"Good," he answers, startled that he means it. In other circumstances, other potential multiversal of people, he'd deny it. But because Istredd is so rarely this level of vocal, Lucifer only offers encouragement. "I know I've inspired other things, too," he croons, up until his breath hitches with a startled, annoyed, amused confusion.

So increasing levels of It's Complicated that he's just going to roll with, but also owed an explanation because the last thing he needs is Istredd being concerned without Lucifer actually slamming on the breaks.

Point of order: last person I slept with was with a different vessel entirely. Same number of limbs. Way different... everything else. Again, that's not a denial, Istredd. It's like a lottery.

Istredd might not know lotteries.

Lucifer does not infodump about lotteries while shifting his hips to meet Istredd. You're welcome.

Conversation in motion. Lucifer does know how to dance.

"I want you," he responds aloud, so that it resonates through his vocal chords and matches in sync through the thoughts in their skulls.