucifer to stop thinking highly of him, he had to take his leave.
Sam gave Lucifer's rigid, motionless back one last sad glance before he walked down the small ante-room and opened the door. He shut it very gently behind him; he hoped it would tell Lucifer he wasn't mad and never wished to see him again. In fact, he wanted to turn around and cuddle to Lucifer's side, plant a kiss on the back of his head and reassure him that he would never leave again. But they had to set boundaries in their relationship – whatever it was like – and Sam had to stand up to his demands. If they were not about sex – fine, but Sam knew he would be exhausted from restraining himself if Lucifer kept teasing him like this.
He decided to take the stairs instead of the elevator for it would remind him of his embarrassing behaviour earlier. There was a lot of stairs but he didn't mind walking. He sped up and after two or three minutes he was standing in the hall of the hotel, staring at the intimidating white marble and the ardent and gentle roses. Sam suddenly realised that he had no idea what to do. He had no idea where he was so walking back to the motel was out of question. Then he considered "borrowing" some car – getting as desperate as that – but he doubted there would be a car without all sorts of the best examples of modern art in car protection. So he began searching through his pockets in hope he would find a credit card or at least some money. He realised he had his wallet with him when he left with Lucifer. He just hoped it didn't get lost while his clothes were converted into the suit that caused so much distress.
He finally found it, in a pocket on the inner side of the jacket. He had never known there were pockets in there, but he realised this suit was quite probably from a different price range than those he usually bought. He opened the wallet and looked inside. It revealed more than he hoped for – a fake ID, fake credit card and some banknotes (hopefully not fake.) Sam counted the money and realised it would probably be enough to pay for a taxi to the motel. His sources were known and all he had to do was decide what to do with them.
He could use the credit card and stay in the hotel over the night. That would cost unnecessarily big amount of money and he'd have to leave in the morning anyway. When he told Lucifer he'd leave, he'd meant for longer than just a night. The alluring about staying in the hotel was the time it would earn him; he'd delay the need to decide what to do next for a few hours and that was certainly worth the try. He also knew – not from experience though – that in a hotel like this, there would be a loaded up mini-bar full of alcohol. That did indeed sound promising and Sam almost walked off towards the reception counter where a young blonde girl seemed to be waiting just for him to show up.
What would he do next though? He couldn't go to Lucifer again and he knew he would be burning with need to do so as he already missed his angel. Maybe if he was far away, the desire would be duller. Or at least he hoped so. The alcohol he had thought of before would help but also make him feel terrible in the morning and he'd probably run to Lucifer to help him anyway.
No, the answer was not to stay in the hotel, despite it being the easiest option in that moment. Once he drew this conclusion, Sam crossed the hall swiftly as if something was chasing him. He walked through the door without looking back and he didn't realise he had been holding breath before he was outside and inhaled sharply. The air was cool which would be great had it not reminded Sam of Lucifer. To be honest, if it was warm, hot or freezing, it would remind him of the angel just as well anyway.
Since he eliminated the option of staying there, he had to think of somewhere else to go. The obvious answer – the motel where he was staying with Dean – had its pros and cons. It was the easiest thing to do; his things were there, his brother expected him to be there, and if he got there in time, Dean would not have to find out about his eccentric date with the Devil. On the other hand though, Dean would be there. Sam had never wanted to see his brother less than in that exact moment. He still had mixed feelings about Dean leaving him out of the important hunts – or seemingly important as Lucifer was obviously chasing Dean rather than the other way around – and he did not wish to go back to doing nothing and pretending he was okay with Dean vanishing to go somewhere with Cas because he trusted the angel to take care of himself better than Sam would. Sam had felt redundant enough but now it would be excruciating. He'd want to go back to Lucifer just to feel important again.
He could hitch-hike even. He hasn't done it since he'd met Meg on the side of the road (no, he was not superstitious) and he didn't feel like breaking that habit. Of course, he could just disappear into thin air and nobody would find out where he was and what he was doing. He had all his necessary belongings with him anyway; now when Dean was a big brother again and knew everything better than Sam, he had also confiscated Ruby's knife. Sam was furious when he found out – it was his knife! Dean kept rubbing his nose in Sam's lapse, even when he didn't say anything it was obvious in his eyes. He blamed Sam for letting Lucifer out of the cage because it was clear as water – Sam didn't trust Dean, didn't follow him and look where it lead them. Not all of it is bad, Sam thought as he recalled the feeling of Lucifer's lips against his own. He didn't deserve to be imprisoned for so long, whatever his crime was. There was no death waiting for Lucifer to free him from his jail, it was a life sentence in every meaning of the word.
Sympathy for the Devil, Sammy? Dean's voice sounded in Sam's head immediately. Sam chased it off. No, he was not staying with Dean, not given these circumstances. On the other hand, he didn't wish to just disappear and send his brother a text, mostly because he feared Dean would think he was not alright (despite what he would write in the text. Dean was just like that.) He would have to tell Dean face to face that he was taking a break.
Once he made his mind, he looked around himself. He was in the middle of nowhere, or so it seemed but fortunately there was a taxi standing not so far away from him. Sam walked hesitantly towards the car; he'd never really fancied going anywhere in a taxi, mostly because other cars but the Impala made him anxious. Stupid OCD, he thought. Sometimes he just didn't feel good in unfamiliar surroundings what was funny considering his lifestyle. But the Impala was the only car he considered his own and the others were alien and distressing. He braced himself when he reached the taxi. He opened the passenger's door.
"Good evening, can you take me to the motel 'Sly Fox'? It shouldn't be too far..." He asked as the driver didn't send him away immediately.
"Sure thing," the driver nodded and Sam stepped into the car and shut the door behind himself. He buckled the seat belt (Dean would laugh) and stared onto the road through the windscreen. For some time the journey went smoothly, without a word and Sam was happy for that. He started recognizing his surroundings when the driver spoke.
"Got a date to pick up there?" he asked and glanced over at Sam.
"No," Sam frowned.
"I don't charge much for waiting. And I can be discreet." The driver kept talking.
"Then be discreet and concentrate on driving." Sam snapped a little more harshly than he expected but he wasn't going to apologise. The driver fell silent and soon they arrived to their destination. Once the car pulled over, Sam paid as quickly as possible and literally jumped out of the car. He found the keys from his and Dean's room in the same pocket in which he had discovered the wallet before. He put the key into the hole to open it but found it already unlocked.
So what, he'll know. No big deal. Sam tried to calm himself down but he didn't believe it at all. Of course it was a big deal if Dean saw him in the clothes he was wearing. What would he say? Not the truth of course, that would be a suicide in the better case and house arrest in the worse. And Dean was there, waiting for Sam to show up. He'd be furious, Sam knew that, and he would not let Sam leave after that. But Sam felt he owed his brother some words of farewell. He took a deep breath and opened the door.
First of all, he noticed a blade pointed at him. Then he was splashed with some cold liquid which must have been holy water. When he cried in shock, the attacker – presumably Dean – stopped and looked at Sam.
"Where the hell have you been?"