There are rules for a reason. Lucifer's not supposed to mess with them when they're hunting because the power imbalance here is already well and truly fucked, and Sam isn't about to invite Lucifer to interfere where he shouldn't. Although, maybe he should have been less focused on Lucifer hypothetically being too helpful and making their efforts obsolete and more on the fact that Lucifer can make himself into a nuisance when he really wants to. Between him showing up when they were talking to the survivors, and distracting Sam when he was trying to research, and what happened at the morgue (which he is not thinking about ever again,) he's more than proven that he can be a pain in the ass.
And where Dean took it at face value that the devil was getting his kicks pissing them off, Sam's not angry. He's worried. Lucifer is, without a doubt, arrogant and difficult and petty, but he doesn't act without reason. Sam takes a step back, breathes, looks at how he's acting. Only then does he approach Lucifer with the knowledge in hand to take care of the problem.
Or, maybe more accurately, Lucifer comes to him. Sam's in the shower when he hears something in the other room fall and shatter on the floor. He nearly slips when he snaps towards the noise. He's barely gotten out of the shower when he hears it happen again. A third time as he's pulling the bathroom door open, on edge and expecting a fight. All he gets is Lucifer sitting at the tiny table the motel provided them with, staring at a pile of glass on the floor. Sam's about to ask what's happening when Lucifer blinks, and the glass reforms on the table. Lucifer looks up at him. Makes eye contact.
He knocks the glass off the table again. It shatters.
Sam sighs.
"Clean that up," he says. Lucifer looks at the shards on the ground.
"Why should I?" As though he hasn't broken and remade the same glass three times now. Sam goes to his bag to start getting dressed. He feels uncomfortably damp, but he's got the sneaking suspicion that if he leaves the room now to go get a towel, more things are going to start breaking. Things that are more valuable than a cup.
"Because if you don't, I'm probably going to forget about it and step on a shard." Sam has had glass pierce his skin more than enough times in his life, thanks. When he turns back after having pulled on his pants, there's no more glass on the ground and Lucifer is frowning at nothing. He turns his gaze on Sam like it's a challenge. Sam doesn't falter. "Is there a reason you're being a brat?" Lucifer doesn't answer, only narrows his eyes. Sam shakes his head and tries to approach him.
"Are you going to punish me?" Lucifer says, glib and sharp, but the way he tenses when Sam comes closer betrays him. Sam can't hurt him, except in the ways that matter. Lucifer waits for rejection like it's a blade against the back of his neck. This is him goading Sam to swing.
"Yes," Sam says, and the way Lucifer actually relaxes at that breaks his heart. It's as though one of these days, he thinks Sam will actually follow that up by trying to hurt him. Sam reaches out to touch him instead. Lucifer looks confused when that's all he does, hand resting against the curve of Lucifer's jaw, feeling stubble prick against his palm. Sam lets it stay there for a minute. Lucifer remains frozen under the touch. He will understand that this is how Sam will punish him. Sam strokes his cheek. "Come lay on the bed with me." Lucifer tilts his head away from Sam's hand, but Sam follows, pressing warmth into Lucifer's chilly skin.
"What?" Lucifer asks.
"Come lay down," Sam repeats, slower. If Lucifer feels condescended to, then tough, Sam has to be as clear as possible to get through to him.
"That isn't a-"
"You don't get to decide." Sam withdraws his hand. For all that Lucifer was trying to lean away from it, he still looks miserable that Sam's not touching him anymore. Sam turns and walks back to the bed. He always gets one big enough for Lucifer and him to share, now. (And Dean gets to have a whole room to himself. It's a win-win.) For a minute after he lays down, he's not sure Lucifer will follow him. He's stuck sitting across the room, staring at Sam like he's lost it. He stands slowly, unsure, and he stills again.
Sam pats the empty space next to him. Lucifer jerks forward like Sam just-
Yanked on his leash is not a thought Sam should be having about Lucifer right now.
He far more dressed than Sam is. The first step is getting him on the bed. The second is getting his coat and over-shirt off. His jeans have to go, too, and that leaves Lucifer half-naked and kneeling in front of Sam on the bed, fists clenched against his bare thighs. Sam reaches up and touches his face again. Lucifer's confusion returns, though now there's a touch more panic in his eyes. Sam holds back from shushing him like he's a scared animal. Instead, he lets his hand slide back, under Lucifer's ear, brushing the short hair at the bottom of his skull, and then holding firmly onto the back of his neck. When Sam pulls him down, Lucifer resists. Sam pulls him down anyway.
Sam keeps his hand on the back of Lucifer's neck, firm and unbreakable. If he really wanted to leave, there's no amount of force Sam could exert to stop him, but when Lucifer struggles, he doesn't make Sam's hand budge an inch. Eventually, he stops. He stays tense against Sam. Sam promised punishment, and punishment for Lucifer has only meant pain and isolation for a long time. This, Sam knows, will be much harder for him to bear and far more effective. Sam settles back.
I want to be kind to you. I want to be gentle. I know you can't believe this because you don't know what it looks like, but that's all I want for you, forever, but Sam can't say any of that. Lucifer will lash out at it as a lie or recoil from it as pity, and so this is the only way Sam can get him to accept it. They dress it up at a struggle and ignore how badly Lucifer wants to let him win. He lets the hand at Lucifer's neck drift up through his hair and then back down again, one slow stroke. Lucifer doesn't make a break for it, and so Sam does it again and again.
"Stop," Lucifer says. Sam can barely hear him, even though there's not an inch between them. He keeps petting Lucifer's hair.
"It's a punishment," he says. "You don't choose when it stops. I do." Lucifer breathes. It's unsteady. Sam keeps petting him. He drinks in Lucifer through every sense, feels the coolness of his skin under his palm as he smooths his hand a little further down to his spine, smells the overwhelming scent of magnolias mixed with something that leaves an aftertaste like pennies on the back of Sam's tongue, hears the way Lucifer struggles to keep himself breathing slowly.
"Stop," Lucifer begs a second time, even softer.
"No." Lucifer shudders. Sam wraps his hand over the back of Lucifer's neck again and squeezes. "You want me to forgive you for being frustrating all day, right?" Lucifer doesn't answer, but his head is bowed, his forehead pressed to Sam's shoulder. Sam shifts to move his leg before it cramps from the odd position he put it in, and he bumps Lucifer's, dropping his hand down to Lucifer's thigh to help him get comfortable. As he moves Lucifer, he feels the devil go limp like a ragdoll in Sam's arms. He's soothingly heavy. (Angels are dense, in more ways than one.) "This is how you earn that. Be good for me, Lucifer. Hold still while I touch you."
Lucifer makes a strangled noise, muffled against Sam's shoulder. It sounds like no.
He needs more if Sam is really set on breaking him down. Sam massages behind Lucifer's shoulders as he turns his head to kiss him. They're only soft butterfly kisses that Sam lands on his temples and the top of his head. Even that makes Lucifer squirm, reeling back against the barricade of Sam's hand. Like it's nothing, Sam's touch stops an archangel in his tracks. Seeing Lucifer's face lets Sam know how well this is working. He still looks confused, but he's relaxed, eyes glassy. Some part of him knows to trust Sam. In return for that trust, Sam leans in and places kisses all over Lucifer's face. His nose deserves a few, and so do his cheeks, and his eyebrows, and his forehead, and finally, his lips. Lucifer doesn't have the time to kiss back with how quickly Sam leaves a smooch there and backs off to find a new spot for his next one.
"Good," Sam praises between kisses, "good, so good..." and though it's simple, it's effective. Lucifer tries to escape from the praise, but he has nowhere to go and looking away only exposes more untouched spots for Sam to kiss. Sam trails kisses over Lucifer's chin and jaw and down his neck.
"Sam, please." Sam has fucked Lucifer harder than anyone else he's ever been with. He's pulled his hair, bitten him raw, bruised him black and blue until his vessel heals. He's spanked Lucifer over his lap, and he's tied him up, and he's used every other trick in the book to make him behave. None of those punishments could make Lucifer sound like he does right now.
"I think you deserve more," Sam says, merciless. Lucifer exhales, overwhelmed and as desperate for this onslaught of affection to end as he is to never be let go. Sam starts kissing him again, but he lingers on each kiss now and he varies up his praise, sprinkling in more and more specifics, like "You're such a beautiful angel," and "See how lovely you are when you're not trying to pick a fight?" He kisses just next to Lucifer's ear and whispers to him, "Next time you want attention, I expect you to say something and not start breaking things. Understand?" Lucifer swallows. "If it happens again, I'm going to punish you even worse next time. How would you like me to massage your wings and groom out all the messy feathers?"
"I'm sorry," Lucifer says, and there's a lilt to it, like he's wondering if all it'll take to get out of this is to admit his guilt. Sam doesn't plan on letting up any time soon.
"Apology accepted. You still have to earn your forgiveness. We're almost done." Sam begins running his hands over Lucifer's entire body, seeking vulnerability and since he knows exactly where to look, he finds it. Angels wear vessels strangely, connect to nerves in odd places more than others. Lucifer has patches of skin at his hip and his belly and the back of his calf that are more sensitive than anywhere else on his body, excluding right between his shoulderblades, which Sam is already using to make him melt in his arms. Lucifer isn't trying to get away anymore (if Sam could even call it that with how little effort he put into it.) He's shaking like he can't help it, full-bodied tremors every time Sam grazes a sensitive spot, accompanied by gasps that rush Sam's ears.
He wraps his arms around Lucifer in a hug and pulls him in tight.
He squeezes and squeezes. Lucifer makes little noises like he can't stand it that slowly quiet as Sam's body heat radiates into him, his soul drawing in Lucifer's grace. Sam feels himself calm down, too. Lucifer's grace always has that effect on him. Sam savors it, and the way Lucifer finally gives in. This is exactly what he needed. "I love you," Sam says. "I forgive you. You're so good for me."
Sam holds him for a few long minutes. This, plus what they'd done beforehand, was the longest Lucifer had ever gone.
So it doesn't surprise Sam when Lucifer finally says, "Cage. Sam, cage, now." Sam instantly releases Lucifer, no hand on the back of his neck, no arms around him, nothing keeping him still. He looks extremely overwhelmed as he falls back out of Sam's lap, and for a moment, Sam thinks he's taken it too far.
"Lucifer-" Without thinking, Sam reaches out a hand to touch Lucifer's arm. Lucifer flinches, withdrawing his arm, and Sam makes a soothing noise. He doesn't try to touch Lucifer again. That's not the kind of comfort he needs right now. Sam gets off the bed, giving Lucifer a minute alone to reorient himself. He searches around in his packed bags for first, a blanket Sam bought for Lucifer, one he showed interest in because of the texture, and second, one of Sam's shirts. It's washed, but it still smells like him from being tossed in with the rest of his clothes. Sam offers them to Lucifer, and they're taken gratefully. Lucifer wraps the blanket around himself, but he doesn't put on the shirt. He holds it close to his chest instead. With that, Sam gives him space.
He just put Lucifer through a lot. He needs a minute to recover.
"The hug was a nice touch," Lucifer says when he's a little more put together, though Sam still doesn't put a hand on him, wary of setting him off.
"It wasn't too much?"
"No. It was nice, until-" Sam grins at being reassured that he did the right thing for Lucifer.
"Until it wasn't?" he asks.
"Exactly." Sam sits down on the bed near Lucifer. He still leaves a firm boundary of personal space between them. Touch will be overwhelming to him right now, but even having Sam's soul too close, automatically trying to tangle up with Lucifer's grace, might be too much. "You were right. I should have asked for it."
"You're forgiven," Sam reemphasizes, and Lucifer hmphs. "If we're trying to set more realistic standards for you to meet next time, than I'll settle for you not disrupting a hunt. You can't do that." Lucifer pouts, clutches Sam's shirt closer to his chest.
"I... will try not to. Next time." Sam gets the urge to lean over and kiss him. He doesn't, but he lets his gaze linger on Lucifer's mouth and stores it away to do later, when Lucifer's more open to touch.
"Good," Sam says, "because I will do worse to you. I don't make empty threats."
"How terrible. You're going to pet my wings if I misbehave." Lucifer's words are flippant, but his tone is a little more unsure.
"You can handle it," Sam reassures. "If you can't, one word and we stop, but I know that you can. Trust me." Lucifer smiles.
"I do." Sam's already got plans spinning in his head for the next time Lucifer needs Sam to be gentle with him and can't accept it. He'll really get Lucifer squirming. Maybe Sam will even get him to beg for it to stop as his wings flex and beat and submit. All while knowing that if Lucifer wanted it to actually end, he'd safeword. There is something so intoxicating about having the devil under him, pleading for Sam to stop showing him how much he's loved. Sam is never going to get over it.
It's a good thing he doesn't plan to stop loving Lucifer anytime soon, than.