A one-shot smut fic. Established Lucifer/Sam. Also a wingfic, because of reasons.

Warnings: Graphic man sex, language. Seriously, that's ample warning. Don't read if you don't want.

Reviews are super appreciated!

Sam looked up from his research, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to refocus them from the computer screen. Lucifer was patiently reading a paperback novel on the other side of the room, eyebrow cocked in amusement. He noticed Sam's movement and looked up.

"I bet I'm more bored than you are," he said with a laugh.

Sam smiled in reply, but he was distracted. Lucifer seemed to see it on his face, and cocked his head.

"What's up, Sam?"

The hunter wasn't sure how to phrase it, so he just started with what he was thinking. "Dean said you guys have physical wings. Like, not just those ash imprints that show up when you die." He began.

Lucifer nodded, silently asking him to continue.

"So you do have them? Are they like…energy, or are they real but just invisible?" He asked.

"Both," the angel replied simply.

"But they're like your real form, right? If anyone saw them, their eyes would burn out?" He closed the computer in front of him and leaned forward curiously.

"Usually, yes. But you're my vessel, Sam. Do you think you could contain me, but not even see a piece of my true form?" He laughed like he was explaining something simple to a child. Sam didn't appreciate the condescension, but Lucifer was impossibly old. He probably stifled more laughs than he let out.

Then Sam focused on what the angel had said. "So…I can see them?" He asked.

And now it was Lucifer's turn to look confused. "If you want to," he replied slowly. The angel stood, moving to the centre of the room on sock-covered feet. That was the disarming thing about Lucifer. He was handsome, yes, but he was so very normal sometimes. He didn't have that awkwardness that Cas retained, or Michael's arrogant formality. He just stood there in a green t-shirt, jeans, and grey socks. His hair was ruffled and he had a day of stubble growing. Hell, he'd left a mug of coffee on the table near his book.

But then, as was always the case, Sam was reminded that he was so much more. Lucifer slid his t-shirt over his head in one quick motion and closed his eyes. Sam saw a shimmering, like heat waves rising off the highway. Slowly the shimmering began to take on outlines, then colour, then form and texture. Huge white wings settled into existence, curled tightly against the angel's back. They glowed softly, as if illuminated from within by a cold light. It was appropriate for an angel named the Light Bringer.

Lucifer chuckled and stepped forward. "Your mouth is hanging open. Someone might take it as an invitation," he said, leaning in to give the hunter a quick kiss.

"I just…I don't know what I expected," he said after a moment, a surprised frown on his face.

"What do you mean?" Lucifer enquired, looking a bit annoyed.

"Well…I don't know why, but I imagined black feathers, or even bat wings." He was embarrassed to have an image from cartoons in his mind.

Lucifer laughed, rolling his eyes and visibly relaxing. "I'm an archangel, Sam, not a bat."

Sam nodded, laughing awkwardly in reply. But he was stunned; this was what Lucifer looked like. Not completely of course, but his form was no longer a total lie. The wings were a symbol of holiness and power. He was having trouble doing anything but stare.

"Can I…can you feel anything in them?" He asked after a long moment of reverent observation.

"Of course." Lucifer unfurled the huge wings, stretching them to touch across most of the width of the little motel room.

Sam assumed this was an invitation, and stood. Still, he asked permission and received a nod in reply. "You were going to be a part of me, at one point. You are always free to touch any part of me," he added. The words made Sam's breath hitch.

The Winchester reached out a hand to touch one wing, and Lucifer let the other drop back down and relax. He stroked his fingers gently down the edge of the wing, and realized that though the feathers were soft and light, they were encrusted with sharp crystals of ice. As Sam dragged his hand carefully along his fingers became covered with frost which melted on his skin when he pulled away. He couldn't help shivering.

Sam's eyes flicked over to Lucifer's face, checking that he wasn't annoyed or angry in any way. Lucifer was watching him intently, and Sam decided he could continue. He spread his fingers and ran them downward through the feathers on the front of the wing. A shudder ran through it, and Sam jerked his hand away, startled.

"I'm sorry," he said, seeing the frown on the angel's face. "Did that hurt?"

Lucifer looked confused for a moment, then dropped his tension with a soft laugh. "No, no. But no human has ever…been allowed to touch my wings before. It's a new sensation." He explained.

That seemed to mean Sam could continue. He was starting to feel self-conscious with the devil watching him, so he moved around the now-curled wing to stand behind Lucifer. He seemed to understand, and lowered his head rather that turning to watch again.

Sam traced his hands down the top of the shorter man's shoulder blades to where the wings smoothed out of the human skin. Lucifer shuddered again, this time letting out a soft gasp that Sam wasn't certain he even heard. It made him want to confirm it. He buried his fingers in the feathers at the base of the wings and, taking a gamble, squeezed his hands into gentle fists.

That elicited a moan that was more than loud enough to hear.

And Suddenly Sam felt very, very warm, despite the flecks of ice pricking his skin with sensation.

"Turn around," Sam said, stepping back to give the angel room. He did as he was told, but his face wore a mischievous smirk as he obeyed. The hunter could guess why; Lucifer had joked that when Sam started being bold enough to give the devil orders, he intended to get naked very soon.

The Winchester stepped forward and pulled Lucifer close, slamming their hips together with an arm around the devil's waist. The bulges in their jeans rubbed maddeningly against the other's thighs, and Sam leaned down to kiss Lucifer while his free hand pulled roughly at the long feathers at the tip of one wing. They panted as their mouths crashed hungrily together, and soon first base just wasn't cutting it.

Sam pulled the devil backwards by the waist of his jeans, stopping when he felt the back of his legs hit the mattress.

But then the hunter paused, mind working over the logistics of what they were about to do. He knew that it was only an illusion of control, but Sam had always been the one in control. Always stayed on top. If Lucifer had wanted to make him do anything, Sam could do nothing to protest, and he knew it. Still, this was something terrifying and new.

A cold hand slipping into his jeans made the decision for him. Sam let himself drop onto the bed, pulling the devil over him. Lucifer caught himself before landing on Sam, wings unfurled with surprise. His expression quickly settled into something hungry. The wings opened and curled around them so that all he could see was the angel.

Lucifer leaned down to continue their kiss, and Sam reciprocated, pushing his hips up to rub against the devil's. He might have been pinned by an angel, but he was going to make it very apparent that he was still calling the shots. And the first thing he did was make it clear that he wanted it now.

His hands went straight to the buckle of Lucifer's belt, managing to focus long enough to undo it and the zipper below. The devil gave an appreciative laugh and pulled up until he was sitting on the hunter's hips.

"Just so impatient, Sammy," he said. He reached down and grabbed Sam's collar, yanking the larger man up by the shirt and into a sitting position with no visible effort. Lucifer was in Sam's lap now, and he moved his hand from the shirt to the back of Sam's head. He squeezed a handful of shaggy hair, causing Sam to hiss at the pain which was tinged so slightly with pleasure.

Suddenly Lucifer's hand released his head and snaked its way down his neck. The hand stopped at the top of his shirt, and began working to undo the button there. Meanwhile, his other hand seemed to be working on the fly of Sam's jeans.

Lucifer didn't fumble or rush, but he was efficient and focused. Sam knew he wasn't turned on by dominating or by displays of helplessness—he was an archangel, and all humans were pitifully weak in his eyes. It was the natural order. Instead, what got Lucifer hard was Sam's own voraciousness. It was like there was some base nature that humans had which was fascinating and alien to him. Apparently he delighted in watching Sam lose control of himself. Probably that should have worried the hunter more than it did. But maybe it was just because no one had ever tried to dominate the devil before.

Soon Sam's shirt was missing and his jeans were undone, mirroring Lucifer's current state. The angel pushed him back down on the bed with a quick thump of his hand. He spread his wings wide, shaking crystals of frost over Sam's chest and causing him to shiver as they melted and ran down his sides. Lucifer slid back and off the bed, and with a hand on Sam's jeans, he pulled pants and boxers along with him.

As the angel stood back to admire his handiwork, Sam was painfully aware of the steady waves of heated blood running to his cock and the reason for it—there was something about being seconds away from being defiled by an angel that was just so damn hot. Lucifer looked powerful. Perfect.

Then the devil got a pensive look on his face, frowning and crossing his arms. "Stand up," he demanded. Sam did as he was told and slipped off the bed. Before he knew what was happening, there was a rush of air and he was slammed against the motel wall. He let out a sound somewhere between a grunt and a laugh as Lucifer slid a hand up to the base of his neck, holding him in place. Sam heard rustling and the soft clink of a belt pin, and he knew that Lucifer was now as naked as he was.

Then Sam felt a small, blunt pressure against his ass hole. He clenched his jaw, realizing what was happening. Lucifer gave a soft laugh and leaned forward, his breath curling over Sam's cheek as he whispered in his ear. "You're going to have to relax, Sammy," he said more gently than the hunter had expected. His wings drifted forward so that all Sam could see was faded wallpaper and soft white feathers.

He felt a rush of heat in his gut, and found himself relaxing without really trying to. The pressure returned, and slowly a single, barely-warm finger slid its way inside him. He gasped at the alien feeling, shuddering slightly and opening his mouth to breathe. The finger worked itself up and down several times, sending little curls of sensation through him. Then the finger pulled away, and two took its place.

Sam heard Lucifer chuckle and the angel's lips brush his ear. The soft stroke of skin against skin turned into a bite, after which the angel began exploring behind Sam's ear with his tongue, all the while working two fingers up and down. Sam let out a moan that sounded too needy for his own liking.

"Oh I'm sorry. Did you want me to fuck you?" Lucifer asked in the most casual, flat tone imaginable.

Sam let out another moan, this one disbelieving. The devil gave a deep chuckle in response. "Use your words Sammy," he cooed.

"Yes," Sam replied, fully aware of the layers of meaning that simple word had for them.

"Yes what?" Lucifer asked, cocky smile audible in his tone.

"Fuck me," Sam gritted out with obvious impatience. The hunter's eyes darted to the angel standing behind him. Lucifer was just standing there looking at him, a finger placed on his chin as if he were deciding whether or not to fulfill Sam's request. It was such an odd pose to see on a naked man with massive, shimmering wings. He met Sam's gaze expectantly.

"Damnit Lucifer, fuck me now!" He shouted.

The devil smiled. "I guess I can do that."

And suddenly the pressure was back in full force. He was pushed back into the wall, briefly pushing air from his lungs. A larger, warmer pressure began to push steadily at his ass, and this time Sam didn't need any coaxing. He wasn't simply ready; he would have begged on his knees if Lucifer asked him to.

The angel's cock slid slowly in, and Sam gasped and groaned, with waves of pleasure even from this small gesture. It moved in and out several times, gaining depth and momentum with each thrust of the angel's hips.

"Fuck me," Sam moaned, begging for Lucifer to go harder but unable to think of new words with this new feeling overwhelming him. He'd never been fucked before, but he was pretty sure it wasn't normally this amazing.

Lucifer responded, pushing hard and quick and making it hard for Sam to breathe as he was forced against the musty wallpaper. Each stab of pleasure layered onto the next, not ebbing nearly as quickly as they arrived. Soon he couldn't think, and had to close his eyes against the flood of sensation enveloping him. Lucifer's cool breath and colder hands, his voice moving from satisfied grunts to vicious little laughs, his warm hard cock continuously filling Sam in a way he'd never imagined, and the soft brush of feathers and frost against his hands conspired to drive him absolutely insane.

His body didn't seem to know how to process what was happening to him, and it mixed together into sharp accents of pleasure, all clearly labeled 'Lucifer' in his mind, and he felt he was literally tipping over the edge of a cliff as an orgasm hit him in a rush of wind and adrenaline. Cum shot from both of them, Lucifer filling his intended vessel with warmth and Sam letting a stream leak down the motel wall.

If the devil weren't still pinning him to the wall, Sam was certain he would have collapsed to the carpeted floor. As it was, he shivered as waves of heat and cold and the last tremors of his orgasm rolled through his body, causing him to shudder and his breath to catch.

When it seemed that he could stand by himself again, Lucifer stepped back and folded his wings to rest behind him. He regarded Sam with a rare look of total contentment, with an appreciative flick of his gaze to the cum-splattered wall.

"We may need to do that again," he told the hunter with a grin.

Oh man oh man oh man. I did it. I wrote gay porn about the devil. I'm totally going to Hell.

Though when I get there, maybe he'll be flattered?

Please review, and maybe check out my multi-chapter fic, Not Going Away, if you haven't already?

Hope you enjoyed, and thanks so much for reading!