In the hot tub with Lucifer

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee lets Lucifer into his room, which hasn't changed since the last time he was here. The window blinds are open to the evening sky, and strategically placed lamps give the place a warm glow.

"While I get the tub ready, please do help yourself to a drink if you like," he says, gesturing to the table where he keeps his liquor and glasses handy. Gin, whiskey, brandy, vodka, and red wine are his staples. There's also a half-empty box of cherry liqueur-filled chocolates.

Meanwhile, Emcee sets his sunglasses on the dresser and flits across the room into the bathroom.

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[i_am_your_host]

Emcee quickly tiptoes across the cool floor and ducks into the shower stall.

It is roomy. The tub is similarly roomy. As is the bed. It all seems disproportionate for a single, small tenant, and Emcee isn't normally prone to material extravagance.

"It's always nice for when I have company over," he deflects cheerfully as he runs his fingers through his wet hair and tries not to stare at Lucifer's scars.

[wayward_sun]

"Now that I can forethought," Lucifer says, approvingly, and starts lettering up.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee should not be having a crush on the Devil, because that is just going to mess everything up, not to mention the fact that he's fulfilling Emcee's obsession with sex with powerful supernatural beings, and this is not the right time to ask more questions about his wings.

Emcee bites the inside of his lip and continues to wash himself.

"My partners are usually much larger than I am, hence all the extra space."

[wayward_sun]

"You've got a type?"

Apparently, this passes for small talk.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee's eyes flick up to Lucifer.

"Every type is my type, darling," he says with a wry little smile. "But I suppose one could spot a sort of pattern, indicating a frequency of tall, broad-shouldered types." He shrugs, still smiling. "Still, I can't really predict who I end up showering with next."

[wayward_sun]

"Really?" Lucifer says.

And then, "Do you think they're broad?"

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee's lips twitch at that. He reaches up and sweeps both hands across Lucifer's chest as if measuring him.

"Well, yes. They're certainly broader than mine."

And they would have to be, maybe, he wants to add, to bear his wings. He wishes he knew what they looked like. But he can't ask. It would only upset him.

[wayward_sun]

Lucifer chuckles.

“You’re probably right.”

He rinses his hair and tips his head back undr the spay.

[i_am_your_host]

Perhaps a cold shower would have been better for Emcee after all.

Having finished rinsing off, Emcee leans in to kiss the center of Lucifer's chest. "Stay as long as you like, darling," he says, before slipping out of the shower.

He wraps a towel around his waist, and spreads out a few more towels on the floor to absorb drippings and minimize cold feet. A large, folded towel on the counter awaits Lucifer.

Ooh, there's still wine. Emcee needs some. He drains what's left in the glass.

[wayward_sun]

Lucifer does stay in the shower for a little while yet.

And then he finds the towel - ooh, fluffy - and starts drying off.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee has emptied the bottle of wine into the glass and sips from it as he dries his hair, like one does.

When Lucifer emerges, he looks over at him, because he would never miss the moment when wet, naked Devil comes out of a steamy shower.

Emcee plucks up the last chocolate, all melty from the heat of the room.

"Last one, darling. Shall we split it?"

[wayward_sun]

Lucifer smiles widely and saunters over, naked, damp, and apparently hungry for chocolate.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee impishly grins up at him and takes the first bite this time.

The chocolate shell is melted and soft, and the cherry liqueur gets all over his fingertips, oh no, whatever shall he do.

He holds the morsel up to Lucifer's lips.

[wayward_sun]

The Devil has soft lips and a very nimble tongue.

And just to make sure he slowly sucks Emcee's fingertip into his mouth becausecherry liquor cannot be left on skin unchecked.
Apparently.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee tries to hold Lucifer's gaze without his eyelashes fluttering and his knees turning to jelly. Needless to say, he is unsuccessful, but it's a defeat he gladly concedes to.

With a sigh, he slowly draws his fingertip from Lucifer's mouth. It lingers on his lower lip for a moment, tracing its curve, before Emcee brings it to his own mouth, flicking at it with the tip of his tongue. He coyly smiles up at him and turns to sashay out of the bathroom, the towel falling off his hips as he goes.

[wayward_sun]

"You dropped something," Lucifer calls after him as he follows along.
"Oh, and do you have anything to drink? I'm parched."

[i_am_your_host]

Without stopping, Emcee laughs, bright and musical. He continues on to the table to set up two glasses.

"The wine is gone, but I still have whiskey, brandy, vodka, and gin. What's your poison?"

[wayward_sun]

"Whiskey, please," Lucifer says as he makes himself at home in a chair.

Naked.

Grinning.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee enjoys having naked people lounge around on his furniture. It should happen more often.

He pours two fingers of whiskey into each glass and ambles over to Lucifer, handing one to him.

"To an evening of stimulating relaxation," he says cheekily, clinking their glasses together.

[wayward_sun]

"Hear, hear," Lucifer replies.

"It's funny you mentioned that thing about size. Your beds humungeous too."

[i_am_your_host]

"Well," he says thoughtfully, as he meanders over to the bed and stretches out across it on his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows and crossing his feet at the ankles, "I do like to keep my guests of all sizes happy. It just wouldn't do to have someone of your stature, for example, stay the night with your feet hanging over the bed because the mattress was too short. No, I like to make sure all conveniences and comforts are covered."

[wayward_sun]

"That is very sweet of you," Lucifer says, approvingly.
"Very sweet."

He takes a sip of his drink, looking over at Emcee.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee chuckles, glancing down into his glass. "Thank you. But what kind of host would I be if I didn't take the extra care? I have always been in the business of...serving." He looks up at Lucifer. "In every capacity."

[wayward_sun]

"Go where the talent leads you," he replies with a small grin.

"This place is a good place to be then, I take it?"

Lots of people. Lots of opportunity.

[i_am_your_host]

"Oh, yes," he says with a foxy little smile, taking a sip of his drink. "But I have never charged anyone for what I do. Here I prefer to have friends with benefits rather than 'clients.' To be honest, I-- kind of miss the trade." He chuckles. "I will most likely pick it up again once I settle in New York City."

A pause, another sip.

"There was one, though, with whom I had a-- special arrangement."