NA :
As usual, one-shots are the best to change my mind before getting back to my current WIPs. Just needed pure fluff for once. We won't complain about fluff, will we?
Fluffly aaaaaand… slightly smutty at the end. (You've been warned!)
Music - Low Lays the Devil (The Veils)
LIKE AN ALBANIAN FIELD WENCH
Yesterday was a nightmare. Not quite like those invading her mind the moment she collapses in her bed and shuts her eyes, sometimes shut before she even touches the mattress, but nightmarish enough to hold the comparison. Daily nightmares or nocturnal ones, she's got used to it. She makes do with it.
There's been a slight improvement since a few weeks, though. A few more minutes of peaceful sleep every night, almost three hours straight - not that bad, uh? Can't be bad, given how she'd been pacing back and forth in her bedroom before. Trixie's sleep must have been better since then, too; although, she never complained about it. Neither Lucifer did so far.
He could have. And she wouldn't have taken offense.
She's not the kind of insomniac who stares blankly at a spot by staying in bed silently. She turns from one side, then another, gets up, walks towards the door, back to the bed, sits down and lies back again with loud sighs. Well, she stares blankly, sometimes. Most of the time of her insomnia, these last days - nights.
She stares at him.
It's the only thing helping her to relax a bit, it appeases her thoughts and keeps nightmares at bay; he's the only one who helps her sleep. She can't recall exactly when him staying at her place - or she at his place - has become a 'humdrum' thing between them. Maybe since he came back to her? It started that night, with sobs, kisses, desperate hold to each other - not that they really 'slept' that night. Anyway, there were barely two or three nights alone after that, then only two, then one.
He's here - every night, every day, in every moments she needs him to be.
Yet, he hasn't complained once.
Not when she can't help but staring at him in the dark until dawn; neither when she walks, sighs, hides her cries in her pillow sometimes, because she can't chase the thought that he might be gone one day. Again. She's pretty sure he hears her cry, how explain the way his chest always comes to touch her hand, then - proving his living presence to her with strong heartbeats against her trembling palm? It can't be just subconscious answer or whatever...
He's not that sound asleep.
She hasn't cried last night, barely whimpered or sighed; yet, she can't remember a single moment when he hasn't been touching her. As a result, she had been staring at him a bit longer than usual. His arm over her waist, fingers twitching from time to time on the sheets. He's a moving sleeper, not as much as she is, but still... she had always pictured him as a perfect statue of sleep, quieter than his usual 'awake' self, at least. Sleepy Devil and Waking Devil look alike.
So disappointing.
She smiles fondly every time he moves against her, though. With him snuggled against her tense, insomniac body, it's all the more odd that he never complained about her insomnia habits. He should have noticed it, woken up once or twice every time she gets up for some reason.
No, not a move there.
He must be awake, aware that she isn't at least.
She has tried to trick him, with unfair, alluring snuggles, a loud sigh quickly followed by her bottom against his groin, or by pulling most of the sheets on her side of the bed, leaving him mostly naked under soft nocturnal breeze from the ajar window. Whatever she has done, it never has worked.
The same old sleepy-twitchy Devil.
She guesses she'll never know.
And, given how she needs to see him sleep to sleep as well, it's for the best.
Anyway, last night has been more difficult than the previous ones. Maybe because she worked too much or too long for their current case, because she hasn't slept long enough the night before, maybe because she has drunk too much coffee at the precinct with Ella who's been eager to tell each tiny detail planned for their next tribe night with Linda and Maze. Maybe because she hates to investigate robbery that turned into murder in the middle of the night.
Probably more the last one.
It reminded her her dad's murder, also in the middle of the night. She had been sound asleep that night, exhausted by her footage for the movie and her mother complaining about her lack of enthusiasm with some of her lines the entire day. She hadn't felt it, that her dad was dying alone, somewhere in town, in a night shop. She had just... woken up the following day, like nothing terrible had happened. Then, she had seen cops at the doorstep, she had felt the shock, the grief.
She hates it.
She has hated to announce this man's death early morning, the surprise in his daughter's eyes, the shock, the grief.
No wonder she hasn't slept well last night.
No wonder watching Lucifer sleep hasn't helped much.
Nothing could.
She just... needs to move on, move from the bed at first. Might be a good start.
However, she's feeling too numb from light sleep, endless nocturnal moves, to move at all. Not before an hour, maybe two. She doesn't plan to go back to sleep - like she could! She only wants to stay in bed, to sigh and whimper with eyes shut.
She groans as soon as she feels Lucifer's lips on her shoulder. She hears him chuckle, feels another kiss between her shoulder blades while his hand on the sheets moves back to her waist. She groans, louder, keeps her eyes shut. His lips stay there, peckering the fine curve of skin, from the base of her neck to the fabric of her blue top.
"G'wy..."
Another chuckle that makes her shiver. "And what was that?"
Chloe gives him a weak shrug as an answer, sighing deeply when his hand moves to her tight under the sheet. She moves, barely, her heel hitting his calf. "Ow! Touchy-touchy, are you?"
His breath brush her hair, her earlobe ; quickened with her last grumpy reaction to his morning ministrations. "You are touching me," she replies groggily.
"I'm serving a noble purpose, darling. You, on the other hand, are touching without other's consent."
"Am I?" His hand stay still on her lap, now. She doesn't do anything against it. "And what is this purpose of yours exactly, hm?" she asks him, not turning around, not opening her eyes yet, not once.
"Well, an answer for a kiss, what do you say?" he proposes.
She can picture him smiling in her back, this damn smirk on his lips...
"You, the Devil, are asking me a favor? 'Must still be asleep…."
"I'm a living dream, indeed. Anyhow, I'd rather see it like a 'give and take' situation, usual partnership."
"Right," she sighs, yet turning slightly on her back. "Because that would make no sense the other way round."
Eyes shut, she lifts her head from the pillow, waits and meets the Devil's lips with hers. The kiss meets each other arousal, awakens it as soon as her lips open to 'see' what her eyes cannot. Mind-boggling feelings on the tip of their tongues.
Lucifer looks quite dazed indeed when she lies back.
Chloe frowns. She has opened her eyes, has she?
He can't take his eyes off her, touching her wherever he's allowed to; and she'd be damned if she found anything to say against it now that her eyes are open for good. Her body is open to him, to whatever his purpose is. His hand stops at the back of her left knee, soft touch on sensitive sleepy skin. "I must admit... my thoughts never make sense when I kiss you."
She hums, lifts her hips and grabs his arm - strong muscles of perfection. "Purpose?" she asks once more, her breath fast and vibrant with arousal.
Lucifer arches an eyebrow. "I'm getting close to it, I see... I 'hear', actually."
"Hear? Hear what?"
Lucifer's smile widens as much as his grip on her leg tightens, finally turning into unexpected pinches near her weak spot. She yelps and beats her legs, throwing the sheets at the foot of the bed. Her foot hits Lucifer's ribs who flinches, yet doesn't let go of her. They struggle against a backdrop of laughs and yelps for a moment, Chloe eventually winning the fight when her skull hits Lucifer's chin from below. He groans and lets her go, losing his balance with his right foot still imprisoned in the sheets, then falling backwards with a thud.
"Lucifer!" Chloe exclaims.
It doesn't take her long to catch her breath and climb off the bed, lesser time to kneel beside him on the floor. He lifts his hand to his chin, the other on the back of his neck, smirks and laughs forgotten in an instant.
"You're okay?"
"Fine. Clearly not the result I was looking for, but-" he groans, rubbing his sore jaw.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be, love. This is all my doing, I'm the only one to blame here."
She places both her hands on his cheeks, rubs sore skin and morning stubble with sun-up through the ajar window. "Will you ever tell me what was your purpose?"
"Just an experience - nothing serious, yet undoubtedly fascinating. See, I heard you once, but never again. Not once in three years, it is bloody upsetting!" he explains, his forehead leans forward hers, finds her touch as easily as their mixed breath. He's the one who's shutting his eyes now.
"What it is?"
"Your Albanian field wench snores, dear. Well, it sounded like... like nothing comparable in the world, actually. Albanian sounds were the closest I'd been able to find at the time. See? I really need to hear that sound again."
Chloe moves back, offering sounds of disbelief to him. "I didn't! I'm not and won't sound like any Albanian field wench, Lucifer! Ever!"
"Reminds me something you said before, didn't you?" He smirks, unconsciously moves forwards, searching her lips. "Haven't we slept together since, mh?"
He shivers short after, unsurprisingly sensitive to the cold. The Devil… sensitive to the cold, so obvious. "Feels like Hell has frozen to me."
"Not a chance we sleep together again if you keep compare me with field wench..." she mutters in a sulky tone.
"Who sows the Devil's love collects his arousal, dear." With these words, Lucifer's arousal looks all the more obvious, if not totally exposed since the moment he fell from the bed. Long seedling of desire that demands her attention.
She smiles. "So much hard work left to do..."
He hums his approval, his hands around her wrists while she uses hers to reunite their lips. Lucifer falls once more, although slowler; taking Chloe with him - experienced field wench against his fertile soil. Yesterday, last night had been a nightmare, this morning would be dreamy.
It couldn't be otherwise with a morning star, could it?
"Care to make that sound for me, love?"