
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1168223.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Lucifer/Michael_(Supernatural)
  Character:
      Lucifer_(Supernatural), Michael_(Supernatural)
  Additional Tags:
      Michifer_-_Freeform, Top_Lucifer, Bottom_Michael, Catholic_School,
      Lucifer_has_been_a_tease, and_Michael_just_wants_to_get_laid, Rimming,
      Fingering, lube_is_your_friend, be_a_boy_scout, Blasphemy, like_so_much
      blasphemy, I'm_probably_going_to_hell_for_this, Begging, Plot_What_Plot/
      Porn_Without_Plot, Fluff_and_Smut
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-02-04 Words: 1879
****** Sin No More, Sweet Angel ******
by thepizzasitter
Summary
     "There were days that Michael could stop his impending hurricane of a
     brother before he became too caught up in his wind, wreckage, and
     merciless conquest…and other days he refused to really even try." A
     completely blasphemous Michifer Catholic Schoolboy AU.
Notes
     Prompt fill for kawaiiest-angel-in-the-garrison on Tumblr. I
     seriously cannot say 'no' to her and it's a problem. A positive
     problem, I suppose.
"We’ll—ah!” Get caught. It was right there, on the tip of his tongue, but there
were days that Michael could stop his impending hurricane of a brother before
he became too caught up in his wind, wreckage, and merciless conquest…
And other days he refused to really even try.
“We won’t,” Lucifer hummed against the straining tendon at Michael’s neck,
kissing and licking and nipping just hard enough to have the elder Novak
writhing in his seat—hard wooden back of the pew contrasting deliciously with
the soft skitter of his brother’s hands under his shirt. Sometimes he wondered
if Lucifer couldn’t read minds. “Promise.”
He could trust Luce at his word for this. They had yet to be discovered and his
brother had a stake in this that was just as high as his own. Michael would be
shamed, but he knew Lucifer would take the fall if they were ever found out.
That was the only reason—or so he told himself—that he even humored Lucifer
when the younger had insisted on doing this in the chapel. It was blasphemy and
heresy of the highest order and Michael found he just couldn’t quite care
enough when Lucifer’s hand pushed past the resistance of his belt and gripped
his length tightly, pumping him in the confines of his jeans like the tease he
could be.
“Luc—oh faster! Either finish what you started or get out, but I can’t—” his
words were growled and wrecked halfway through, moaning with a need that had
been drawn out all day. Lucifer had been making lewd gestures all through
class, but Michael was made of sterner stuff than that. Then he’d found himself
ambushed in the bathroom afterwards and Lucifer had bitten at his neck, chest,
and thighs. He’d sucked and tongued at his nipples until they were red and
peaked, and he’d let Michael tug at his hair before he’d—
Disappeared with a traitorous wink and a “Hurry up, Micha, gotta get to class!”
that had Michael want to chase him and beat him over the head with a chair.
He’d whimpered at the state of his neck, and had made Gabriel give him his
scarf. It was a horrid thing that looked like Crayola had thrown up on it.
Gabriel used the wretched fashion crime when he wanted to be particularly
contrary, but at least it covered the bruises already blossoming and settling
along his collar bones to ink his skin.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. The choir had gone on a walk in the forest to
‘gain inspiration’ for the evening mass, and Lucifer had decided that Michael
was as good a source as any. Michael had found himself systematically separated
from the group—how Lucifer had done that…well, he was certain witchcraft was
involved, but he wasn’t going to look too closely—and shoved against a tree.
Lucifer had proceeded to get him riled up anew and he was three slippery
fingers deep (“Look, we’re like boy scouts, Michael!” He’d actually snickered,
the bastard) before Lucifer had dropped to his knees and thrust his tongue into
him with a wet sound and a moan of satisfaction. Michael had to bite his arm to
keep his own sounds from carrying across the area, but for every obscene cry he
stifled, there was a punishing flick of Lucifer’s tongue, pushed deep into him
and making him spread wide against the rough bark of the tree.
His cock jerked, full and ready to spill when Lucifer added a finger to stroke
the place that made him burn and see whited out stardust with every press.
And then Lucifer. Had. Stopped. Again.
“Where are you, lads?”
Michael wanted to howl and cry and drag Lucifer back down just to make him
finish it, but it was too late. Lucifer sprung back and hurriedly put their
clothes back together and when they were finally found, Michael had mud in his
perfectly brushed hair, a fool-proof-fell-in-the-creek excuse and murder in his
heart.
And now, now they had fifteen minutes before chapel began and if Lucifer held
off any longer…
“Hmm, I think I want you to suck me off today,” Lucifer hummed against his
belly, tongue darting into his navel and trailing along his lower abdomen. So
close, so close to where he needed that wicked mouth to go.
“No!” Michael shook his head and tried not to whine when Lucifer slackened his
grip on his cock. “You’ve had your fun. There’s only—”
“Fifteen minutes. Suck me off now and I’ll make you come so hard you’ll forgive
me for all the time we missed earlier today. Deal?” Lucifer said, tone rough
and unyielding. It was his warrior’s face that he wore, a smirk and a cocked
brow, just daring Michael to back down now.
There was only one answer when Lucifer got like this. Only one that would
satisfy them both in the end, and Michael was willing to pay whatever price it
took to be relieved of the ache that had been following him all day—heady and
cloying and necessary after Lucier had spread his own legs in their next class
with a come hither look and a slight crook of his fingers.
“Yes.”
Lucifer splayed himself out on the bench, their positions flipped, and he slid
his tongue along his lip when Michael practically tore open the front of his
pants and hesitated only a moment before he sunk his mouth down onto the slick
length he held. Lucifer gave a cry that rang along the interior of the chapel,
batting Michael’s silencing hand away.
“Let God hear,” Lucifer breathed, and Michael brashly ignored the blasphemy in
order to take Lucifer deeper. Apparently he didn’t go quite fast enough,
because he suddenly found his hair gripped and he coughed and nearly pulled off
when Lucifer bucked into his mouth.
A feral, guttural growl was torn from his brother’s lips and his eyes watered
and stung when Lucifer didn’t let up, forcing Michael to relax entirely and
remain compliant as his throat was mercilessly fucked and used for Lucifer’s
pleasure. He could feel blurts of precome moving down his throat, taking every
inch with smothered moans of displeasure at the brutal treatment, but they went
unheeded.
In revenge, he fluttered the muscles of his throat, using the spasms to make
Lucifer writhe on the seat, arching back and uncaring if they were heard. When
Lucifer finally hissed out his name and shuddered through his orgasm, pressing
deep, he could taste nothing he was choked so far back.
“Lucifer,” he croaked when he was released to fall back, voice raw and fucked
out. “What the he—”
“Language, brother mine,” Lucifer giggled languidly, mockingly. His eyes were
hazy and his smile was blissful but they sharpened on Michael. Deadly lust swam
there, and it was clear Lucifer had no intention of basking in the post-coital
glow for long. Before he could rage at his brother he found himself whirled
against the back of a pew, one of Lucifer’s legs kicking his apart to spread
him wide. Strong hands gripped his hips and bent him forward. His breath rushed
out and he barely heard the gentle, “Had to go fast, Michael. Couldn’t just
leave you needy again, could I?”
His low moan hurt in every pleasurable way as it escaped his raw throat, only
to be swallowed when his head was dragged back for a quick kiss, tender and
dirty all at once before those sinful lips skimmed along his neck and hands
tugged at buttons to slip them apart one by one. His shirt hung open and a cool
hand burned its path along the contours of his stomach. He quivered and shook
under his brother’s attention, hips jutting forward into nothing but air while
he breathed out a plea he didn’t think would be answered.
“Please, Lucifer. No more teasing today.” It was a pathetic hope—his brother
loved the anticipation, it could be argued, more than sex itself—but his eyes
opened wide and a keen broke free when his jeans and briefs were tugged down
around his thighs and a tongue found its way back into him. “Oh God!”
Lucifer lapped along the puffy pink hole, abused from his earlier
ministrations, and he smiled. It took more than a lot to get Michael to taking
his precious Lord’s name in vain, but it was always worth it. His tongue darted
in and out, small flickers of pleasure snapping like lighting along Michael’s
spine. “More, Lucifer, please!” He begged, uncaring of his pride for just long
enough to get what he needed. “Please, please, let me come—oh fuck!” Lucifer
thrust his tongue in, making Michael wet and opening him up so prettily. Open
enough to take a few fingers, though he didn’t have enough leftover from the
small packet to take him like he wanted to.
He pulled away from the swell of Michael’s ass and nipped at the cheek. “Later,
Michael, when everything is quiet and still, I’m going to climb up the vines on
the side of the wall to your window, and I will take what’s mine. Really,
though, you had better not give me grief for my language after this.
Hypocrite.”
Michael whimpered brokenly, pushing back against the fingers that stroked his
prostate with deft accuracy, helpless to make Lucifer move faster, to please
please end this let me come for the love of all that’s holy just fuck into me
and make me come—
“And I’m sure you’ll enjoy every second of it, but for now, I’ll leave you with
a token of what’s to come. Namely you.”
A high whine left his gritted teeth when Lucifer came back with a vengeance,
licking and sucking at his needy hole, using his fingers to split him as wide
as they could without hurting him, preparing him for later when he knew Lucifer
would make good on his threat. A slick hand encircled his neglected cock and
stroked in time with the wet sounds of his tongue driving deep into Michael’s
body.
Those fingers formed a tight channel to thrust into, forcing Michael forward
into it only to impale himself back on fingers and tongue alike until it
finally splintered him, cracked him along the seams and he came with a scream
of Lucifer’s name and his sin spurting over Lucifer’s hand and onto his
clothes. Messy, debauched, sated and good, so good.
He fell back to earth slowly, the last of their minutes ticking by while he
gasped for air and reveled in the sweet press of Lucifer’s lips to his cheek.
It was nearly chaste until he stole Michael’s lips in a slow burning kiss,
promising wicked delights under the cover of nightfall and enough love to fill
his heart to bursting.
It could have very easily sent him careening into spirals of want again, so
Michael ran his fingers through the sweaty line of his brother’s hair and
simply sighed, “Later, you insatiable thing.”
Lucifer grinned, devilish and content, his own arousal ignored for now in favor
of whispering softly to his brother as they cleaned themselves up as best they
could for mass.
“It’s a date, then.”
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