A/N: Ohmygodohmygodohmygod! It's almost here! Haha. I wanted to get this out before Wednesday night, and I just barely got it out. I'm sure that there will be a huge hiatus from writing and reading after tomorrow night, so this will be here for whenever everyone returns. haha. It's HIGHLY unedited, so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Like I said, just wanted to get this out for you guys. To answer all the questions about Lucifer's past, this chapter is Lucifer-centric, and goes into some detail about his past. Happy watching!
Like the good boy he could pretend to be, he did what the Professor told him to do. He went inside his apartment, grabbed a piece of three-day-old pizza from the fridge, a bottle of water, and sat on his bed. He scarfed down the slice, chewing the crust as he started to take off his shoes and socks. Every action felt like he had been running for miles. He gulped down half the bottle of water before attempting to disrobe himself further.
With shirt and pants off, he sat on his bed once again, trying to collect himself from the spinning room around him. He could faintly feel the vibrations coming from the floor, the buzz sound just barely audible through the fog of his mind. He pat around the ground until he found the brick in his pants' pocket, looking down at the screen for the message that was left and groaning. He knew Maze was pissed by the lack of correct capitalization and punctuation. She informed him that she had covered for him the previous night, but he absolutely had to show up for work that night.
Maze, the loyal friend who knew better than to ask what he had been up to. How he had managed to stay friends with her after they stopped sleeping together, he wasn't sure. They just clicked, knew each other better than any other person could. She didn't judge him for his habits, and he didn't judge her for her particular hobbies. They were, one could say, a team, albeit a fucked up one, but a team they were.
Peeling away his final layer, he turned the shower on, almost as hot as it would go, as per his post-bender ritual. He admitted that whenever those pesky feelings became just too much, he would completely obliterate himself for a few days. Wipe his mind's slate clean of all the parts of himself that felt something and deposit them into whoever he spent his time with. He had been the sad lay, the angry lay, the hateful lay, and the desperate lay for many people. Fucking his emotions into someone else was the only way to express them safely.
The hot water scalded away what remained of his lost days, revealing a new soul and skin to taint until he had to release it all blindly again. There wasn't much he regretted in life, but he always felt a tinge of disgust when he finally came down from his drunken high. From what he could remember, he had drank and taken anything he could, and he had done anyone he could. To them he was just some random fuck from whatever bar or club they were at. To him, they were vessels he emptied his soul into. Everyone he had been with held a small fraction of what threw him down the rabbit hole. He appreciated them in taking his pain so willingly, however he needed to give it.
He looked down at himself, noticing the spattering of bite and suck marks all over him, in various stages of healing. Luckily, his sexual partners had all been clear-headed enough to leave them in places that were easily covered up. He had nearly been fired when he had shown up for work with his entire neck looking like it belonged to a damn Dalmatian. He laughed a little at the memory, shampooing his hair and lathering his body, washing days of sweat and bodily fluids away. He turned the water off, letting loose droplets fall down his tall frame before drying off with the towel.
He slung the towel lowly around his hips after roughly drying his hair. He walked back into his room, checking his phone and seeing a few more messages from Maze. Nothing of urgency, just asking him to come in a little early, to have a drink together before their shifts started. He tapped his agreeing reply before plugging the device in setting it on the nightstand. Slipping on a pair of boxier briefs, he tossed the towel to the side before hoping into bed. He needed a few hours of sleep before his class later that afternoon, then he would have to head straight to work. Lucifer laid in bed, feeling how easily sleep could come over him, but anxious about what would happen once he lulled out of consciousness. It always happened after his binges. It was unavoidable, but nonetheless traumatizing.
He was back at home. The home he had before Los Angeles. The home where everything started and ended for him. It was like walking through the halls of his mind; eerie and familiar. He hadn't been back there is five years, hadn't seen any of his family in that long, either. The dark corridors or the large estate were fuzzy around the edges, reminding him he was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming, but he could never wake up, not before he relived everything again.
He had just returned from a job (if you could call it that) his father had given to him. A job he had done for a few years now, even at the ripe age of 22. It had not gone as planned, to say the least. He had tried to move freely under his father's realm, and it had caught up with him. He was tired of being goon, tired of being told where to go and when, who to hurt without an explanation as to why. He wasn't afforded whys; he was expected to do what he was told, like some goddamned puppet. Was wanting to make some decisions regarding his actions really too much to ask?
It all started with Eve, his long-term job. Eve was a drug mule and call girl for his father. She brought drugs to all of his high-end clients, and was instructed to give them her body if they wanted. They always wanted. It was Lucifer's job to ensure she arrived to her destination, had the proper amount of product, and was returned to her home in good shape. He was also there to teach the clients a lesson if they felt the need to get a little too rough with her.
One night, he found one of the clients strangling her. He ripped the fat, sweaty man off of her, breaking every one of his fingers before smashing his hands with his heel. He carried her out of the house and laid her down in the back seat of the car, stroking hair behind her ear and wiping away her tears. Once back at her place, she brought him inside and took him to bed, because that's all she knew how to do. When he came inside her that night, he promised her that his father's clients would never touch her again. Perhaps he had been too naïve to promise anything like that, but they were both young and already down a horrible path.
He remembered the weeks after that night with her. Eve was still delivering drugs, was still the pretty thing clients paid and harassed, but Lucifer was by her side the entire time. As soon as a man tried to touch her, he was given a firm warning of a wrist lock. They were all told she was no longer their entertainment. It had been a wonderful few weeks, doing their jobs and then fucking in the car outside of her house. It was the happiest he had been, and all of that came crashing down once his father found out about his decision. That wasn't all that was realized, however. Lucifer had a lot of wrongs to pay for.
Turns out Eve had been slipping product under Lucifer's lenient watch. She had played him, even after he had risked his father's punishment to keep her safe. On the night that everything went down between him and his family, he had learned, first hand, what it felt like to be completely betrayed and rejected by your family and everyone you cared about.
It had been a normal day. He had harassed a few people that pissed off his father and he had snorted enough coke to please three wonderful ladies he found waiting for his father for hours. He had gone out for a pack of smokes that night. He could still remember the chill in the air as he walked through the doors to a dark house. He should have known something was going to happen, but he was too blissed out to care. After the reminiscing, this was the part of his dream he always started with and came back to. The part where his older brother swung a tire iron into his ribs as he reached for his bedroom door. He didn't even see him in the shadows.
The pain was immediate and intense, forcing him to clutch his side as he collapsed to the ground. He coughed a few times, turning his head up to see Michael standing to the side of him, a scared expression on his face. "What the fuck?!" Lucifer choked out, shuffling to his knees, his hands splayed out on the ground in front of him, holding him up.
"You know what this is about," the older man sneered, pacing in front of him. He watched Lucifer push himself up onto his feet, hands on his knees, his head tilting up to look at him.
"Not a bloody clue," Lucifer retorted, leaning into his side, breathing heavily. "So tell me, what have I done?" He grunted as he tried to straighten himself, but fell back to his bent over position.
"We don't fuck the help, Lucifer!" Michael spat, punching him square in the mouth. He pulled back, shaking his hand, his knuckles bleeding from making contact with teeth. Lucifer fell back to a kneeling position, his forearms bracing his upper body on the ground.
"Oh, come now, Brother. I was the only man she wanted to fuck," he laughed, wincing into his undoubtedly broken ribs, spitting blood onto the floor next to him. "You may be able to leave a woman wanting, but I can't." He tongued at the cut in the corner of his lower lip, taking in the damage. He could feel himself wheezing with every breath, but he refused to let his brother know he was hurt.
"This isn't a joke," Michael started, his voice sounding pained, but angry. "That's not even the worst of it, Brother." He held on to the tire iron, gripping it tightly, his hands shaking. Lucifer could see him fighting in his head and a cold comprehension washed over him. He knew what his brother was told to do.
"What else did I do, Michael? Hm?" Lucifer asked, his voice rising as much as it could. He felt a weight in his chest, a constriction on the side he was hit, as if that lung was not inflating. He watched his brother start to pace, looking at him on the ground occasionally. "What else have I fucking done besides give myself over to our tyrant of a father?" He tried yelling but the inability to fully expand his chest kept his voice much quieter than he had hoped. He started to move to stand, stumbling a little, letting a wheeze escape his lips as he rolled his shoulders up. They were the same size, neither man able to look down at the other. They just had to stare straight into each other's eyes, unable to look away and submit
"You let that bitch play you, Lucifer," he replied, bringing the iron up and swinging down onto the top of Lucifer's shoulder. The force of the blow knocked him flat to the ground. A shock wave rolled through his body, his mind taking a second to register the pain before it erupted. Lucifer groaned, his hands forming fists next to his head as he tried to get back up. "She stole product right out from under your nose. You were too busy fucking her and playing her hero to notice."
"What?" Lucifer breathed out, coughing again as he shakily got back up to his knees. He didn't even try to get up further, knowing it would lead to failure. The wheezing was unavoidable at this point, so he allowed himself to get as much oxygen into his lungs as possible, even though one was rendered almost useless. His brother's words bore into his brain, conflicting with everything he thought he knew about his relationship with Eve.
"Yeah, she manipulated you, and then she sold you out so that she could walk away freely," he finished, looking his younger brother directly in the eyes. The light from the moon illuminated the hallway, shining into dark eyes as they glared at each other. "She told us you knew about her stashing away product and that you planned to start undermining Father."
"I didn't know about that," Lucifer whispered to himself, his eyes shining with emotional revelation. It had all been fake, a lie. Eve had used his naiveté to get away from this life. In all honestly, he really couldn't blame her, but it was the deceit and the betrayal that stung. "I just thought-" he started, unable to finish his sentence before Michael moved to stand in front of him.
The older brother reached forward and grabbed a fitful of Lucifer's hair, bending down to be eye level with him on his knees. "Looks like the pretty boy thought with his cock and not his head," he sneered, pushing him back, making him fall from his kneeling position to lay propped on his side. He was being backed towards the large glass doors leading to the balcony where the night sky, glittering with stars, could easily be seen.
Michael swung and broke the glass behind Lucifer's back, the deafening sound was drowned out by the atmosphere of the outdoors. Lucifer could feel the sprinkling of glass everywhere and barely had time to comprehend the situation before Michael was dragging him by the collar. He could feel the glass digging and ripping into the skin of his back as he cried out, trying to break free from his hold.
"Why couldn't you just do what you were told?" Michael asked in a scream, yanking Lucifer from the ground by the front of his tattered shirt. The younger brother groaned in pain, but managed to stand on his own feet, holding on to his brother's shoulders.
"I'm tired of being a mindless tool," Lucifer admitted, the wheezing making it harder and harder for him to breathe. "Just continue to be the loyal son, Michael, and do what you have to," he instructed, nodding his head in understanding. It wasn't his brother's fault. Obedience had been ingrained in them from the start of their lives. The notion of ever going against their Father was unheard of. He couldn't blame him for doing what they all had always been forced to do. Obey. Lucifer squeezed Michael's shoulders, accepting defeat and taking the punishment he had been dealt.
"You brought this on yourself, little Brother," Michael whispered, tears welling in his eyes as he pushed Lucifer over the rail of the balcony with a roar. Lucifer screamed, he could feel himself scream not in his dream, but in his slowly waking self.
He startled awake, panting and gasping for air, his entire body covered in a light sheen on sweat. He always woke up before he hit the ground, the sensation of falling stirring him from the nightmare he constantly relived. He wore the scars from that day in his mind and on his back, going mostly unnoticed by his lovers due to their inebriated states. The few that did notice either forgot about them when he refused to answer their questions or pretended to ignore them. They were a bittersweet reminding for him of the family he lost, but the freedom he gained.
He checked his watch, he still had a couple hours before his class started, but he had to find a way back to campus since he didn't have his car. Thank you, Professor. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he rubbed his side where he could feel the jagged way his ribs had healed. He took a deep breath, calming his heartbeat to a normal rhythm before standing, stretching his long limbs and combing his fingers through his hair.
Lucifer got dressed quickly, finding a pair of slacks and a white button-down. He slid a belt through the loops before sliding into his shoes, and there he was. Well, mostly. He needed some caffeine and whiskey and he would be his normal self. While he waited for the coffee to brew, he grabbed his phone and called Maze. He could have knocked on her door, since she was just down the hall, but he knew she would be sleeping and wouldn't answer the door.
After grumbling for a minute straight, she agreed to drive him to campus, telling him he owed her a huge tip at work. When she knocked on his door ten minutes later, he handed her a to-go cup of spiked coffee while sipping on his own, walking out the door leaving her to close it. She took a long sip before following him out of the building, savoring his heavy pour of whiskey.
"So where's your car?" Maze asked, pulling out of her spot expertly with one hand, the other still holding on to her coffee. Her sunglasses covered her eyes, but he could tell she was squinting from the L.A. sun and from sleep. She really was a great friend, even if she pretended not to be.
"On campus. I was, apparently, too fucked up to drive myself back home," Lucifer replied, adjusting his own sunglasses as he leaned into the passenger side window.
"You were that bad, huh?" she asked, chuckling, her voice still thick with sleep. She would occasionally glance over to look at him. Although put together, she could still see the red around his eyes, now a more dark pink, signaling his slow recovery from another ritualistic binge.
"No," he snorted, sliding down in the seat to get more comfortable. "I drove myself there, it's just my professor-".
"The one you've been talking about? The sexy cop one?" Maze asked, interrupting him. She looked over at him, her mouth slightly open in a grin. She waited for him to continue, but when he just played with the cuff of his shirt, avoiding her gaze, she knew the answer. "Did she take you home?"
"I might have shown up to her class a little…. disheveled," he defended, still averting his gaze away from her, knowing she was grinning ear to ear eagerly. "Might have made a bit of a scene, so she kicked me out and sent me to her office," he added, braving to look over at his friend.
"Oh, that's so hot," Maze sighed, turning her hand in a circle through the air, urging him to continue. "Please tell me she spanked you, too," she gasped
"Unfortunately not," he said with a sigh. "She seems intent on following the rules, former cop and all." His disappointment was obvious, and Maze had never seen him so bent out of shape about someone. Usually, he would get what he wanted, and if, rarely, he couldn't, he would move on to the next willing subject.
"Oh, no," she inhaled sharply, feigning fear. "Has someone lost their mojo?" she finished with a snicker, earning her a light shove from Lucifer.
"Definitely not!" he exclaimed, straightening the collar of his shirt. "I'll figure something out," he added, more to himself than to Maze. He could see the entrance of the campus approaching, so he downed the rest of the coffee. Maze finished her cup as well, tossing both containers into the backseat of the car.
"Wow, she's really getting to you, huh?" Maze asked softly, noticing the way Lucifer sat quiet and slumped, looking out of the window but not seeing anything.
"I don't know," he responded honestly, running his hand down his face. "I haven't been sleeping well, is all." He adjusted the seat belt across his chest, smoothing down wrinkles in his shirt, a motion he always did when he started to feel uncomfortable.
Maze narrowed her eyes, taking in his appearance. He looked great, but the tired, pink-rimmed eyes gave away his mental strain under the polished shell. "Have that dream again?" she asked, pulling up to his car in the car park.
Lucifer looked around a little confused. He hadn't even realized she had driven through the campus entrance, let alone to where he parked his car that morning. "Yeah, but I'm fine," he assured her, closing his eyes and resting his left hand on her knee. '
Maze turned in the seat to face him, looking at his hand on her leg, contemplating covering his with her hand, but she decided against it. "Okay," she said, biting her lip before nudging at his arm. "Okay smarty-pants, go to class, I want to get a bit more sleep before work."
He chuckled, squeezing her knee before reaching for the handle. "Hey, you're going to be thanking me one day when we open our own place," he said, raising a finger in her direction. "No more working for other people, we'll finally get to do what we want." Before opening the door, he leaned over and gave her a quick peck to the forehead. "Thanks, love. I'll see you later."
Maze always had to hide her blush when he did that. She was fine with just being his friend, but every time he got close, she would be reminded of the last time she felt his body move over hers. "Remember, you owe me!" she shouted as he walked to his car. He held up a hand in response and watched her drive off. He was looking for something specific, something he couldn't find at his apartment when he woke up. There was no way he was going to a bland management strategies class without his flask.
He searched everywhere: in the glove box, under the seats, in the console, and he couldn't find it anywhere. He had it with him this morning… and then it dawned on him. The Professor had taken it from him when she was driving him home and never gave it back. He groaned, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips when he remembered the stern look she gave him, the faintest grin on those pink lips. At least he knew he would get it back, and, as a bonus, he would get to see her before class the next week.
With a long sigh, he accepted his predicament and starting walking towards the business building. He loved the way the afternoon sun shone through the architecture of the school, although he missed the old buildings and streets of his home country, he appreciated the youth of America. As he walked, he received the occasional glance from passing students and faculty alike, never missing a step. He would give a small smile to ones he found interesting, but never stopped to talk.
Looking up into the crowd as he approached the building, someone caught his eye. A tall, slender woman, wearing a jet-black dress and patent leather heals was strutting in the opposite direction. Without thinking, he looked at her quizzically, recognizing her vaguely. It wasn't until her eyes met his that he remembered exactly where he knew her from. The lady in red. She never faltered in her steps, but a sly smile shone up to her eyes as she made a b-line for him.
"Hello," she greeted, eyeing him from head to toe as if recalling their evening together. She licked her lips before looking back into his eyes, tilting her head to the side.
"Hello, to you, too," he said, brows furrowing as he took in the scene. He had never run into a one-night-stand before, especially when it happened only a few days prior. "Do you work here?" he asked, pointing towards the business building behind them.
"Yes, but not there," she said, tipping her head in the direction of the building. She eyed him again, the cogs in her brain on overdrive. "Come with me," she ordered, turning to walk in the direction Lucifer had been going. He hesitated for a moment, but decided to follow her out of pure intrigue. The commanding nature of this woman was fascinating, and he really wanted an excuse to not go to his class. He followed a few steps behind her as they walked past a few more buildings. He started to recognize their direction and his mouth fell open in surprise.
"You work in the criminal justice department?" he asked incredulously, laughing at the weird twist of fate.
"No, I run the criminal justice department," she corrected, walking into the building and immediately going up the flight of stairs in the atrium. He continued to follow her through the hall until she stopped at two large wooden doors. He looked beside the door and saw the placard with her name on it: Charlotte Richards, J.S.D. At least now he knew her name. As she opened the doors, he noticed that she didn't have a ring on her finger. He hadn't seen one the other night, but wasn't sure if she had just taken one off or not.
Lucifer watched her walk in and perch onto the edge of her desk, her long legs crossing at the knees. He watched her as she slowly adjusted her position, smoothing down her dress as she waited for him to close the doors. He walked over to one of the chairs in front of her desk, the one closest to her. He sat down slowly, watching the way she observed his every move. He sat silently for a moment, his thoughts running ahead of him. As soon as she had said she ran the department, he immediately thought of the Professor, and what knowing someone like Charlotte Richards could do for him.
"So you know my name now," Charlotte started, tilting her head down and raising an eyebrow. "What do you do here?" she asked, waving her hand, gesturing for him to continue.
"Lucifer Morningstar," he said, expression flat. "I'm working on my M.B.A., but I take a course in this building," he added, hoping that would stir some interest in her.
She scrunched her nose, shifting a little on the edge of the desk. "Why do you take a criminal justice class as a business grad student?" Her tone was serious and authoritative, the lawyer in her spilling out.
"I needed an elective, there was an open freshman level course here, so I took it," he answered with a shrug. He lowered down in the seat so that his thigh brushed against her calf. "I wanted something easy."
"I see," she said, looking down at his leg with a heated glare. "Who do you take it with?" She crossed her arms over her chest, pressing her breasts together, giving him a delicious view of her cleavage. He knew what she was doing. She was the type of woman that didn't play games. She made it very clear what she was wanting.
"Professor Decker," he quickly responded, watching as she uncrossed her legs, running a heeled foot up his thigh. He smirked at her when her foot landed close to his hip, just an inch away from where he wanted it. He let her toy with him, but he was coming up with a way to get himself closer to the Professor, in a way that she would have to be okay with. He had never been happier about finding a previous hook-up as he was in that moment.
"How is Professor Decker doing?" Charlotte questioned, pressing the pointed heel of her shoe into his inner thigh. She could hear a low groan and that sent an invisible shiver down her body. She was curious about the new instructor as she had not received any feedback on her.
"She's a fine teacher," Lucifer quipped, wrapping his hand around her ankle in his lap. He pressed his tongue into his cheek, massaging Charlotte's ankle and slightly grinding up into her foot.
She let out a short chuckle and sigh at his touch, raising her eyebrow at him. "Let me guess, you've slept with her, too." There was not judgment in her tone; she was just simply making a statement. Even after one night, she knew there was a pull to him, and she couldn't blame the other woman for hopping, so to speak, after seeing him in her class.
"I haven't, actually," he replied, running his hand up her leg to grasp behind her knee. He massaged the sensitive skin there, watching as the woman shamelessly indulged in his caress. "Not from lack of trying, though."
Charlotte laughed at that, leaning back on her hands propped up behind her. "Yeah, she did seem very by-the-books," she added, pulling her leg out of his lap, urging him to follow it. Lucifer stood slowly, finding a comfortable spot between her legs, but keeping their bodies at a distance.
"I just need some more time with her," he defended, his hands finding a resting place on her thighs. "And with her following the rules, I don't get much time." He leaned forward, letting his lips ghost along the skin of her jaw before dropping to her neck. "Maybe there's a way for you to help me with that." He let his tongue glide over her skin; he could practically taste the primal desire there.
Charlotte reached up and grabbed around his biceps, toying with the material of his shirt. "How could I help with that?" she asked, leaning her head back to give him better access.
"I don't know, find a way for me to work with her, or something," he suggested, kissing along the side of her throat. He felt the smallest of shudders as his lips ran over her pulse, but Charlotte wouldn't let him win that easily.
"Well, she doesn't have a TA," she thought aloud, letting the words trail off into the air. She felt him grin against her throat, nipping skin before standing back up to look her in the eyes.
"Perfect, I can be her TA," he volunteered, reaching down and grabbing the hem of her dress. Charlotte grabbed both of his wrists, stopping his movements, bringing her face close to his.
"Her TA can't be in her class," she told him, releasing his wrists and letting him pull her dress up. Her tanned skin look perfect with the black of her dress and underwear, the lace scalloping along her bikini line.
He brought one hand to her mound, covering her flesh before moving his fingers along her folds, focusing on her clit. "Oh, I'm sure you can figure something out," he whispered into her lips, kissing her quickly as he wrapped one of her legs around his hip. She propped her other leg on the chair behind him, rolling her hips into his touch.
"So what do I get out of this?" she moaned, gasping as he pulled her underwear over more to touch his fingers to her heated skin.
"What do you want?" he asked, pressing a long finger inside of her. Her body melted into his hand and he was satisfied in knowing he was getting close to getting what he wanted.
"You," she answered, grabbing the collar of his shirt. She never looked desperate or needy, just hungry, a woman getting what she needed. "Once a week. You see me one night a week, and I'll make you her TA." She closed her eyes for a moment, frustration evident on the lack of friction she was getting.
He obliged, sliding in a second finger and beginning and moderately fast pace. "Deal," he agreed, leaning forward and pressing his lips to hers. He swallowed her moan and felt her hands move to unbutton his shirt. He bent his face down, inhaling her expensive perfume as he licked and bit along the curve of her breasts through the fabric of her dress. Charlotte abandoned her work on his shirt and fell back on her desk, giving Lucifer the opportunity to lift her legs up and place them over his shoulders.
He knelt down, pulling her underwear out of the way before running his tongue through her drenched folds. Her fingers dug into her hair and he worked her with his mouth. He continued to lick and suck at her flesh while thinking about this new arrangement. He hoped the added time with the Professor would help him win her over. He would get to spend time with her in a way that fit into her rule-following attitude. So many possibilities were available to him, and he found himself giddy about it. He didn't consider the cons of his deal with Charlotte Richards, but at that moment, he didn't care. He was going to get what he wanted, he knew it, and he had plenty of time before work to seal the deal.
A/N: Okay... so what did we think? Did that answer a few questions about him? I hope so. If not, I'm sure you'll have some more questions for me. What do we think about this little arrangement? Do you think it'll work or end up fucking everything up? Guess we'll see... Until next time, dark ones.