my_own_advocate | The Cape Rouge, Saturday Afternoon

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The Cape Rouge, Saturday Afternoon

It had been a glorious week free of drama (bar what Eric predictably brought to the table), and they were capping it off with an even more glorious weekend of nudity, scarves, a light pirate 'abduction', and, well. .

A nap here and there, at least if you were Lucifer; he hadn't exactly been keeping track of where anyone else had been while he was out. Had to keep his strength up.

Which was why he was in the kitchen late into the afternoon, still naked. "First batch of grilled cheese is almost ready!" he called, flipping one sandwich with a practiced motion. Hey, if you were impervious to boiling butter, you made the most of it, no?

[[ for those on the boat. ]]

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Somehow that just made him more beautiful.

Octavia's thumbs brushed gently against his cheeks as she just -- looked in his eyes.

She was incredible.

Lucifer was also certain she could see just about anything on his face.

(Mostly, how incredible he thought she was.)

Octavia definitely saw something in his face. She exhaled a breath, and looked at him like the feeling was mutual.

Because it was.

One of her hands trailed down to his jaw again.

Lucifer let out a jagged breath of his own.

His hands slid under the robe and settled on her knees.

Octavia glanced down at his hands as they moved, as they disappeared under his clothes on her, but didn't say anything about it.

"You're amazing," she told him quietly as her gaze returned to his face. Her fingertips tilted his chin up by a fraction more, and they were gentle about it. "And it's like you're just... starting to bloom."

"Am I, now?" Lucifer said, a hint of amusement, more than that of actual curiosity.

Duke was going to walk in on this and have no idea what was going on.

"Don't talk," Octavia replied, with a little tilt of her head, her voice soft with just a stern undertone. "But yes, you are."

Lucifer said nothing. Did nothing.

She'd been clear.

Good Devil.

Octavia's fingertips rubbed at his jaw. Her other hand carded its way through his hair. Soothing, slow motions.

"It's kind of like you see some of the parts of you now," she murmured, "that we always did. You're not incapable of anything. And you are worthy."

A breath.

"You always were."

Oh. Oh.

Lucifer made a soft noise. Something wet. He tilted his head, leaning into her touch.

It was comforting.

Octavia's touch grew firmer, at that. She knew that impulse well, knew the comfort, and wanted to give it to him.

"It's... amazing," she said. Her own eyes seemed to have a little more of a sheen to them now. "It feels like you're -- finally here. All of you. I never minded when you weren't. That you didn't believe us, because that didn't make it any less true, but..."

But.

A shuddery exhale, and she shook her head. "You get brighter by the day."

...the light bringer, so full of light, it blinds even you sometimes...

Lucifer glanced down at the floor. His fingers slid up along her hips, and they settled there, anchored.

The hand that had been at his jaw brushed over his cheek again. She splayed her fingers there.

"Our lives are better because you're in them. Every day."

Duke had been giving them some space, taking some time in the sauna, enjoying his muscles unknotting. He wandered into the bedroom now, combing his hair out with his fingers, and stopped in the doorway to take in the tableau.

"It's true," he said, having caught the tail end of her statement. "Every day."

Lucifer supposed he should be surprised. Startled. Perhaps he should recoil and hide all this... vulnerability Octavia had tricked out of him.

He looked past her, at Duke's face, knowing that small, red-eyed, open feeling was still written all over his face.

After a moment, he slid his arms around Octavia's waist, fingers making an awkward 'it's fine, come in' motion behind her back, and buried his face against her stomach.

That was the first moment Octavia felt sorry about wearing the robe: it should have been skin to skin. But obviously she wasn't going to shoo Lucifer away to take it off now.

Both of her hands slid through his hair as she glanced at Duke.

"I've been telling him how beautiful he is," she said, softly. "And how worthy."

"Good," Duke said. He pushed away from the door frame to come crouch beside Lucifer, uncasted hand coming to rest on the back of his neck. "I don't think he gets to hear that enough."

Lucifer wanted rather badly to make a wisecrack, to ward off feeling so exposed. But Octavia had told him not to speak, and that seemed important right now.

The exposure was inescapable.

He turned his head until his cheek pressed snugly into the fabric of Octavia's robe. And... stretched out one arm, to draw Duke in.

Perhaps he could let them fill up a few gaps in him, here and there. Perhaps that would be all right.

Octavia left one hand cradling the back of Lucifer's head. The other pulled back for the moment, waiting for Duke to move further in.

"Agreed," she murmured, to Duke. "And especially after this past week, he deserves to."

Duke could see how major this was for Lucifer. How hard he was working not to pull away, emotionally.

He let him gather him in, and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his temple.

“We are so. Proud of you.”

Lucifer buried his face in Duke's neck and hugged them both closer.

He cried on Duke, especially, entirely too much lately. But at least this time, it wasn't out of pain.

Octavia settled her other hand at the back of Duke's neck.

"We are," she agreed. "And there's no one else like you for us."

Duke didn't say it was okay. Or anything else, just now. He just hung onto Lucifer and leaned his head against Octavia's leg, and waited for Lucifer to calm.

It took time, and a few harsh, loud breaths. They'd said some of this to him before, Lucifer knew that. It had become less easy to deflect of late, and yet that was still his first instinct.

But he didn't want to ward himself off. He just wanted to be with them.

"I love you so much," he whispered, voice rough. He wasn't even sure whose limb he turned and pressed his face into - bar that it wasn't a hard cast under his skin. It didn't matter.

The sound of his voice squeezed at Octavia's heart. But in a good way.

A really, really good way.

"We know," she replied, her voice a little strangled in its own right.

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