Sometimes there were moments when Lucifer could only laugh at people. They always got so many things wrong. For example, thinking how important they are. Or that angels are fluffy little helpers. Or that Heaven's Prince was the most innocent being ever.

Oh, how much he would give to see their faces in moments like this. When Michael had him pinned to the cold wall behind him; when they were just close enough to feel each other, but not close enough to satisfy either of them.

When their hips rocked together just like that, when their lips met in harsh and quick kisses. He could feel his knees giving up, exactly like every time before, when his brother would take him in the most wonderful way possible- teeth biting, nails digging into his skin, hands tangled in his hair.

He was Michael's bitch and he would make sure everyone knew so. His own lips on his neck, on his collarbones, leaving more than just visible hickeys wherever he went. He wouldn't just moan, he would scream Michael's name into oblivion, so even Heaven would know what he was doing.

There were very little things he loved, but 'rough' surely was one of them, right next to 'Michael'. And when the two combined, he was in his own little heaven, drunk from the sweet smell that was so indistinctively like his brother; from how he held him tightly against himself.