Letseatpeople

In the beginning, there were eagles. They were glorious birds, proud and strong and full of silent strength, noble and wise. And they were hailed as the Kings of the sky, and they ruled the Ether without opposition. Their King was the eldest of all eagles, a wise and powerful bird whose name they dared not speak, for to do so would have been to defame Him. And the King had a favourite, one eagle, a proud, beautiful raptor whose feathers shone like a thousand suns and whose eyes sparked with the wisdom of a million years. And all other eagles loved this one, for he was also kind and gentle and caring and noble. But the King felt that eagles s

A cool hand traces over his shoulder, leaving faint trails of crackling energy on bare human skin. Blue eyes, so saturated, like a tropical sea, yet frozen and full of aeons of hurt, gaze up into his own. The solid weight of Nick's arm around his stomach seems too human, too normal, but Sam doesn't care. He simply wants Lucifer to tell him why he's here, to promise him he'll leave after this is over. To his disbelief, Sam sees a tear track down Nick's face, and ancient blue eyes shine with pain and confusion. He doesn't understand. Lucifer should not be crying, should not be able to cry. He's not human, yet the wounded look in his eyes and t

"Show me the stars, please." Lucifer smiles at his lover, eyes narrowed playfully, and pushes Sam onto his back. He folds huge, magnificent wings around the bigger man, feathers soft and so much warmer than the rest of him. "I'll make you see stars, alright. Close your eyes. I want to show you how angels feel things. Do I have your permission?" Sam's eyes widen, instead of shutting, and he nods breathlessly. As soon as his eyelids close he feels cool fingers gently tracing over his chest, and Lucifer's mind enveloping his. Instantly he brushes his angel's shoulder, and gasps. The touch feels electric, heat coursing through his veins, and un

Soft singing wakes Sam from his slumber. He catches two voices, and one of them is definitely Lucifer's. He can't place the other one, but he thinks it might be Castiel. The Seraphim sings beautifully (all of them do), his voice clear and strong, but it's not for nothing Lucifer is titled the "Angel of Music". His voice would make Ramazotti cry and kill himself. The way it carries, the clarity, the pure, unbridled love in it, serve to make the Morning Star the best singer even Dean has ever heard. Sam loves it when Lucifer sings him to sleep, voice no longer powerful, but even more full of tenderness and devotion, and his angel slips beside h