A laugh. Who's spread the lies that I'd have any doubts like that? Certainly not me. But the level of confidence is impressive. They bring out the worst in each other sometimes; just about anyone can bring the worst out of Lucifer.
They do, however, also bring out the best in each other. That Lucifer has a best is... interesting. Something new. Or rather, something that has been buried for a very, very, near-infinite time.
And Istredd, of course, coming in strong and blipping Lucifer's thoughts. Blanked for a few seconds as he blinks up at him.
"You would definitely die," he says slowly, knowing he needs to say something before Istredd loses this flare of confidence, but Lucifer honestly wasn't expecting the comment. "Or at least have your eyes burned out of your skull, and that'd be a cryin' shame." Even Lucifer can recognize that Istredd's eyes are the best physical aspect about him. He'd hate to lose them.
It takes a moment for him to kickstart his mind again. Actual effort. There's multiple free-flowing thoughts there that hadn't been before, one particular new strand he hadn't even been realized as missing, the rest unrecognized or so much as noticed by Lucifer. Gossamer, silver threads of thought stretched across in motion as though through water. The way that Lucifer's mind is more often imagery and color as much as emotion.
He knows Istredd was attracted to his mind; he said as much, said it was what he... fell in love with first. But this, this vessel, it's as similar to a hand-me-down.
Lucifer didn't choose this the last time. Nick didn't choose this the last time. They both were forced into this arrangement and while Nick is gone, no soul to make the space seem smaller, it still feels like this body doesn't fit right sometimes. Like an itch he can't reach, a piece of clothing out of place, a loose hair you can't catch. What Crowley did to this vessel permanently changed him.
And sure, he's aware there's an attractiveness to this suit and the way he wears it but--but Istredd does know that form, didn't flinch from it, doesn't have any nightmares haunting him from it. He knew Istredd accepted it but--
But wanting it was another story.
"Get--" He's got Istredd's tie around his neck that means he loses the easy handhold, so he settles for wrinkling the smooth shirt, twisting his hand into the black and bodily dragging Istredd back down to him. Get down here.
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They do, however, also bring out the best in each other. That Lucifer has a best is... interesting. Something new. Or rather, something that has been buried for a very, very, near-infinite time.
And Istredd, of course, coming in strong and blipping Lucifer's thoughts. Blanked for a few seconds as he blinks up at him.
"You would definitely die," he says slowly, knowing he needs to say something before Istredd loses this flare of confidence, but Lucifer honestly wasn't expecting the comment. "Or at least have your eyes burned out of your skull, and that'd be a cryin' shame." Even Lucifer can recognize that Istredd's eyes are the best physical aspect about him. He'd hate to lose them.
It takes a moment for him to kickstart his mind again. Actual effort. There's multiple free-flowing thoughts there that hadn't been before, one particular new strand he hadn't even been realized as missing, the rest unrecognized or so much as noticed by Lucifer. Gossamer, silver threads of thought stretched across in motion as though through water. The way that Lucifer's mind is more often imagery and color as much as emotion.
He knows Istredd was attracted to his mind; he said as much, said it was what he... fell in love with first. But this, this vessel, it's as similar to a hand-me-down.
Lucifer didn't choose this the last time. Nick didn't choose this the last time. They both were forced into this arrangement and while Nick is gone, no soul to make the space seem smaller, it still feels like this body doesn't fit right sometimes. Like an itch he can't reach, a piece of clothing out of place, a loose hair you can't catch. What Crowley did to this vessel permanently changed him.
And sure, he's aware there's an attractiveness to this suit and the way he wears it but--but Istredd does know that form, didn't flinch from it, doesn't have any nightmares haunting him from it. He knew Istredd accepted it but--
But wanting it was another story.
"Get--" He's got Istredd's tie around his neck that means he loses the easy handhold, so he settles for wrinkling the smooth shirt, twisting his hand into the black and bodily dragging Istredd back down to him. Get down here.