[The Bible ; Jeshua/Lucifer ; Emotions ; Fic]

I humbly offer this set of 20 x 100 word drabbles for LJ's "20paperplanes" community - a short vacation from my "Via Lata" series, sort of. :) I needed the change of POV for a bit and also to flex my fingers... The title is filched from William Blake, of course. WARNING - These pieces contain mature content & references to m/m sex, mental illness, drugs, crossdressing/shapeshifting, character death and the end of days. Reader discretion is advised. Please don't read any further if you feel any of this might disturb, hurt, or offend you.

Fandom: The Bible

Pairing: Jeshua/Lucifer

20paperplanes Prompt Table: Emotions

Rating: PG

Drabble: #01: Love

.:.

It's not love, no.

Far from it.

It's something sober and calculated, this.... what shall we call it, tryst? Or travesty?

To one, it is an elaborate joke, something too good pass up.

To the other, it is a quest, a scientific enquiry almost. And if something else grows out of it, he cannot help it. He'll shelter and nurture it, try to make it bear fruit, because that's what he does. That's who he is.

Lucifer laughs at him, of course. Surprise me, he says.

Impossible, Jeshua replies. But perhaps you'll surprise yourself. Isn't that what love is about?

.:.

Drabble: #02: Lust

Rating: R

.:.

It's not lust, no.

It's something vile and dirty that makes them circle each other. An intimation of groans and moans; the visual suggestion of slick limbs in a snakepit, going from languid slide to brutal push, racing each other for that last fevered shudder.

Jeshua stares at a vein in Lucifer's neck, pulsing in invitation. He closes his eyes and sees a forked tongue instead, caressing his balls, twining up his penis, slipping into the slit.

Stop, he gasps, raw with need now, don't.

On the other side of the table, Lucifer only blinks and sits, licking his lips.

.:.

Drabble: #03: Passion

Rating: R

.:.

He's no stranger to passion, no. But it takes a while before he discovers what works best with Lucifer.

Lucifer, he wants some token resistance. He likes Jeshua to struggle. He delights in the bruises, telling himself they go deep enough to leave a mark.

But Jeshua, daring him to go further, relaxes into it like you would lower yourself into a hot tub: he's learnt that there is pleasure in yielding. Freedom, even.

In the morning he'll get up and make coffee and look at last night's magnificent beast, the angel that was - pure again for one fleeting second.

.:.

Drabble: #04: Rage

Rating: R

.:.

Jeshua's fingers will leave imprints: red ugly smudges on Lucifer's neck. Attempting to get a knee between them, Lucifer screeches and squirms, hissing in dead languages until he runs out of breath.

Do it. Do it do it do it. Get it over with, the voice in Jeshua's head sneers. Proud at first, it turns into a whine, then a sob until skull cracks on stone. Lucifer's hands fall open.

Samael, Jeshua begs, look at me, but Lucifer's eyes have already lost focus, and Jeshua turns aside and weeps, curling in on himself as if his shoulders wanted to meet.

.:.

Drabble: #05: Depression (follows 'Rage')

Rating: R

.:.

Outside Jeshua's cave, the rain crackles like fire.

He's burnt the body: burnt him and scattered the ashes, so soot and grease still cling to him, caking his nails. Lucifer's last embrace, rubbing itself under his skin.

Paralysed, stuck to the cave mouth now, Jeshua is too weak to move. The tallit around his shoulders is dirty. The threads are unraveling before his very eyes: you are become Death, they say.

Weeks later there's the soft pad of feet, and Lucifer, kneeling by his side, trying to stroke it out of him. Wanton, Lucifer sniffs reprovingly. Stop it this instant.

.:.