Chapter Text
“Detective!”
Chloe felt frozen, her breath caught in her throat and her brain unable to form a coherent sentence.
Lucifer was at his piano, sitting at the same bench he had shared with her numerous times since Father Frank had died. It was where she had expected to find him after he had stormed out earlier, leaving her alone to wrap up their case.
It was the fact that he wasn’t alone that took her by surprise.
Very much not alone.
And very much naked.
She had seen him naked before—when he had thought it would be some twisted form of repayment for seeing her naked—but she’d never seen him like this . Not outside of her dreams at least.
One of the most attractive women she’d ever seen was splayed across the piano, her bare ass resting against the keys, legs wrapped around Lucifer with her arms braced against the smooth top. A few red marks blossomed along her collar bones, down the slope of her chest that Lucifer’s mouth had been attached to when Chloe had walked in unannounced.
The woman didn’t seem to mind the intrusion, her bright smile still wide and her dazed eyes roaming over Chloe as if she liked what she saw.
Lucifer made no effort to move, and Chloe tried not to think about the fact that it probably had something to do with the simple truth that he was currently buried deep inside of the woman on top of him.
Her cheeks flushed at the thought, and she could have sworn she saw Lucifer’s eyes darken as he took in the blush on her cheeks. He grinned, an easy and teasing pull of his lips that made some indignant part of her hate that fact that he seemed so comfortable.
Determined to remain just as unbothered as he appeared to be, she cleared her throat. “I just came by to make sure you were okay.”
Lucifer shifted then, rotating his abdomen so that he could get a better look at Chloe, a small whimper from the woman above him filling the room.
“I’m quite alright,” he shot back with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. They both knew it was a lie, the hurt that she had seen on his face over the last few days had been too obvious to miss.
“Okay.” The word came out slowly, her eyes narrowed as she considered him. Part of her wanted to call him out, wanted to push and prod and get him to admit that everything was not alright. But the woman on top of him moved her hand into his mussed curls, stroking and scratching at his scalp. When he leaned into the touch, Chloe felt a flash of something low in her stomach and knew she needed to leave. “I’ll leave you to it then, I guess,” she said, guestering with her hand towards the joined bodies in front of her.
“You could always join us.” His voice was smooth and suggestive, deep and scratchy and the epitome of tempting.
“In your dreams,” Chloe shot back, already stepping into the open elevator. In her dreams, too, she thought sheepishly, shifting her legs to try and quell some of the uncomfortable heat that had pooled inside of her.
“You always are,” he said with a laugh tinged with just a bit of something she couldn’t quite place.
Turning around, she leaned against the cool back wall. With her eyes locked on the man in front of her, she gave him a wicked smile that held some challenge she knew he couldn't resist.
“Sweet dreams then, Lucifer.”
Chloe arched her back, a small and desperate sound slipping out as she chased the touch of her own hand.
The sheets stuck to her flushed and naked body, feeling too hot, too constricting despite the fan filling the room with cool air. Pushing them off, she settled just long enough to reach into her bedside table.
Her hand searched blindly until she found what she was looking for, fingers closing around the obscenely bright red toy she saved for moments like this. When her imagination and hands weren’t enough to satisfy.
She was already close, the images that had filled her dreams leaving her hot and very much bothered by the time she had woken up. In no mood to argue with herself over the morality of her subconscious, she let her mind fill with the same body that frequented her dreams.
When she had walked in on her partner the other night, she knew the flare in her chest had been jealousy. Part of her wanted desperately to be the woman splayed across his piano, but a larger part of her wanted to be the one he spent his nights with after a hard case.
Pushing all thoughts of emotion away, she let her fingers trace along the gentle curves of her body, teasing in the same way she just knew Lucifer would.
Lucifer.
Her partner.
Her best friend—despite her most valiant effort.
The man she had once thought she might have a future with.
The most frequent subject of her dreams regardless of it all.
She closed her eyes, the mental image of his body looming over hers the only coherent thought she had as she let her own arousal coat the toy in her hand. Her free hand found its way to the spot that ached for touch, teasing slow circles against the nerves as she pushed the toy inside.
It was large enough—not as large as she knew Lucifer to be, her brain always seemed to remind her—and while the silicone felt nice, it was no replacement for another body pressing into her.
She let out a small moan she filled herself, some small part of her aching for more—aching for someone else to be doing the honor.
One someone, really.
She was home alone, Trixie staying at Dan’s for the weekend, and she gave herself permission to let her moans fill the otherwise quiet room. Moving her hand slowly, she pulled the toy out all the way before pressing it back in.
Repeating the movement again and again, she teased herself in the same way she always imagined Lucifer would. He would take his time, that much she was sure of, and she would let him.
She was always in control, always the one keeping it together.
She wanted to fall apart.
When the man in her imagination picked up his speed, so did her hands, bringing her closer and closer to the edge of pleasure.
In her hazy, post-sleep state, he could almost convince herself it was real. Almost feel him moving inside of her, faltering as he tried to hold himself together long enough to let her shatter first.
Her breath came out in short pants, the cool air from the fan hitting her flushed body and leaving goosebumps in its wake. Eyes closed, she let herself get that much closer to release, imagining the words he would whisper in her ear, against her skin, into her mouth .
In the quiet of the room, away from the harsh reality that he would never let himself be hers and hers alone, she let his name fall from her lips.
It was then that she heard a gasp from her cracked door, the man that had filled her imagination standing there with his fist poised to knock on her door frozen in the air.
She scrambled to cover herself with the sheets, holding back a whimper as the toy slipped out of her as she sat up. Her mind tried to make sense of the sight in front of her, tried to convince herself it wasn't all some elaborate daydream.
By the time she was covered with the sheet, she felt coherent enough to speak. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Still stunned, Lucifer’s eyes trailed up from where his gaze had been locked between her legs. “Evening the score, it seems,” he said after a deep breath, eyebrows raised in a tease as he leaned against the frame of the door.
“Get. Out.” When he didn’t move, she reached behind her and tossed a pillow at his face. It only served to infuriate her more when he caught it.
“Seems like you wanted me here just a few moments ago.” His voice was steady, smooth as the words slipped out.
“Leave.” His smirk was maddening, and she huffed as she narrowed her gaze into one of pure disdain.
He nodded, pressing his lips together to hide a smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”
“I won’t.” Her blood was pounding in her head, embarrassed and annoyed and angry that he had caught her red-handed. Literally. “And if you ever speak of this to anyone , I will personally see to it that you find yourself with a one-way ticket back to the hell you claim to be from.”
“As you wish,” he said with a dramatic sigh, “ but good to know I might be filling your dreams as well, Detective.” With that, he turned around and walked out, leaving her frustrated in more ways than one as she let herself fall back against the mattress.
“Miss Lopez, what is your favorite color?”
“Yellow,” Ella said as she looked over the bar towards Lucifer with a confused grin. “Why?”
He moved quickly, grabbing various liquors and garnishes as he concocted a drink.
“He’s been very into ‘mixology ’ lately,” Chloe offered with an eye roll. Their last case had involved one of the best bartenders in the city, and Lucifer had been on a quest to claim the title ever since.
When he pushed the glass across the bar, a few drops of yellow liquid sloshed onto the counter. Ella took a sip, a wide smile spreading on her face as she let the alcohol slide down her throat.
“It’s good,” she said, laughing when Lucifer bowed with dramatic flourish.
“And yours, Detective?”
Chloe felt like there was a challenge somewhere in his question, but she couldn’t quite figure it out. “Green,” she answered after a moment.
“Really?” he asked around a smirk, his eyes lighting up with mischief.
She nodded slowly, feeling like she was walking right into some trap she couldn’t see.
He hummed, a curious sound, as he straightened and walked back towards the bar. “Just figured it was red.”
Her cheeks flushed in both anger and embarrassment, heat filling her entire body as her mind filled with images of why he might figure that. His eyes glinted, and if it weren’t for Ella next to her, she might have thrown her glass of water at him.
He laughed as he poured her a glass of red wine that he knew she loved, handing it to her with no care for the glare she was sending him.
“I definitely missed something,” Ella said, eyeing them both as she sipped her drink.
Chloe couldn’t meet her stare, and it felt like a gift from the universe when Linda showed up and insisted that someone join her on the dance floor. As they watched Ella stumble behind the Doctor, Lucifer leaned across the bar.
“Red is your favorite color, Detective.”
She spun around, her face only a few inches from his. He was right, but she didn’t care.
“I told you not to bring it up,” she clipped, refusing to back away.
“Bring what up?” His eyes fell to her lips before meeting hers again. “I was simply making drinks.”
“Go to hell, Lucifer,” she said, grabbing her glass and heading towards her friends.
“Already been there, love,” he laughed out as she left, “no plans on going back anytime soon.”
Throwing a crude gesture over her shoulder, she downed the rest of her drink and willed herself to stop thinking for the rest of the night.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this, Detective.”
Her hand flew to cover her eyes, though she wasn’t sure it really mattered.
“Lucifer,” she started, taking a deep breath, “what are you doing in here?”
She had just finished an evening workout at the precinct, hoping to hop in the shower before going to pick Trixie up from her after school program. She hadn’t expected to find Lucifer naked and dripping wet in the women’s locker room.
“The men’s showers were all taken,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “and they are doing repairs on the plumbing at the penthouse.”
Even with her eyes covered, she knew he had made no move to cover up, and in just a pair of leggings and a sports bra, she felt entirely too exposed.
“Please leave.”
He didn't move. “At this point it seems like the universe is trying to find ways to get us both naked, Detective. Sooner or later we might as well give in.”
She could tell he was smirking, and in an attempt to stand her ground she lowered her hand and met his stare with her own. “Never.”
His eyes raked over her body, and she tried her best to suppress a shiver.
He shrugged, finally making his way towards the towel hanging behind her and making it a point to brush his body against hers. She didn’t turn around, and when he had fastened the towel low around his waist, he stepped closer to her.
“Your loss,” he whispered into her ear.
She did shiver then, his hot breath hitting her sweaty skin.
He walked out of the showers then, and she waited until she heard the door close to strip out of her clothes.
As much as she hated herself for it, she did feel like it was her loss.
She tapped her hand against the denim on her jeans as the elevator rose towards his penthouse. Regardless of the tension between them lately, she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep if she didn’t prove to herself that he was okay.
It had been a close call, too close of a call for her to be comfortable. She had watched their suspect pull the trigger, shouted as the bullet shot through the stillness of the room towards her partner.
For a moment, she was sure that it had found its mark, the silence in the room deafening.
It had just missed Lucifer’s shoulder, skating along the outside of his arm and leaving a trail of blood in its wake.
But Lucifer had acted like it was nothing. Had looked at the spot where a bullet had grazed his skin and joked about their suspect being a bad shot.
She was pissed. And she was scared.
And she was annoyed that he hadn’t cared about his own wellbeing at all.
She squinted as the doors opened, hoping that she wouldn’t find any company with him tonight.
He was sitting at his piano, clad in silk pajama pants and a matching robe, fingers ghosting over the keys and filling the room with a gentle melody.
“Hi, Lucifer,” she said as way of announcement.
He stopped playing, fingers still as he turned his head to look at her.
“Sorry for the lack of a show tonight,” he said, a leering grin on his face.
She walked towards him, giving him a small but sure smile as she took up the spot next to him. “Can’t say I’m sorry.”
His face fell into a neutral gaze, and he let himself take in the woman in front of him.
“I’m sorry about today,” she offered when he said nothing. Regardless of the fact that he was okay, she had failed him.
She was the cop. The one with the gun and the badge. The one with years of training on how to prevent exactly what had happened earlier.
A confused look spread on his face before settling into one of understanding as she reached for the spot the bullet had touched.
“No need for apologies, Detective.” He meant it.
She could hear the honesty in his voice, but the guilt lingered.
“I’m just glad you’re okay.” The words felt more raw than she intended, and she was sure the emotion was clear on his face.
Not sure what else to say, Lucifer raised an arm and let her settle against him. They had been in a position like this once before, the night she had stumbled drunkenly into his home and he had turned down her advances.
It felt different now though—better. More meaningful somehow.
Something changed between them as she let her head fall to his chest, the teasing and the constant need for control slipping further out of reach as she let herself be held by him.
As he let himself hold her.
As they both let the steady beat of his heart and the slow rhythm of her breathing remind them both just how lucky they were to be alive.
To be alive together.