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Season Seven of Sunrise

Chapter Text

Rafa and Castiel were helping Lucifer get ready. They were in Rafa's room at the bed-and-breakfast where most of their friends and family were staying for the wedding. Castiel was Lucifer's best man, and Rafa was his maid of honor (which worked out well, as he was apparently allowed one of each). Castiel had professed to not understand why Sam and he would choose to engage in an archaic, misogynistic ritual like a wedding. Lucifer wasn't even 100% sure what those words meant, and they'd come from a 14-year-old. But he and Sam had sat Castiel down and explained how, not long ago even, the two of them would not be able to be married in the eyes of the law because they were both men. That meant, as Lucifer's soon-to-be-husband explained, no hospital visitation rights, no right of inheritance, no nothing. Castiel had allowed as to why they might want to take advantage of this fairly new ability, given that information.

Lucifer was wearing a classic black tux with an ice-blue cummerbund and a matching handkerchief in the pocket. Rafa was working on his hair, having already tamed Castiel's earlier--with the aid of a great deal of hair gel; messy hair seemed to run in the family. Rafa was wearing a floor-length ice-blue dress the same color as Lucifer's cummerbund and had her hair braided; Castiel was in his own tux, which Lucifer swore he'd already grown out of, despite the fact that they'd bought it only a few months ago. The teenager was currently fascinated by his cufflinks, which were little silver dragonflies that Sam had given him. Castiel also kept checking his pocket where the ring was; as the best man, he'd been put in charge of it as Lucifer had no younger male relatives.

"There," declared Rafa finally, setting down the brush she was using. "Take a look."

Lucifer turned to the mirror, only to find all of his hair lying flat for once. Between that and the tux, he looked odd, and briefly wondered if Sam would even recognize him. He had to admit, though, the look was stylish. "Thanks, big sis," he said, standing to give Rafa a hug.

"You are welcome," she said, hugging him for a little longer than necessary. "You look so handsome. Now, let us see, we have something blue covered..."

Castiel rolled his eyes. "That's a meaningless superstition," he informed them, putting his hand in his pocket to check that the ring was still there. "He doesn't actually need any of that."

"It is a tradition, and he is going to follow it," Raphael corrected. "You have your new cufflinks..." Lucifer held up his arms to show her the ones she'd bought as a wedding present for him, which had an S intertwined with an L. "Good. You borrowed one of Sam's bow ties," she added, fondness in her tone even though she shook her head.

"And I found the silk handkerchief in a vintage store," Lucifer assured her, glancing at himself in the mirror again as he patted the cloth. "Circa 1920's. Old and blue."

"Perfect," Rafa said, stepping away and looking him up and down. "How are you feeling?"

Lucifer paused, thinking before he answered the question. "Good," he replied. "Really good. I can't believe I'm here, but there's nowhere else I want to be." He'd heard of pre-wedding jitters, and he supposed he understood why people got them, but in his case, they were entirely absent. He'd known for a long time that Sam was the only person he would ever be interested in for the rest of his life.

Rafa beamed up at her taller brother (she hadn't put on her heels yet; when she did, she'd only be an inch or two shorter than him). "I am so very happy for you, Luci. You have found your soulmate, and now you can be with them forever, just like in a fairy tale."

Castiel shifted from foot to foot, indicating that he had something to say that had to do with feelings, which he still had trouble expressing. Lucifer took a step toward him, and rested a hand on his shoulder, waiting patiently for Castiel to speak. Rafa mirrored him on the other side. "Fairy tales aren't real," the boy finally said. "But I used to think...I used to think that love wasn't real either. The mushy stuff, mostly, but also just platonic." He looked up at the two of them, intense blue eyes wide. "But you and Sam really love each other, the way people are supposed to. You sometimes get mad at each other, but he never hurts you and you never hurt him." He lowered his gaze, and began mumbling. "You both deserve it, but I know you love me too, and...and I want to be a good enough person to deserve that too."

Lucifer instantly enveloped Castiel in a hug. "You do deserve it, little bro. Everyone does."

"Indeed," Rafa agreed, wrapping her arms around the two of them. "You deserve to be loved for who you are, not who our parents wanted you to be. Even if I am fairly certain that you are making me smear my mascara right now."

That got a chuckle out of Castiel, and Lucifer surreptitiously wiped at his own eyes before looking at the clock. "We should probably leave soon," he noted. "It's a fifteen minute drive up the coast."

"All right," Rafa said, checking her makeup in the mirror and then slipping on blue heels. "Let us go walk you down the proverbial aisle, brother." The three left the room and headed for Lucifer's car.

Chapter Text

"Shit. Sammy, wake up!" Sam groaned. His eyes felt like they were glued together, and the taste on his tongue did not bode well for anything. Where was he? Even better question: who was he? "Sammy!"

Something soft collided with his face, and he let out a grunt of surprise and then opened his eyes, only to find a pillow in his face. He managed to push it off just in time for someone to open the curtains and allow sunlight to stab his eyes to death. "Nnnnngh," he vocalized.

"C'mon, get up, Sammy!" Was that...Dean? What was Dean doing here? "We overslept. C'mon, you need to shower and get dressed. Hurry!"

This time, the loud shouty presence in his room grabbed him by an arm and hauled him up into a sitting position. Bits and pieces of his life were starting to come back to him. He couldn't fathom why Dean was here, but he was pretty sure that he was a lawyer named Sam who had apparently had way too much to drink last night, which was odd, because he was careful not to get drunk around Castiel and...Lucifer. Where was Lucifer? Where was his fiancé? His eyes finally adjusted to the light, and he saw the closet of the bed and breakfast, open in front of his bed. Two tuxes were hanging in it; the snow-white one caught his attention. Oh. Oh shit. The wedding. "What time is it?" he croaked.

"9:05," Dean replied, moving back to his bed. "Plenty of time." He didn't sound completely sincere--they were supposed to leave by 9:30, and were supposed to have been up around 8 so they could eat breakfast and have plenty of time to get ready.

Sam catapulted himself out of bed and into the bathroom. "Damnit, Dean!" he swore in passing. Dean had insisted on him having a bachelor party, which of course Dean had also been in charge of. It was all a bit of a blur to Sam--there had definitely been strippers, both male and female, and copious amounts of alcohol--but he could worry about remembering the details later. For now, he had a wedding to get ready for. He brushed his teeth, showered, shaved, and so on in record time. He heard knocking on the door of the room in the bed and breakfast, but apparently Dean took care of it, because no one bothered him in the bathroom.

When he opened the door to collect his clothes, Dean handed them to him with a contrite look on his face. Dean's eyes were as bloodshot as Sam's felt. "Everyone's up," he reported, referring to the other members of the bachelor party, "and getting dressed. Mom's already ready and wants to know when she can come in."

"Give me a minute," Sam mumbled, grabbing his tux and retreating to the bathroom again. He got it on in record time, only coming out for help with his cuffs. His bow tie was black, but his cummerbund was ice blue; it matched Lucifer's. Dean helped him fasten his cufflinks and then disappeared into the bathroom with his own tuxedo.

Sam was looking at himself in the mirror when someone knocked at the door. He opened it, and found his mother on the other side. "Mom," he greeted warmly.

"Sam!" The mother of the groom immediately put her arms around her son. "You look so handsome!"

"Thanks, Mom," Sam said, leaning down to return the hug and then stepping back so she could come in the room. "You look beautiful." She was in a dark blue dress that set off her blonde hair (how much of it was still natural was a secret known only to Mary and her hairdresser). Some of her hair had been braided into a crown, with the rest left loose around her shoulders. Blue carnations and tiny white flowers decorated the hairdo and were intertwined in her corsage, and her nails were painted the same color as her dress. Her makeup was designed to make it look as if she weren't wearing any, and Sam thought she looked radiant.

"Thank you," Mary replied as she walked in. "Hmm, your eyes are all red. Sit down, I've got some eyedrops. I thought Dean might overdo the bachelor party."

Sam chuckled, but sat down on the edge of the bed as Mary fished the eyedropper out of her purse. He leaned his head back, and she carefully squeezed a few drops into each eye. "There," she said, "That should help. Do you need any asprin?"

"Yes, please, Mom." Sam grabbed a nearby glass of water, and took the two pills Mary produced. She proceeded to fuss with his hair, which he submitted to like the dutiful son that he was.

"How are you?" Mary asked as she tried to get his hair to sit just so.

"I'm..." Sam wasn't immediately sure. How was he? The adrenaline of being woken up with barely any time to spare was starting to wear off. "I'm good. I've got a headache, but my stomach is good. And...for the rest..." he added, since he knew she wasn't just talking about his hangover, "I'm also good. We're practically married already, honestly; this just formalizes it. It's more about our friends and family than about us."

"Good answer," Mary said, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "That's how I felt about your father. It was like we had always been together." Dean exited the bathroom (thankfully fully clad in his own tux). The best men and the other groomsmen were not wearing cummerbunds or bow ties; instead, they wore full-length light blue ties under vests. "Looking good, Dean," Mary said, grinning at her other son and turning to him so she could adjust his tie.

There was another knock at the door, and Sam got up to answer it, so he missed Dean's response. His father was at the door this time. He looked at Sam for a few moments, and then pulled him into one of those man-hugs where they hit each other on the back with enough force to dislodge anything in each other's windpipe. "Congratulations, son," he said gruffly. "Ready to go?"

"Almost, I think," Sam replied. "Just have to get my shoes on. Dean, you ready?" he asked as he walked back into the room, John following him.

"Almost," came the answer. John walked over to take Mary's hand in his as the boys put socks, shoes, and other last-minute accouterments on. In the end, they did leave a little late, but with John's driving, they managed to make it to the wedding site on time.

Chapter Text

Sam and Lucifer hadn't picked a church for their wedding. Instead, their wedding site was a spot along one of the many cliffs overlooking the sea near San Francisco. A wedding company had put out folding chairs in neat rows, with an aisle left in between them. At the end of the aisle was a white arch, decorated with blue and purple flowers and ribbons. The company had put up two tents, one for each groom, to give the wedding parties some privacy while their guests arrived.

While the officiant, Charlie, an IT expert from Sam's new law firm, was speaking quietly with Lucifer, Castiel peered out of the flap, watching everyone arrive and take their seats with the help of Ben, who was ushering. The setup was next to a state park, so there was plenty of parking, and no one had to walk very far. "There's so many people," he told Rafa, who was behind him, watching him with a fond smile. In reality, there were fewer than fifty guests, but it seemed like more to the teenager.

"Sam and Luci have many friends," his older sister told him, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Some of Sam's friends came all the way from South Dakota. And Kansas, of course. Has Madison arrived?" Rafa was referring to her girlfriend of several months now.

"Yes, she sat in the back," Castiel reported. "Near Benny. He closed the restaurant today for this." He slipped his hand into his pocket, heart beating too quickly for a moment before he found the solid weight of the ring.

Rafa sighed when she realized what he was doing. "Castiel. The ring is not going to fall out of your pocket."

"I know." He turned around, looking anxious. "But I'm scared. I have to stand up there in front of everyone. What if I do something and it ruins the wedding?"

Lucifer overheard his little brother, and walked over as Charlie left their tent and headed toward Sam's. "Castiel, listen to me," he said, going down on a knee so he could look the teenager in the eye. "There is nothing--nothing--you could possibly do to ruin today. Today is about love and family. All you have to do is be yourself, and you'll be fine. Lose the ring, toss it into the ocean, swallow it, whatever--Sam and I are still going to get married, this day is going to be just as special, and we're still going to love you."

Rafa smiled her approval at Lucifer as Castiel laughed weakly and hugged his older brother. "It is almost time, are you two ready?" she asked, picking up her large blue-and-purple bouquet and then lending a hand to help Lucifer back to his feet.

"Definitely," Lucifer replied, peeking out of the tent himself. Charlie, who was wearing a black suit, walked down the aisle first, clutching a few index cards, as everyone settled into their seats and quieted. She turned around, smiling, and then gestured to a brunette woman sitting in the front, a singer Lucifer had found through his art world connections. The singer stood and began to sing a song from one of Enya's albums that Sam and Lucifer both liked.

A little dark-haired girl--Sarah, Dean's daughter--marched out of Sam's tent and up the aisle with a basket, tossing flower petals in front of her. She was smiling and had her uncle's dimples, and most of the guests melted when they saw her. Once she'd made it to the front, she set the basket down and then ran over to her mother, Lisa, to sit next to her and her brother Ben.

Lucifer nudged Castiel. They'd flipped a coin, and Lucifer's party was going first. That meant his best man would start their procession. Castiel paled, but stepped out as close to the beat of the music as he could. He paid too much attention to trying to find the rhythm, and between that and being a gawky teenager, it was not the most graceful of processions. Still, Lucifer and Rafa followed a few steps behind Castiel--Rafa had insisted on being the one to walk her little brother down the aisle. She walked perfectly beside Lucifer despite wearing three-inch heels.

When they made it to the front, they turned around and lined up on one side of the arch, Castiel now sandwiched in between his two older siblings. The sun was shining on them, although it wasn't directly in their eyes. Still, that helped calm the teenager, since it made it more difficult to make out individual faces in the crowd.

As they'd rehearsed, Sam's party came out next. First was Dean and Brady, Sam's college friend who was now his therapist. They walked toward the arch together, and a few steps behind them came Sam in his snow-white tuxedo. He towered over his mother, who had won the argument regarding who was going to get to walk her son down the aisle. She let go of his arm when they reached the front, and the two shared a hug before she went to sit next to John in the front row. Sam stepped up to take his place next to Dean, across from Lucifer. Both men looked radiant, and Castiel found he was smiling warmly despite his earlier anxiety. He was still in awe of the relationship his older brother had with Sam; rarely had he seen anything like it.

The singer finished her song, and returned to her seat. Sam and Lucifer took each others' hands, as Charlie stepped up so that she was standing just behind their linked hands. "Ladies, Gentlemen, Nonbinary Entities, and Other Peeps, welcome. We are here today to witness this couple pledge their love and lives to one another. This is a very special day for Sam and Lucifer. I am honored that they have allowed me to share it with them, and I hope you feel the same way." She looked at Sam and Lucifer, eyes twinkling, and then out at the crowd. "Having said that, if you know them, you know they are both massive nerds, and the ceremony will reflect that. For example, to begin with, I will share a few thoughts about what we are all witnessing here today. Mawwage. Mawwage is wot brings us togeder today." Most of the crowd recognized the reference and began laughing; those who didn't leaned over to ask someone to explain it to them.

Castiel, wide-eyed, looked up at Rafa. Charlie hadn't given her speech at the rehearsal. Rafa was laughing along with everyone else, and patted Castiel on the shoulder. "I will explain later," she whispered to him.

" tweasure your wuv," Charlie finished with a solemn nod. "In all seriousness, Sam, Lucifer, you two have something truly special, and you should treasure it. I call upon each and every one of you witnesses present today to do what you can to support these two men as they embark upon the ultimate journey together, like Han and Leia, Harry and Ginny, or Sherlock and John Watson before them...though that last one might not be strictly canon. In writing their own love story, Sam and Lucifer decided to write their own vows for today. Both expressed to me that they were nervous about this part, but I assured them that no matter what they had written, it would be better than Twilight." There was another round of laughter. "So...Lucifer? I believe you have something to say to Sam?"

Lucifer took a deep breath and looked into Sam's eyes. "Samuel Lewis Winchester," he began. "When I met you, I knew what it was to love, but not to be loved. I'm an artist, but there is no canvas large enough, no paintbrush fine enough, no color beautiful enough for me to fully express what you and your love mean to me. I love you, and I, Lucifer Aaron Shurley, vow that I will always love you. I promise I will always be there for you, in every way that I can, no matter what happens. I will do my best to make you as happy as you've made me."

Castiel felt tears prick his eyes as his older brother spoke. He was able to blink them back, but he heard Rafa sniffling behind him and glanced up, then handed his handkerchief to his sister. She gave him a smile of thanks as she used it to wipe her tears away.

"Sam?" Charlie prompted. The red-haired woman was still beaming, apparently immune to tears.

Sam's eyes were a bright blue color at the moment. "Lucifer Aaron Shurley. I love you with all of my heart, and all of my soul, and I will always love you. You are more precious to me than the One Ring; you are my final frontier. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I, Samuel Lewis Winchester, vow that I will never stop showing you the love you deserve. I will care for you, Luce, in sickness and in health, and be your safe space for the rest of my life."

A significant number of the guests were drying their eyes at this point. Lucifer had a tear running down his face, but he was smiling so hard that Castiel thought it looked like it hurt. The teenager shifted his weight; he knew that the rings came after the vows. He carefully reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring he'd been entrusted with. When Charlie called for it, he stepped up, holding it in the palm of his hand for his older brother to take. Lucifer did so with a smile, and then turned back to take Sam's hand again. "With this ring I thee wed," he told Sam, emotion choking his voice as he slid the ring onto Sam's finger.

Charlie nodded to Sam, who turned to Dean. Sam's older brother patted his pockets, a stricken look on his face. No way, Castiel thought, his eyes widening. He forgot the ring. Just as Sam gave Dean the most epic of bitchfaces, Dean grinned widely at his younger brother and produced the ring. "Jerk," Sam hissed.

"Bitch," Dean replied as Sam took the ring from him.

Sam turned his back on his brother, and took Lucifer's hand. "With this ring I thee wed," he declared, sliding it on as the smile returned to his face.

Charlie's smile, meanwhile, became even brighter. "I now pronounce you husband and husband," she declared. "You may kiss each other."

Castiel watched as Sam and Lucifer leaned in for a kiss that they somehow kept chaste, yet held for much too long. There was a wolf-whistle or two, and they finally broke apart, grinning at each other.

Charlie gestured to the singer again, who stood up and began to sing a second Enya melody. Holding hands, Lucifer and Sam began to walk up the aisle. People threw native California seeds over them instead of rice, and Castiel smiled to see them so happy, even as he lined up with Dean for the short walk to the back. Dean grinned at him, and Castiel smiled back politely.

The wedding photographer (another friend of Lucifer's) wanted to take pictures of the wedding party at the location, so they all stepped to the side as the guests filed out, each stopping to congratulate Sam and Lucifer. Ronald Reznick, their social worker, stopped to speak with Castiel, asking him how he was doing and whether or not he was getting along with all of his friends. Castiel happily answered Ron's questions as the crowd thinned.

After the guests left, the photographer had them line up in one spot after another, in several different combinations, snapping away as they all smiled. Later, everyone would agree that the best set of pictures from the wedding was the series where Castiel realized that a yellow-faced bumblebee had landed on Sam's boutonniere and he brought the whole process to a halt so that he could capture the insect to add it to his collection. Once the bee was captured, everyone had hugged Castiel and ruffled his hair, much to Rafa's initial dismay and eventual participation. The candid shots the photographer took perfectly captured the dynamics of the little family and their closest friends.

Eventually, the photographer finished and Sam and Lucifer got into their car, which proclaimed in numerous ways that they were 'Just Married.' They drove off, honking as everyone else waved. Castiel ducked into their tent with Rafa, who collected her purse and things; he'd be driving with her to the reception. He tried to come up with an accurate summary of the event for his big sister, but all he managed to say was, "That was nice." Rafa seemed to understand, though, and gave him a big hug before they left.

Chapter Text

Lucifer was somewhere far above cloud nine as he and Sam walked into Benny's restaurant. It was a bit awkward, as they had wrapped their arms around each other's waists and refused to let go, but they laughed and somehow made it inside without ending up sprawled on the floor. As soon as the crowd spotted them, a cheer went up, and a few of their guests wolf-whistled. They waved, and then made their way over to the head table. Lisa, Ben, Sarah, Madison, and Jessica (who was now Brady's wife) along with John and Mary were there already--Sam and Lucifer reluctantly let go of one another so they could hug their guests.

The rest of the wedding party arrived shortly after they did, and soon everyone was enjoying the best Cajun food west of the Rockies, courtesy of Benny. Once everyone was served and seated, Dean stood up and gestured to the emcee, who killed the music. Dean then hit his fork against his glass, and the crowd quieted. "Time for a toast!" he said, holding up his glass. "Also known as the best man's speech, also known as payback for what Sammy said about me at my wedding."

A look of mild fear crossed Sam's face, and Lucifer squeezed his husband's hand under the table. Husband. He would never, ever, ever get tired of using that word to describe the man sitting next to him. Impulsively, he leaned over to give Sam a quick peck on the cheek.

"So this one time when we were kids," Dean began after the crowd had finished chuckling, "Sammy finds like the only really tall tree in Kansas and climbs it. Only problem is, he can't get down. So I'm walking along, and I start hearing these really quiet cries for 'help,'" he mimicked the softness of the call, while Sam slowly turned bright red. "At first, I thought I was just imagining them, but finally I decided to go look. Eventually, I find Sammy up in the very top of this tree, arms around a branch, looking terrified and calling out for help. Being the wonderful, caring big brother that I am, I start laughing at him." There were more chuckles from the guests. "Once I calmed down, I told him to just climb back down the tree, but he insisted he was stuck and couldn't get down. I told him I'd go get Mom and Dad and they could get a ladder, but he made me promise I wouldn't."

"So eventually," Dean continued, "I had to climb the tree myself and help him get down, handhold by handhold. I called him 'tree boy' for the rest of the summer." Sam finally buried his face in Lucifer's neck, unable to stand the continued embarrassment, and Lucifer put his arm around Sam and gave Dean a mock-glare. Dean just winked in response. "I promise there's a point to all of this, besides embarrassing my brother," he told everyone. "Another time, when he was older, he called me from Stanford. He was drunk--he'd gone out to a party and somehow forgotten he had a major paper due the next day. So, he begged me to stay up with him so he didn't fall asleep, and made me listen to the sentences he wrote to make sure they made sense. Half the time, they didn't. But somehow, I got my little brother through the night and in the morning he turned in his paper."

"I got a B on it too!" Sam interrupted, causing the guests to laugh once more.

"ANYWAY," Dean chuckled, "My point is, in life, a lot of the time, you get in over your head and you need someone to help you. When you're married, that someone is your partner. God knows Lisa has talked me down from a tree or two over the years." He bent over to give his wife a quick kiss as she smiled up at him. "My little brother might not always make the best decisions, but one good decision he has made is choosing this man right here, Lucifer, to be the one to help him through the rest of his life." There was some scattered applause and cheering. "Lucifer has a good head on his shoulders, and I'm sure he'll be able to get Sammy down from any tree he climbs up. Just in case, though, Lucifer, I want you to know that you're family now too, and if you need any help with him, just let us know." Dean raised his glass again. "To Sam and Lucifer!"

The rest of the crowd repeated the phrase and drank, as Sam lifted his head back up and slowly started to lose his resemblance to a tomato. "Jerk," he hissed as Dean sat down.

"Bitch," Dean replied with a grin. Lisa elbowed him for using the language in front of Sarah, but Dean didn't look at all repentant.

Rafa stood up next, clinking her own glass. "Greetings," she said. "Unfortunately, Castiel does not enjoy speaking in front of people, so you will have to listen to me instead." It was Castiel's turn to redden, though Rafa gave him a kind smile and a gentle pat on the back. "I considered telling embarrassing stories about Lucifer as a child, but only briefly. Most of what I remember about him is the very opposite of embarrassing. Lucifer had an enormous heart. He used to bring home baby birds that had fallen out of the nest and try to nurse them back to health. When they did not make it, he would cry and insist that we bury them out by the nests so 'their parents could visit their graves.'" She directed a fond look at Lucifer, who could feel himself blushing.

Sam leaned over to whisper in his ear. "That's so adorable." He squeezed Lucifer's hand, and then pulled back.

"Of the three of us older children," Rafa continued, "Lucifer was always the kindest, and he loved us with all of his heart. I always knew he would do anything for me if I asked him. When I found him after years of being separated...the first thing he wanted to know was how I was doing." She paused to collect her thoughts and dab at her eyes with a handkerchief, the audience hanging on every word. "For a long time, my only wish for my brother is that he would find someone as loving and kind as he is to love him back. Little did I know that he had already found that person." She gave Lucifer a slightly teary smile. "And today, Luci married him. The only thing I wish for now is that these two men get the opportunity to have many happy years together. To Lucifer and Sam." As the crowd toasted them, both Lucifer and Sam stood up to hug Rafa, and Madison gave her a chaste kiss as she sat back down.

"Dude, you really used to--ow!" Dean's shins had been kicked by several different people at the table before he could finish asking Lucifer about the baby birds. He directed his glare at Sam, who gave him a perfectly innocent look in return.

Lucifer, however, had felt Mary's foot go by over his stretched-out leg, so he wasn't surprised when she said, "Dean. Best behavior."

"But Mom--"

"No buts, Dean." Mary pointed a fork at her eldest son. "Behave. Now. Castiel. They tell me you just finished your freshman year in high school?"

Castiel startled, looking surprised to be called out, but nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Winchester. I finished in May." The conversation continued from there as the emcee turned back on the music, though Lucifer really only had eyes for Sam. His husband.

Sam caught him staring, and grinned. "Hi," he said, leaning over to give Lucifer another kiss before twining their fingers together again. "How are you doing, sweetheart?"

"Amazing," Lucifer replied without thinking.

"Good," Sam replied. "I'm glad...husband." Lucifer immediately decided that if there was anything better than thinking and saying that word, it was having Sam use it to refer to him. He pulled Sam into another kiss and then turned back to the table--which was a good thing, as Dean was halfheartedly threatening to throw water on them to get them apart.

Chapter Text

Soon, it was time for them to cut the cake. Another artist friend of Lucifer's who created edible art had patterned the cake after Lucifer's painting of the sunrise. Sam felt a bit guilty as they sliced into it, their wedding photographer snapping away. Together, they wrangled two slices onto plates. Sam picked one of them up along with a fork as Lucifer did the same, and, laughing, they managed to feed each other without getting too much cake on each other's faces. Sam heard the camera go off again as he leaned forward to press his lips to Lucifer's, but he couldn't care less at this point.

Benny's staff--those who weren't guests at the wedding, at any rate--began to cut up the cake and distribute it to the guests. Benny himself stood up to supervise the project, as the newly-married couple made their way back to their seats. Spotting Castiel in his seat looking a little lost--he and Ben had exchanged pleasantries and promptly decided that they were apparently from different species and would forego talking with one another for the rest of the event--Sam crouched down by the teenager, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing it. "Hey, Castiel. How are you doing?"

"That boy needs a nickname," Dean pointed out around a mouthful of cake before the teenager could answer. "Castiel is way too long. It should be like...Cas or something. Yeah, Cas. I like that."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother--despite the fact that the nickname was catchy--and turned back to his son-slash-little-brother-in-law. "I'm okay," the teenager replied. "I'm just glad I don't have to dance."

"I don't blame you," Sam laughed. "Did you get some cake?"

"Yeah. It was good, but not as good as Mrs. Harvelle's," Cas informed Sam.

"You should go tell her that," Sam responded, nodding in Ellen's direction. She and Jo were seated at a table not far away, along with Bobby and Karen and their son. Sam knew she and Jo would be delighted to entertain 'Cas.'

Castiel's face lit up as he glanced over. "I can do that?"

"Sure. You watch, any time now people are going to start getting up and mingling, waiting for the dancing to start," Sam told him.

"Thanks, Sam." Castiel gave the tall man a quick hug, and then hurried off. He didn't seem to notice Sam staring after him in disbelief: up until now, the teenager had only ever called him "Mr. Winchester." Sam had thought he couldn't be any happier today, but hearing Castiel address him with such familiarity managed to make his heart grow a few more sizes.

Lucifer laughed at the look on Sam's face. "He's probably decided he can call you that because you're part of the family now or something," he explained as he helped his husband back to his feet. "Or maybe you're just that good with him. Ready for the dances?" Lucifer's eyes twinkled with mischief.

"No," Sam replied. "And neither are you. I thought I told you to wear your steel-toed boots?" They had had to take a ballroom class together to get ready for their first dance, and had discovered several things. First, Lucifer at least had a decent sense of rhythm; while he wasn't a natural dancer, he wasn't terrible at it, either. Sam, on the other hand... Sam was about as gifted in the dancing department as he was in the chopping-vegetables department. They had practiced their first dance dozens of times by now, but Sam knew he was still going to mess it up.

"You're going to be fine," Lucifer told him. "But just remember, if you do break any of my toes, it's you who'll have to be carrying me all over...wherever we're going." Sam had kept the location of their honeymoon a secret, which was a mild bone of contention between them, although he had repeatedly assured Lucifer the surprise would be more than worth it.

Sam just laughed, and the two checked in with Rafa and Mary before signalling the Master of Ceremonies to let him know they were ready for the first dance. The MC made a brief announcement to that effect, and their friends and family circled around the dance floor to watch them. Sam could feel himself blushing, but took hold of Lucifer and nodded to the MC. After some consultation with their dance instructor, they'd chosen a simple waltz that 'anyone could dance to;' it was called Byerly's Waltz, and had the added bonus of being fairly short. Technically, Sam was leading, although that was only so that Lucifer was the one doing the more complex turns and movements. As the music started, Sam began counting under his breath: 'One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three' and then stepped out on the beat like he'd been taught.

An inordinate number of seconds later, Sam dipped and then kissed Lucifer as the song finished and sent up a mental prayer. They'd missed a turn, but he doubted anyone but Castiel had noticed. "Good job, babe, I told you you could do it," Lucifer told him quietly as Sam helped him up.

"Barely," Sam murmured, before reaching out a long arm to pull Mary onto the dance floor for their adapted father-daughter dance. Since she'd only just arrived, they hadn't practiced much, but Sam contented himself in the knowledge that Lucifer and Rafa would also be dancing, so he wouldn't have quite as much attention on him as he had for the last song. "You look beautiful, Mom," he told Mary--yes, he'd said it already today, but saying it again didn't hurt. Especially when he was fairly certain he'd be stepping on her feet at least once in the next five minutes.

"Flatterer," she retorted, though she gave him a smile. "I'm so happy for you, Sam. And proud of you, too. Castiel is so polite!"

Sam chuckled. "He was that way before we even met him," he admitted. Another easy waltz--Valser dans l'ombre--started up, and he stopped chatting and started counting. Mary smirked at him, knowing exactly how poor of a dancer he was. Thankfully, though, she fell silent so Sam could count his way through the dance. He made a few missteps, but his mother was nimble enough that she avoided any injuries.

"Just like your father, three left feet," she teased Sam as they finished. Sam let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and then stepped to the side as other couples--including Dean and Lisa and Brady and Jessica--replaced them on the dance floor. Mary gave Sam a hug, and then turned to make her way back to John.

Sam glanced around--sometimes, being taller than everyone else was nice--and spotted Lucifer chatting with Rafa. He walked over and slipped an arm around the taller of the pair. Lucifer gave him a quick smile, as Rafa finished her sentence. " before, so she'll know what I'm going to look like."

"That makes sense," Lucifer replied. "Just don't wait too long. She's good for you, Raffie, as good as Sam is for me."

"Already plotting who's going to catch the non-existent bouquet?" Sam teased the siblings.

"Oh, we already had that worked out months ago," Rafa replied. "Just be glad Castiel is staying with me for the next few weeks, because his head is going to explode when those flowers land in his hands."

"Oh, god, can you imagine?" Lucifer asked, laughing. "Please make sure that doesn't happen, Raffie. I'm not sure there are enough therapists in the entire world."

Rafa laughed as well. "I will make certain he is standing somewhere else, I promise. Now, I am going to go find my girlfriend so that we can dance, and you two should go speak with the guests who do not see you on a regular basis."

"Good idea," Sam said. Still, as she smiled at them and then walked off, he turned to Lucifer. "How are you, sweetheart?" He knew Lucifer tended to get overwhelmed in crowds of people, no matter how well-wishing they might be.

"I'm...all right," Lucifer replied after a few moments' thought. "I am getting a bit tired, though."

"Do you want some caffeine before we talk to the guests?" Sam normally wouldn't propose such a solution, but in this case, Lucifer couldn't leave until they had greeted everyone.

"Yeah." Lucifer smiled up at Sam and then let him lead him over to the bar, where they both ordered colas. Sam waited until his husband had drunk about half before propelling him toward the first cluster of wedding guests.

Chapter Text

Sam and Lucifer made their way through their guests, making sure everyone had a chance to speak with them and that they were having a good time. Between the open bar and the MC they had hired (who played a mixture of music and thus managed to have a variety of participants dance at least once), it seemed that everyone was. Soon, people began departing on the shuttle they were using to take people between Benny's restaurant, Bela's art gallery (for those who wanted to see more of Lucifer's paintings; Benny had several on the walls of his restaurant), and the various hotels and bed and breakfasts the people from out of town were staying at.

Sam kept an eye on his husband, knowing that Lucifer was running on borrowed time as far as his tolerance of people and crowds went. Indeed, it wasn't long before Sam noticed the tell-tale signs that his husband was sporting a headache. Unfortunately, there wasn't much he could do about it; he knew that more caffeine would eventually be counter-productive, so he just used his experience as a lawyer to make sure they kept moving around the room. Once they had made their rounds, they began to locate the members of the wedding party and say goodbye--none of the party would see the couple again until after their honeymoon. Castiel had obtained special permission to stay with Rafa for a few weeks, and Jo and Ellen were going to do a thorough spring (summer?) cleaning of the house while Sam and Lucifer were gone. Mike and Dean (the dogs) were already at a kennel that Sam and Lucifer had insisted on thoroughly researching and exploring before entrusting the staff with their animals.

After giving Mary and Rafa one last, long hug each, the two made their exit amidst more cheering and cat-calls. It was still afternoon, so they had to blink to adjust their eyes once they were outside; Lucifer groaned at the sudden overstimulation. Sam slipped his arm around Lucifer's waist. They walked back to the car that proclaimed they were 'Just Married,' Lucifer leaning on Sam the entire way.

"'M jus' gonna rest my eyes," he mumbled, once he was settled in the passenger seat.

Sam chuckled. "You do that, sweetheart." Now that his headache from the hangover was gone (and he had had a cola or two), he felt fine--amazing, even. He drove the two of them home; they had decided to spend the night in their own bed before leaving at a reasonable hour the next day for the airport and their honeymoon.

Lucifer was asleep by the time they arrived. Sam put the car in park, turned it off, and turned to watch his fian--his husband for a moment. "Hey," he said quietly, hoping to wake Lucifer gently. "We're home, Luce." Only after he spoke did he reach out to run his fingers over his husband's cheekbone.

Lucifer's eyes opened, and he smiled at Sam. "Hey...husband," he recalled. Sam loved those blue eyes of his--right now, they reminded him of moonlight reflecting off of snow.

"We're home," Sam pointed out again, assuming that Lucifer hadn't really heard him the first time. "How are you?"

Lucifer stretched, then tilted his head to the side while taking stock. "Still tired," he admitted, making a face. "And a bit headachy. But happy. Today was amazing." He leaned over to gently press his lips to Sam's. "How are you, babe?"

"Maybe a bit tired," Sam admitted. "But not too tired to carry you across the threshold." Grinning, he reached for the car door and began climbing out--it was a process, when you were as tall as he was.

"Uh-uh!" Lucifer immediately protested. "I'm carrying you." He scrambled to get his own door open and get out before Sam could make it around to his door.

Sam scoffed. "I'm younger than you," he pointed out as he closed his door and circled the car. Pausing, he suggested the method by which they'd decided most things when they had a disagreement or couldn't decide. "Flip a coin?"

"No." Lucifer closed the car door, then stepped over to Sam, poking his chest with a finger. "You're younger than me, and you're healthier. So, you're the only one of us who has a prayer of lifting the other in twenty-five years when we renew our vows. So you can carry me then. It's my turn, and even you can't argue your way out of that one."

Sam's eyes widened; it was uncharacteristic of Lucifer to be so adamant about something. He immediately started thinking of ways that he could counter the argument--he was a lawyer, after all--but luckily his heart smacked him upside the head then and reminded him of what Lucifer had actually said. In no time at all, he found himself blinking back tears at the thought of spending the next quarter-century with Lucifer. "All right," was what finally came out of his mouth.

Lucifer grinned, and bent down to scoop Sam up. It wasn't easy, but pride is a powerful motivator. "You have the key, right?" he asked as he walked toward the door, Sam's arms around his neck.

"Yeah, I'll get it," replied Sam, fishing in his pocket with one hand. It felt beyond strange to be carried like this, but also nice. He made certain to get the key into the lock before leaning up to kiss his husband; otherwise, he knew they'd be standing outside for a good five minutes. He managed to unlock the door and twist the doorknob; Lucifer nudged the door open with a foot.

Lucifer broke the kiss long enough to watch so he didn't slam Sam's head or feet into the doorjamb as he carried him inside. Once there, he recaptured Sam's lips--and set him down. His husband was not a small man.

Sam let the kiss go on until they both had to break for air, then he shut the door and disarmed the security system. "Gods, the way you look in that tux," he murmured, eyes raking over Lucifer.

"I look? You should see yourself," Lucifer retorted. "I always want you, but right now...? I could eat you."

"Really? I'm still full from the reception," Sam snarked, and they both laughed. "Besides, we promised to wait, remember?" He stepped over to Lucifer and pulled him into his arms, then rubbed his back. "We'll take a nap, make sure you're feeling better, and then we'll consummate this marriage." They'd known that the stress of the wedding and reception would probably get to both of them, so they'd agreed ahead of time that they'd take some time to relax before having sex.

Lucifer groaned. "Say that again and I won't be able to wait, headache or no."

"What, consummate this marriage?" Sam smirked.

"Fuck." Lucifer pulled his husband close and kissed him again. "That's not fair," he grumbled at him afterwards.

Sam just laughed. "All's fair in love and war. Now, c'mon, I want to give you a neck massage to try to get rid of that headache and then cuddle with you."

"I told you, stop talking sexy," Lucifer complained, but he was smiling as Sam pulled him up the steps and down the hall to their bedroom.

Chapter Text

Lucifer woke up from their nap first. He stretched, and then grinned stupidly as he spotted his ring on his hand. He turned to see Sam beside him, clutching his pillow with both arms and snoring softly. He watched his husband sleep for a few moments, and then reached to the bedside table for his phone. They'd left them at home for the day, and he felt the itch to check his e-mail and social media accounts. Okay, mostly he wanted to post 'I'm now Mr. Winchester!!!' to said social media accounts--which he did. He also browsed through some of his friends' feeds, as some of them had already uploaded pictures of the wedding and reception.

Before he set the phone back down, he checked the website they'd set up in lieu of having a registry. Sam and Lucifer already had everything they needed (and then some), and many of their friends were not as well-off as they were. After some discussion, they had decided to ask their guests to donate to their favorite charity, a local one that helped homeless LGBTQ+ kids stay safe. The amount each guest donated was anonymous, but the website displayed the total raised. Lucifer noticed that the total had gone up since he'd checked it this morning, so he scrolled down--everyone who donated was able to leave the couple a brief message, if they so desired.

"Sam. Wake up," Lucifer put urgency in his tone; this was important.

"Ngh?" Sam was a morning person, but he had a hard time waking up from naps unless he'd completed a full sleep cycle.

"Wake up, babe." Lucifer reached over and gave Sam's shoulder a little shake. "You're not going to believe this."

Sam was still more than half out of it. "Wha?" The eye that wasn't currently buried in the pillow opened and looked up at Lucifer in confusion.

Lucifer felt a brief pang of guilt--it wasn't as if this was an actual emergency or anything. He'd already woken Sam up, though, so he might as well tell him. "It's Mikey. He donated to our charity fund." He turned the phone and held it up so Sam could see it.

"Hmm?" Sam rolled over and took the phone after looking at it cross-eyed for a few uncomprehending moments. "Mikey?"

"Michael. My brother," Lucifer clarified. "You remember?"

Sam seemed to be getting up to speed as he sat up. "Yeah," he confirmed. "He donated? Really?" He scrolled through the messages people had left on the website until he got to Michael's. It read, 'I'm sorry for everything, brother. Congratulations to you and Sam.' "Wow, Luce, that's--wow."

"Yeah." Lucifer forced the word out through the various emotions choking him. He'd thought his brother didn't want anything to do with them; it was more than a bit of a shock to realize he'd been wrong. Not a bad shock, exactly, but definitely a shock. He wondered what had changed Michael's mind so suddenly and completely.

"You all right?" his husband asked solicitously. The hand not holding the phone came up to cup Lucifer's face.

Lucifer nodded, leaning into Sam's hand. "Yeah," he repeated. "It's just a bit...overwhelming...I wasn't expecting it."

"Neither was I," Sam admitted. He handed the phone back. "Do you want to call him? Or e-mail him?"

Lucifer considered the question for a few moments, and then shook his head, focusing his attention on Sam. "After the honeymoon," he said decisively, setting the phone back on the table. "Which reminds me, you still haven't told me where we're going!"

Sam just laughed, mischief in his hazel eyes. "You'll find out tomorrow, once we get to the airport," he promised, getting up to straddle his husband's hips. When Lucifer mock-pouted, Sam kissed it away. "I promise, you'll love it," he told him.

Lucifer almost said something snarky, and then smiled instead, enfolding Sam in his arms. "Of course I will," he replied, tone turning serious. "You'll be there with me."

"I love you, Luce," Sam replied.

"I love you too, Sam." Lucifer leaned up to kiss his husband. They kissed slowly, as if they didn't already have each other's mouths memorized. The hand that was on Lucifer's cheek slid around to the back of his head and began running through his hair; Sam's other hand settled on his lower back.

Lucifer pulled Sam closer to him as they kissed and began to run his hands over his back. He loved the definition Sam's regular exercise routine lent his muscles; it made him mentally promise himself he'd start exercising more often.

The two didn't need to talk to know that they both wanted it slow and sweet tonight; Lucifer felt it in Sam's gentle, unhurried touches and slow kisses. He took his time tracing over the muscles in his husband's back, slowly working his way lower until his fingers slid underneath the elastic of Sam's boxers. He pushed them down--they could worry about 'off' later--and gently squeezed Sam's ass, eliciting a groan from the other man.

Lucifer slowly laid back, pulling Sam with him. They took a moment or two to get comfortable and remove their remaining clothes, and then resumed kissing, Sam now laying on top of Lucifer. The blonde heard more than saw Sam rummaging around in the nightstand for lube. On one hand, he wanted tonight to last forever--on the other, he was already getting impatient. He wanted Sam inside of him, yesterday.

Sam seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because he disentangled himself from Lucifer and sat up, kneeling between his lover's legs. "You ready?" he asked breathlessly as he spread the lube over his fingers.

"Yes," Lucifer breathed, pulling his knees up to give Sam better access. Sam slid a finger inside, and then leaned over to take one of Lucifer's pierced nipples in his mouth. Lucifer threw his head back and let out a moan worthy of a porn star--Sam could play his nipples like a fine musical instrument by now. The blonde barely even noticed when one finger became two, and two became three, although he did whine when Sam switched sides. "Feels so good," he managed to gasp out, causing Sam to chuckle against his chest.

Sam lifted his head up. "You look so gorgeous like this, Luce," he said as he finally pulled his fingers out. He held eye contact as he replaced them with his cock and slowly began to push in.

"Please, Sam," Lucifer wasn't even sure what he was begging for, but adding, "more," seemed appropriate, so he did. Sam's hair hung down around his face; Lucifer reached up to run his fingers through it and then pulled Sam down for a kiss once he bottomed out. They accidentally knocked their teeth together, but just laughed and kept kissing with more feelings than finesse.

Sam began to thrust, and Lucifer gloried in the feel of Sam's piercing sliding along his walls and prostate. He was so glad he'd talked Sam into doing that. Everything had turned out fine despite Sam's worries, and Lucifer knew for a fact that Sam rather enjoyed it now that it wasn't hurting any longer. "You feel so good around me...husband," Sam told him, laughing when the word caused Lucifer to clench down on him and moan. " it when I call you that?"

Lucifer did. He really, really did. "Yes...husband," he gasped out, causing Sam to groan and twitch inside him. Two could play at this game. Neither of them wanted this to finish too soon, though, so they both stayed relatively quiet for a while.

"I'm close," Sam finally gasped, his pace picking up a little. "You?"

"Yeah. Come with me, Sam?" Lucifer begged. He could already feel himself starting to tense up. "Husband?" The word sent both of them spiraling over the edge together, Sam shouting Lucifer's name as he filled him up. Lucifer barely registered Sam collapsing on top of him; he just felt sated and so, so happy. He was pretty sure there was a stupid smile on his face, and equally sure he didn't care.

They cuddled for a while after that, but eventually Lucifer looked up from where his head was pillowed on Sam's chest. He was still grinning lazily. "What do you think about a bath and then a rimjob?" the lawyer asked when they made eye contact.

"Sounds perfect." Lucifer was already certain this was the best day of his life, and it wasn't even over yet.

Chapter Text

They made it to the airport the next day with plenty of time to spare despite Lucifer's struggles to get his bags to close. Sam had finally given him a weather forecast, so he at least knew what to pack. Unfortunately 'around 80 and mostly sunny' applied to a large number of locations in the summer, so it didn't really narrow down the location of their honeymoon. If Lucifer had been a little more familiar with airports, the number of boarding passes the kiosk printed out for Sam might have helped clue him in, but this was one of the first times he'd flown, so he didn't notice anything.

Lucifer started to walk over to the line where they'd have to wait to drop off their bags, but Sam grabbed him by the shoulder and steered him toward a couple of open seats instead. "The gate agent will spoil the surprise," Sam explained. " this first." He handed Lucifer a heavy rectangular package wrapped in gold paper with an almost shy look.

Lucifer took a seat, and accepted the package. He turned it over a few times and was fairly certain he knew what it was--trust Sam to think he wanted to spend his honeymoon reading a book. He couldn't imagine what it had to do with their destination, though. "Oookay," he drawled.

"Open it," Sam urged him with a grin.

Lucifer smiled back, and began ripping off the paper. The book--he'd been right about that much--was beautiful, with a huge picture of the Mona Lisa on the back. He turned it over, and saw a photograph of the painting in situ. The title of the book was Art of the Louvre. Lucifer stared at it without comprehension for a time, and then looked up at Sam. "I don't understand," he admitted.

Sam smiled kindly and handed Lucifer his boarding passes with a pointed look. Lucifer began shuffling through them. San Francisco to LaGuardia...okay, New York could be fun, but there were more? LaGuardia to, London? Wait, did that mean--had Sam really--Lucifer checked the last one. Sure enough, it was for a short flight from London to Paris. They were going to Paris. "Holy shit," Lucifer breathed. "Sam--" Words abandoned him, so he stood up and threw his arms around the younger man.

Sam was starting to look worried by the time he was attack-hugged; the laugh he gave in response sounded relieved. "We're going to stay at a hotel right by the Louvre," he explained. "We'll be able to walk to it, so we can go as often as you like. I also printed out some information about their rotating exhibits, so you'd know exactly which paintings they have. All I ask is that we spend one day sightseeing--the Eiffel Tower, L'arc d'Triomphe, and so on. I don't want to have to explain to my parents why I went to Paris but didn't see the Tower."

Someone in the airport was chopping onions, because Lucifer's eyes were wet. His cheeks, too. "Of course," he whispered hoarsely. "Anything, Sam." He couldn't quite believe that any of this was real; that he was going to get to see paintings done by the true masters of art in person. As an artist himself... "You're too good to me." Lucifer had been trying to stop saying things like that, on Garth's advice, but he couldn't help it this time.

"I'm only as good to you as you deserve, sweetheart," Sam replied, kissing Lucifer's cheek. "If I had my way, I'd give you anything you wanted. Now...we should probably go drop our bags off. You can put your book in my carry-on; I left room for it. That way, you can look at it on the plane."

"Thanks, Sam."

"You're welcome, Luce."

Chapter Text

Their flights were mostly uneventful. Lucifer poured over Art of the Louvre during their flight from San Francisco to LaGuardia, except for a few minutes he spent quietly pestering Sam about joining the Mile-High Club before they left the United States.

For once, Sam didn't give in to his husband. "Have you seen those bathrooms, Luce? I don't think either of us would fit in one, let alone both of us. Anyway, getting arrested is not the way we should start our honeymoon." Once Lucifer got a good look at just how small the bathrooms were, he stopped bugging Sam about it and went back to his book. Meanwhile, Sam re-watched the latest Marvel movie on the screen in front of him.

By the time they got to LaGuardia, they were already stiff and sore, and the trek to the international terminal actually seemed to hurt more than it helped to loosen them up. LaGuardia had very little in the way of decor and amenities that actually comforted or calmed humans--it seemed to be built for robots without personalities, and the airport patrons generally responded negatively. There were people running from one gate to another looking frazzled, people arguing with one another, and children screaming no matter where in the airport Sam and Lucifer went.

They both managed to sleep a little on the plane from New York to London, and while it wasn't restful, the fact that they could lean on each other helped dramatically. In what seemed like no time at all, however, the plane's lights came on and the lead flight attendant was describing the breakfast options. Sam and Lucifer stretched as well as they could in the limited room--their knees were flush against the seats in front of them--and then prepared for what turned out to be a meal that, while nothing to write home about, was at least edible.

They had to collect their bags to get through Heathrow, even though they were going from one international flight to another, and a couple of British security personnel barked questions at the two as they stamped their passports. Eventually, they made it through security, re-checked their bags, and found that the Heathrow airport itself was quite nice. It was, like many other airports, decorated in metal and glass, but somehow it managed to seem more natural and welcoming than most others. Sam and Lucifer found a nice sushi restaurant on the second floor, and ate there because they were hungry, even though they had already had 'breakfast.' Finally, they made their way to their gate to wait for their last flight. They were quieter than normal; neither one was in what could be called a good mood by now, and neither wanted to be the first to say something they'd regret to the other.

They made it through the last flight, which was blissfully short compared to their others. Once in Paris, they collected their things, went through customs, exchanged some money, and shuffled, zombie-like, out to find the bus that would take them into the city center. They had to change buses once they were in the city, but eventually, they stepped out onto the Louvre plaza with all their luggage. Lucifer appeared to get a second wind when he saw the glass pyramid in front; his eyes lit up, and he nudged his husband with an elbow. "Sam! Sam, look! It's the Louvre!"

Sam found he couldn't summon the same enthusiasm. "We'll go tomorrow," he groaned. "For now, let's find the hotel and get some sleep in an actual bed." He was also daydreaming about putting his bags down--his shoulders were burning just from hauling his carry-on across two continents, let alone his actual luggage.

"Yeah--of course." Lucifer tore his eyes away from the museum, and turned to follow Sam toward their hotel. Their rolling bags rattled across the cobblestones, and they drew more than one glare from what appeared to be locals thanks to the noise. Sam noticed, but couldn't bring himself to care--he just wanted to be done with this seemingly endless travel already.

Thankfully, it wasn't far to the hotel, and soon they were walking into the lobby. Sam spoke to the concierge, who checked them in and scanned both of their passports. Room keys in hand--and they were literal keys in this case--Sam and Lucifer took the elevator up to the fifth floor, where they were staying. Sam had considered booking the honeymoon suite, but ultimately decided it was better to be able to book more days in a less expensive room and make their honeymoon last as long as possible.

Their room was large and airy, the windows thrown open so that a breeze could come through. The room was on the side facing the Louvre, and Lucifer immediately moved to the window so he could look at the building's architecture from a different vantage point. Sam found spots for his bags, dropped them, and then collapsed on the king-sized bed. "Don' wan' move," he announced.

Lucifer glanced back at him and chuckled. "You don't have to, babe. You stay right there." He walked over and helped Sam out of his shoes and socks, setting them neatly to the side. He took one of their bags into the bathroom; Sam could hear him setting things out on the sink and assumed it was their razors, toothbrushes and the like. He vaguely wondered how Lucifer could still move; Sam was certain that if he closed his eyes, he'd be asleep in minutes. The fact that the bed was extremely comfortable wasn't helping.

Sam heard the water in the bathroom start; apparently Lucifer was going to take a shower before joining him in bed. Sam couldn't blame him; he wanted one too, but that would involve getting up again. Instead, Sam fished out his phone with one of his overlong arms, and after checking to make sure that the international service he'd set up was working, he sent quick texts to Rafa and Cas, his parents, and Dean, letting them know that he and Lucifer had arrived safely. That done, he stripped out of everything but his boxers, uncharacteristically letting the clothes drop to the ground next to the bed. He would clean up later, after a nap. Now, he burrowed under the covers and decided to rest his eyes until Lucifer got out of the shower.


When Lucifer did get out, towel wrapped around his waist, he found Sam snoring gently, starfished across the bed. Chuckling softly, he found a clean pair of boxers and put them on before snapping a photo of Sam with his phone for later blackmail purposes. Setting the phone on the nightstand, he climbed in beside his husband, snuggled up to him, and fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Sam woke up first, disoriented and with a headache--the many hours on the planes had dehydrated him. He carefully extracted himself from Lucifer, who had curled up around him, and then got up and went into the bathroom. He used the facilities, poured himself a glass of water and drank it, then showered and shaved. When he emerged from the bathroom, he dressed in comfortable clothes--shorts and a T-shirt--before checking the time on his phone and responding to some texts. He then paged through the motel's information booklet (at least, the section that was in English) and thought for a few minutes, then called the front desk while trying to roll out his sore shoulders.

Once he had finished his phone call, he moved over to the window to look outside. The view was pretty enough (although they couldn't see the Eiffel Tower from their window): the glass pyramid outside the Louvre caught the late-afternoon sunlight and somehow managed to look more impressive than the enormous ancient building behind it. Sam knew Lucifer would have the perfect word to describe the effect; all Sam knew was that it looked nice.

He wandered back toward the bed after a time, and picked up the clothes he'd dropped on the floor. Once he'd stowed them in what he was going to use as a laundry bag, he started to unpack, setting his clean clothes in the wardrobe. About halfway through, he happened to look back toward the bed and see a sleepy Lucifer peering at him in confusion. "Hey, sweetie." Sam gave him a warm smile as he walked back to the bed and kneeled on it so he could kiss the blonde awake.

"Hey, yourself," Lucifer replied, when they finally broke apart for air. "Have a good nap?"

"Yeah, but I'm still sore from the trip," Sam admitted. "Soooo, I ordered room service."

Lucifer groaned. "It better not be escargot," he muttered. Sam was dead set on them both trying the delicacy while they were in France; Lucifer was very much opposed to it.

Sam laughed. "No. Lamb chops."

"Thank God," was Lucifer's eloquent response, before he climbed out of bed to put something on over his boxers, opting for shorts and a T-shirt like Sam.

"And THEN," Sam added, grinning as he watched Lucifer dress, "I've booked an in-room couples massage for us."

"Sam!" Lucifer blushed, but looked pleased. "You didn't have to do that!"

"I figured it would help with the sore muscles," Sam explained. "And it's not that expensive, especially since we don't have to leave a tip because they pay people a living wage in France."

"A massage would be nice," Lucifer admitted as he straightened his shirt. There was a knock on the door, and he went to get it, likely correctly assuming it was room service. "Come on in," he said as he held the door wide.

"Bonjour! Where would you like it?" the waiter asked, rolling his cart into the room.

"You can put it over here on the table," Sam instructed, pointing. He grabbed the bill holder as the cart went by and signed the check.

The waiter set everything out for them on the table in their room, including a bottle of wine. "Thank you," Lucifer said when the waiter was finished. "Um. I mean, merci boucoup?"

The waiter said 'you're welcome' in rapid fire French, smiling at Lucifer before accepting the signed bill from Sam. "Bon appetit, gentlemen. Welcome to Paris." Of course, he pronounced it 'Pah-ree' rather than 'Pear-iss.'

"Thank you," Sam added as the waiter left the room. "Mmm, that smells amazing." His mouth was watering; he was hungrier than he'd realized. He wasted no time walking over and taking a seat at the table across from Lucifer.

"It does." Lucifer was already in the process of uncovering dishes and pouring the wine. "Well, I guess the waiter's right. Bon appetit, Sam." He tucked a napkin under his chin and then raised his wine glass to clink with Sam's.

"Bon appetit, Luce," Sam replied as he raised his wine glass. He sipped from it, then tucked into his salad, closing his eyes for a moment in pleasure. "Mmmm." The two men chatted as they consumed the delicious food; Sam asked Lucifer what the first thing he wanted to see tomorrow in the Louvre was, and Lucifer explained that he wanted to go see the Mona Lisa first to avoid the long lines that usually accompanied seeing the painting. Sam was happy to tell him that they could absolutely do that.

"I can't believe I'm actually going to see these paintings. Sam, you have no idea. It would be like...I don't know, you practicing law in the same courtroom as Abraham Lincoln or something," Lucifer gestured with his fork, which still had a piece of lamb chop on it.

Sam had to laugh. "You know, Henry Ford actually had that courtroom disassembled and then reassembled near his estate," he told Lucifer. "Now it's in the Henry Ford Museum; anyone can visit it. I couldn't practice law in it, but we could go stand inside."

"We'll have to do that," Lucifer said firmly, knowing that Sam rarely took time to do the things he wanted, and instead focused on what Castiel and Lucifer wanted. "On our next vacation or something. I'm sure it'll be educational for Castiel."

"We should, yeah. There are a lot of other attractions there, too, like the Rosa Parks Bus and the car where JFK was shot--the 'magic bullet' makes a lot more sense once you actually see it." They chatted until they were finished with the meal; Sam was much more cheerful now that he'd had a nap, a shower, and a meal. He pushed the plates back--they could set them outside the door for housekeeping later--and patted his stomach. "I'm going to gain a lot of weight here if I'm not careful."

Lucifer snorted. "Like anyone besides you would actually care if you put on a few pounds. Besides, you'd just enjoy the hell out of the running you'd have to do when we got home to get it back off."

Sam laughed. "I probably would," he admitted. "Anyway, I think we're going to burn plenty of calories while we're here." He gave Lucifer a flirty wink, but then there was another knock on the door. "-After- our massage, apparently." He got up to go to the door this time, while Lucifer stayed and put the plates away. As he walked to the door, he heard Lucifer pushing the table out of the way so that the massage therapists would have enough space to set up their temporary tables.

The male and female massage therapists, Jean and Michelle, were a married couple and introduced themselves to Sam and Lucifer in excellent English (it seemed nearly everyone in Paris spoke English fluently). They constructed their temporary tables, and then asked the men to strip down to their underwear and climb onto the tables. They didn't offer to leave while the men stripped, which Sam figured was a French thing. Sam noticed Lucifer eyeing the table in trepidation, so he climbed right up and gave his husband a smile. "It'll hold you," he assured him, although he knew he looked a little silly because his legs were dangling over the end. Lucifer made a face at him, and then carefully climbed up on his own table.

The therapists made sure that their face cradles were at comfortable angles, and then Michelle turned on a portable speaker that she'd brought, which played soothing nature sounds. Jean asked them if they had any allergies or sensitivities, and Sam told him they didn't, so soon Jean was spreading massage oil on his back before starting to knead his sore muscles. "How's the pressure?" he asked Sam after a few moments in accented English.

"You can go a little deeper," Sam replied, hearing Lucifer say he was good with the pressure Michelle was exerting. Sam then allowed himself to sink into the experience as Jean found knots he didn't even know he had from being cooped up on the planes. Jean massaged his neck and shoulders first, helping him stretch out his arms and even giving him a short hand massage before moving down to his legs. He heard Lucifer make a few noises that would've made him jealous, if he hadn't known that Michelle was married and Lucifer was gay. He made a few noises himself--it was just so amazing to have an expert attack his knots (not that there was anything wrong with Lucifer's magic fingers).

Eventually, Jean instructed him to roll over, and he did so carefully, doing his best to not upset the table. Once on his back, he glanced over at Lucifer and smiled at him; Lucifer smiled back. "Enjoying yourself, Luce?" he asked.

"Yes, Sam," Lucifer replied. "Very much."

"You two are cute together," Michelle remarked, making them all chuckle. She had probably seen their wedding bands, plus the fact that there was only one bed in the room. "And in the city of Love now, where we celebrate love of all kinds!"

"We appreciate that," Sam said seriously. There were many places he wouldn't have been able to take Lucifer as a gay couple on their honeymoon. For example, most locations in the Caribbean were out; apparently they didn't want perfectly good tourist dollars.

"You don't have to worry, here. Not like in the United States. No one cares here." Sam found it cute that Michelle thought they were at a disadvantage in the States relative to France...but then again, if they didn't live in California, they very much might be.

"We're okay in the States. We live in California," Lucifer told her. He sounded a bit defensive of the United States, which made Sam have to hold in a laugh.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Michelle said as she moved down to work on his legs. "We know, California is lots like Europe."

"Parts of it," Lucifer said. He went quiet, and Sam wondered if he was thinking about his own conservative family and the other families in his hometown of Redding that voted yes on Prop 8.

Because that was the last thing he wanted Lucifer to be thinking about, Sam decided to change the subject. "California is very liberal," Sam agreed. "Although I've heard a great deal about issues with refugees here in Europe." The conversation moved immediately to refugee politics, and Lucifer soon joined back in, which made Sam smile. He didn't want Lucifer thinking too hard about his family; his mother and father were still in jail for what they'd done to Castiel, and would be for a few more years. That thought reminded Sam that Michael had actually donated to their wedding fund, which was odd. Just a few months ago, Michael had told them he wanted nothing more to do with them, and Sam had held first Castiel and then Lucifer as they cried their way through the news.

Michael likely wouldn't have changed his mind for anything less than a major event in his life. Sam hoped he and his family were okay; while he was far from a fan of his husband's oldest brother, he didn't wish them any harm. While Michelle and Lucifer chatted, Sam mentally decided to ask Rafa if she knew anything about it when they Skyped with her and Castiel tonight.

Sam felt like putty by the time Jean was finished. He slowly sat up, and then swung his legs off of the table and then got off. "Thank you," he told Jean. He had worked every single one of his knots from the flight out, and, he suspected, he and his wife had given Lucifer and he some extra time.

Jean shook his hand, and Michelle surprised him by hugging Lucifer and then giving him air-kisses to either cheek. He responded in kind, while Sam handed over their payment. Michelle and Jean cleaned up, collapsed their tables, and made their way out, wishing the couple, 'Bon Soir!' Sam grinned at Lucifer when they left. "Should I be jealous?" he teased.

"Hey, I'm not the one who had the hot French guy's hands all over him," Lucifer retorted, grinning right back. He stepped over to give Sam a hug. "That was wonderful. Both dinner and the massage. Thank you."

"Anything for you, sweetheart," Sam replied, kissing Lucifer on the forehead as he held him close. "Although, I can't lie. It was for me too. Those airplanes are like sardine cans. My -knots- had knots, I swear."

Lucifer laughed. "Let's clean up the room service and then Skype Castiel and Rafa?" he suggested.

"Sure." Sam held onto his husband for an extra moment or two and then released Lucifer so he could clean up the table while Sam got out his laptop and set it up. Lucifer set their trays outside the room door for housekeeping, and by then, Sam had connected to the internet, gotten onto Skype, and called Rafa and Castiel. He'd pulled over a chair for Lucifer, who sat down so they'd both be visible in the computer's webcam.

Soon, they could see Lucifer's sister and Castiel, who was waving excitedly. "Hi Sam! Hi Lu!" Lucifer saw Sam's grin widen as Castiel called him by his first name--apparently, the boy planned to make a habit out of it now.

"Hi Castiel. Hi Rafa," Sam and Lucifer more or less replied in unison.

"How's Paris?" Castiel demanded. "How long was the flight from New York to London? What was customs like? Have you eaten? Is the food good over there? Did you eat escargot? Or frog legs? Have you been to the Louvre yet?" All three of the adults had to laugh at his enthusiasm.

"Hey, hey, one question at a time, Cas," Lucifer replied. Sam noted that his husband had picked up Dean's nickname for the kid, and briefly wondered how Dean always managed to give everyone contagious nicknames. "Paris is amazing. The food is amazing. We haven't made it to the museum yet; we're going to go first thing tomorrow. We're still really jet lagged," he explained.

"That's not surprising, you're ten hours ahead of us. It's still morning here!" Castiel exclaimed, his enthusiasm not yet dampened. "Have you seen the Eiffel Tower yet?"

"We saw it from the bus on the way over," Sam replied. "We can't see it out of our window right now, but we can see the Louvre. Don't worry, we'll take pictures for you."

"How is the jet lag?" Rafa wanted to know, interrupting her little brother.

"We took a nap when we got here," Lucifer replied. "So it's not so bad right now. It'll be hard to get up in the morning, though, I think."

"You should go out and stand in the sun in the morning," Castiel informed them. "Sunlight helps your body adjust to the new time."

"Maybe we'll go for a walk and find a cafe for breakfast," Sam replied, laughing. He loved how Castiel just knew all sorts of random facts, much as Sam had when he was a kid. When had he gotten so old that he'd forgotten most of them?

"In any case," seriously, what kid used 'in any case' as an actual phrase? "you should set the alarms on your phone, and try to fall asleep as soon as you can tonight. Forcing yourself to stick to the schedule of your new location is supposed to be very good for helping you adjust." Castiel beamed at them as he imparted wisdom.

"We will," Lucifer promised, although Sam wasn't sure how honest he was being. Getting up at 7AM Paris time--or even going to sleep at midnight Paris time--was not going to be that easy, and they could always visit the Mona Lisa first thing some other morning if they didn't make it to the museum at opening time.

The four chatted a while, until Rafa finally shooed Castiel away so the adults could talk about adult bills and jobs and kids. "You sure you're okay with him staying over?" Lucifer asked his sister.

Rafa smiled. "It is wonderful to have time with him again. Sure, Madison can not stay over," it turned out that there were all sorts of weird provisions about guests in place due to the fact that Castiel was adopted, "but that is fine with both of us. She encourages me to spend as much time as I can with my family, which I like very much."

Lucifer beat Sam to the next question. "Rafa, speaking of you know what happened with Mikey? He donated to our fund, and we were wondering why he suddenly had a change of heart."

Rafa glanced behind her, likely making certain that Castiel was out of earshot before leaning in slightly and lowering her voice. "Yes. He...called me, a few days ago. Apparently, he came home from work early and found Anna in bed having intercourse with their pastor."

"Shit." Lucifer made a face, while Sam just let out a pained grunt.

"So. They are working through that now. I believe Mikey is not feeling quite so superior to us 'sinners' right now. He is staying in a hotel room by himself as they decide what to do. He is lonely, and...concerned...that he may lose custody of his children," Rafa explained. Sam admired the fact that she did not sound happy about Michael's misfortune, even though she of all people deserved some schaudenfreude as far as her older brother was concerned.

"That...explains a lot," Lucifer murmured, as Sam reached out to put an arm around him. "Poor Michael."

"Indeed," Rafa agreed. "I have not told Castiel yet. Do you wish to tell him when you get back, or do you want me to tell him now?"

Lucifer and Sam exchanged glances. Sam considered what he'd read in all his teenage psychology books, and then said, "Maybe let him know that Michael and Anna are going through a rough time, but not tell him any details. I don't want him to get his hopes up about seeing Michael again, and then have them fall through if Michael and Anna work things out. What do you think, Luce?"

Lucifer was already nodding along with Sam. "Yeah. I think that's probably best. He doesn't need to know the details, and we shouldn't get his hopes up."

"Very well," Rafa said, nodding too. "I will let Castiel know that Mikey is having a rough time. He is not on the list of approved visitors for Castiel anyway, so it is not as if he could come over and talk to us. But. You two should be enjoying your honeymoon, not worrying about us. I am certain that things will work themselves out. Perhaps we will even be lucky enough to have our older brother back in our lives," she mused. "If not, perhaps that is for the best anyway. I will let you know if anything else happens."

"Thanks, Raffie," Lucifer told her. "Love you."

"I love you as well. Goodbye, Luci, Sam."

"Goodbye, Rafa," Sam replied, before disconnecting the call. He stared at the screen for a few minutes longer, then turned to his husband. He was a bit worried; he knew Lucifer was extremely empathetic. "You all right?" he asked.

Lucifer's brows were furrowed as he looked up at Sam. "I...I feel bad now, for being so angry with him earlier. I never wanted something like this to happen to him."

Sam tugged Lucifer a bit closer, and gave him a one-armed hug before kissing his forehead. "This didn't happen because you were angry with him, Luce. Hell, it might have started before he even found out you were still alive."

"I know," Lucifer said. He sounded miserable. "But still, I wished something bad would happen to him to show him that what we were doing wasn't wrong, and now--"

"Lucifer. It is not your fault," Sam said firmly. "I know you weren't talking about something like this when you wished for that. And even if you were, it didn't make it any more likely to happen."

Lucifer put his arms around Sam, and squeezed tight. "Sam?" he asked, now slightly muffled as his face was buried in Sam's shirt.

"What, sweetheart?"

"...Don't ever cheat on me. Please? If you--if you ever--end it with me first," Lucifer mumbled.

Sam's heart was breaking. "Lucifer Winchester. Look at me." He let go of his husband in order to tilt his head up so he could look directly into those pale blue eyes. "I. Will. Never. Hurt. You. Like. That. I couldn't." He brushed tears away from Lucifer's eyes and smiled at him. "I love you too much to ever do that to you. ...Except maybe with Josh Dallas, but can you blame me?" They had been watching lots of Once Upon a Time recently, since it was a show that Castiel could watch and enjoy too (even if he thought that Henry was delusional and not particularly bright).

Lucifer hiccuped, and then laughed, as Sam knew he would. "No," he admitted. "But you could at least try to talk him into a threesome."

It was Sam's turn to laugh, and then he stood, drawing Lucifer to his feet as well. "I think it's time I showed you -exactly- how much I love you, and we break in this hotel bed for something other than sleeping. What do you say?"

"Yes please," Lucifer replied, and that was the end of them talking for a while.

Chapter Text

They didn't manage to wake up early the next morning, but neither of them really minded. When they finally did manage to drag themselves out of bed, they went out and found a little café to have breakfast at, then went to the Louvre, focusing on the paintings on the first floor first. They were too late to be first in line to see the Mona Lisa, but it didn't matter because Lucifer was like a kid in a candy store and had to stare at every single one of the paintings they passed, babbling about each of them to the point where a few people confused him for an American tour guide and wandered along after he and Sam for a while.

Sam's face soon hurt from grinning; it was so amazing to see Lucifer like this, open and passionate and gesticulating like an actual Frenchman. The docents more or less adored Lucifer and told him a great deal of behind-the-scenes information, from preservation to restoration to the history of the painting (when he didn't already know it). Sam, of course, was enjoying the paintings and sculpture as well--he especially liked Diana of Versailles--but his enthusiasm just couldn't compare to Lucifer's. More than once, Sam had to gently wipe tears off of his husband's face.

In general, the French people they met--docents, museum goers, and so on--were nice and spoke fluent English, although they did meet a few who seemed annoyed that they hadn't bothered to learn French. No one batted an eye at the fact that Sam and Lucifer held hands (when Lucifer wasn't gesturing wildly) and occasionally exchanged light kisses. The space was cramped and there were a lot of people, but they made do.

They didn't see the Mona Lisa that morning/afternoon, but they saw a number of other famous paintings and sculptures. They were also directed by the docents to the nearby Museé d'Orsay, across the water from the Louvre and containing many of the more modern paintings that had once been housed in the Louvre, including some works by Picasso. Lucifer bought a book about the other museum from the Louvre's gift shop so he could further plan their sight-seeing.

Sam eventually insisted that they needed more food, so they left for a late afternoon lunch in a little bistro they found nearby. Sam ordered escargot this time, and forced Lucifer to take a tiny taste. To both their surprises, they rather enjoyed it. The texture wasn't as bad as they thought it would be, and otherwise the dish just tasted of garlic butter. Sam was still teasing Lucifer about 'stealing' his snails as they headed back to the Louvre to see more art.

Eventually, after dinner, they ended up back in their hotel room, arms around each other's waists and enjoying the view of the Louvre in the evening. "Sam...this is amazing. It's like I'm dreaming. I never, ever thought I'd be in France, let alone in an art museum there, let alone in the Louvre."

Sam kissed Lucifer's cheek before responding. Both of them had bad garlic breath by this point, as it had been a large component of both lunch and dinner, but neither of them minded. "I feel like I'm dreaming, too, watching my gorgeous husband enjoy himself so much."

"I love you."

"I love you too, sweetie."

"Bed?" Lucifer asked with a smile and a waggle of his eyebrows.

"I suppose," Sam replied in a long-suffering tone before laughing. Lucifer turned to kiss him hard, tugging him close, and Sam let himself relax into the embrace. Some days, Sam just couldn't believe his luck, that this amazing soul had been drawn to him just as strongly as he'd been drawn to Lucifer.

Sam walked backward toward the bed as they started undressing each other. Lucifer made Sam's T-shirt disappear as if by magic, and then he began kissing down Sam's neck as he worked on the taller man's belt. Sam let out a pleasured groan at the kisses while he pushed Lucifer's shorts and boxers down his legs. When he felt the bed at the back of his knees, he fell back onto it, raising his hips and legs to allow Lucifer to pull his own shorts and boxers off. Lucifer stripped out of his Indie band shirt, and then crawled on top of Sam. Sam looked up into black eyes with only a thin ring of blue around them and thought briefly about how beautiful they were before he put his arms around his husband and drew him down for another kiss.

For a while, they were content to kiss and touch and nibble at each other; it wasn't as if they were in any hurry. After some time, though, Lucifer broke one of their kisses and murmured, "Further back on the bed." Sam obeyed, wiggling his way back onto the bed at an angle, as he watched Lucifer retrieve the lube they'd 'hidden' from the maids in the nightstand. Lucifer poured a good amount into his hand, and then used it to slick up Sam's cock. Sam couldn't help but throw his head back and moan when his husband started flicking his piercing. Lucifer chuckled darkly (he'd been responsible for it, and he rarely wasted the opportunity to remind Sam of the fact), and then released Sam to open himself up. What with all their recent lovemaking, it didn't take him much time. Sam watched him, his large hands on his husband's hips now, groaning occasionally at the pleased look on Lucifer's face.

Lucifer looked a little like his namesake when he finally opened his eyes and grinned wickedly down at Sam, shuffling forward and taking hold of Sam's cock to guide it into his hole. They moaned in tandem as Lucifer finally slid down onto Sam. Once he was fully seated, he leaned forward to capture Sam's lips again. Sam took the opportunity to run his hands up and down Lucifer's back, which was now covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

They knew each other well enough that they started moving at the same time, Lucifer straightening and lifting himself up while Sam pressed his hips further down into the mattress. Sam smiled at Lucifer, who smirked back and then began moving in earnest. They didn't make much effort to be quiet; there hadn't been any complaints so far--the French seemed to be, well, more laissez faire about sex noises coming from hotel rooms.

Sam knew exactly what to do to drive his husband to go faster and be louder; he reached out and began tugging gently at the piercings in Lucifer's nipples, causing the other man to whimper and, yes, speed up. He moaned when Lucifer decided to return the favor--sort of, at least, as Sam still didn't have pierced nipples. Sam slid his hands around behind Lucifer to first knead his ass and then rub the area where they were connected, and smiled when Lucifer shuddered over top of him. Briefly, Sam thought back to the first time they'd had sex, in a similar position, and noted how much better it was now that they knew every little trick to make the experience better for both of them.

Speaking of which, he left one hand where it was, but brought the other around to grasp Lucifer's cock. He smeared the pre-come around with his thumb, and then began to give Lucifer--was it still called a reach-around when someone was riding you? In any case, Lucifer moaned loudly and threw his head back. "Not...gonna...last," he gasped out.

His words didn't stop Sam, who started playing with Lucifer's dick piercing in addition to everything else. A few moments later, Lucifer stiffened and came with a loud groan all over Sam and his hand. Sam helped his husband through his orgasm, then rolled the two of them over so he could chase his own, thrusting harder and faster until, after another minute or two, he came with a loud cry.

Blinking his eyes open, he looked down at Lucifer, who was smiling like a cat that's just eaten a canary. Sam leaned down to give his husband a kiss before carefully pulling out and then rolling over to flop down on the bed on his back. His chest heaved with exertion as he came down from his high.

"Mmmm." He heard, more than saw, Lucifer stretching. "Cuddles."

Sam snorted. "Clean-up, then cuddles," he insisted, still breathing heavily.

It was Lucifer's turn to sigh like one half of an old married couple. "Fine," he grumped good-naturedly, slowly pulling himself up into a sitting position and then heading to the bathroom to retrieve a warm, wet washcloth.

Sam watched him go, smirking to himself at the sight of his release trailing down one of Lucifer's thighs. Neither was really into come play, but sometimes the reminder of what you'd just done was hot.

Lucifer emerged from the bathroom with a wet washcloth, which he used to wipe Sam down--he'd already taken care of his own needs. Tossing the washcloth away, he crawled onto the bed, opened up the covers (as best he could, with Sam still starfished across the bed), and patted the place next to him. "Cuddles," he said firmly.

Sam, feeling cleaner, had to laugh as he got up and crawled under the covers so Lucifer could begin his nightly octopus imitation. "Fine. Come here, you cuddle monster, you," he teased as he pulled Lucifer close, running his hands slowly up and down his back. He felt the scars there, and tried not to frown. There was a reason Lucifer was always so touch-starved after they made love; his name was Zachariah, and Sam had to work hard to avoid wishing even more evil on the man.

"Night, Sam," Lucifer murmured into his neck, somehow managing to burrow even closer.

"Night, Luce," Sam whispered, using one of his long arms to turn off the lights.

Chapter Text

Sam and Lucifer finally saw the Mona Lisa the next morning, when they were able to get out of bed at a more reasonable local hour. The tiny painting had a big impact; Lucifer cried, and even Sam was sniffling. There was just something about the smile and the androgynous nature of the model that appealed to Lucifer in a way he wasn’t expecting. Of course, he’d seen plenty of pictures of the painting before, but even behind a rope and several layers of bulletproof glass, he thought he understood why so many people came so far to see it in person.

After they saw the famous painting by da Vinci, they picked up where they left off the day before, exploring the artwork of the Louvre. Lucifer leaned on Sam as they went from painting to painting in the slightly claustrophobic space, and Sam wrapped an arm around him.

Lucifer noticed that his fingers occasionally twitched of their own accord; he was itching to get home and try some of the methods and arrangements that he observed. He wanted to be one of the many artists who set up an easel in the museum and painted, but, sadly, all of his equipment was at home.

“You want to buy some paints and canvas?” Sam finally asked him, correctly interpreting one of his hand movements as a practice brushstroke.

Lucifer considered the offer. “Part of me really wants to. But I’m afraid I’d never want to leave because I’d want to paint everything,” he admitted. “Besides, I’m taking plenty of pictures. I can paint from those and from memory later.”

Sam gave him a one-armed hug. “If you’re sure,” he replied.

“Well...actually. I’d really like to paint the view from our window, so we had it as a memento. I can take pictures, but…” He trailed off, giving Sam an apologetic look.

His husband just laughed. “I’m sure we can find an art store around here. I should have suggested you bring everything, but I wasn’t sure how well it’d all work on an international flight. We can find a good shipping place and mail the canvases and everything home when you’re done.”

Lucifer knew his eyes had lit up, because Sam had the fond expression on his face that he always wore when Lucifer was geeking out about art. “I’ll try to just stick to one or two,” he promised, already deciding what he’d need to buy at the store--until he spotted the next painting. Gasping, he grabbed Sam’s hand and pulled him toward it. “St. John the Baptist!” he exclaimed by way of explanation. Sam just chuckled at his enthusiasm.

When they finally left the Louvre that day, they asked for directions to the nearest art shop, and then went to pick up what Lucifer needed. That evening, with the windows wide open, Lucifer painted a quick study of the view out of their window at sunset, as Sam watched; apparently the sight of his new husband painting in nothing but his low-slung boxers was compelling enough that he didn’t even try to look at the work he’d brought along on the trip. On Lucifer’s end, he didn’t mind at all when the light vanished, because his husband took him, gently but firmly, to bed.


The next day, they did a typical Paris sightseeing trip, as Lucifer was feeling a little guilty about trapping Sam in the Louvre for the first two days. They saw the Eiffel Tower, L’arc de Triomphe, and Notre Dame Cathedral. They didn’t pay much attention to the relics inside the beautiful church, but spent plenty of time enjoying the architecture and, of course, the paintings and sculptures. Sam decided to light a candle, while Lucifer chose not to.

The French people they met seemed to have two settings--welcoming, or Absolutely Fed Up With Tourists. The two of them chatted genially with the first group, and tried to avoid the second. Both were glad they hadn’t rented a car; from what they could see, Paris traffic seemed to be worse than Oakland traffic, and that was saying something. On the other hand, almost everything they ate was fresh and delicious, and the drink--well, even Sam had to admit that California wine didn’t hold a candle to French wine.

That evening, they Skyped with Castiel and Rafa, who assured them that they were doing fine. Castiel wanted to hear all about what they were seeing and what snails tasted like and whether or not they had climbed to the top of the Tower. He reminded them to be sure to take pictures of any insects they saw, which left Lucifer feeling a little guilty--he’d forgotten all about that particular request.

Rafa reported, after Castiel left, that Michael and Anna were still separated, and Michael wasn’t sure that they would reconcile even though he desperately wanted to. Apparently, Anna was claiming she was in love with the pastor and wanted to divorce Michael and marry the pastor instead. Michael was begging her to see a relationship counselor with him, but so far she’d refused. Rafa was doing her best to support Michael through this process, and Sam and Lucifer in turn did their best to support her.

The next day, they went to the Pantheon (Sam thoroughly geeked out about Voltaire and reminded Lucifer exactly why he loved his husband), and then spent most of the day in their room, with Lucifer painting and Sam reading some case files. Needless to say, they took the occasional ‘break’ from their work. A few brief trips to some nearby gardens over the course of the next couple of days--and there were some amazing gardens in Paris--netted enough bug pictures to ease Lucifer’s conscience with respect to Castiel’s hobby.

After that, Sam and Lucifer went across the river to the Museé d’Orsay, and saw the entire Impressionistic period spread out before them. Lucifer sometimes imitated the Impressionists’ style, so he insisted on seeing everything on display, and once again charmed the docents into taking them to a few tucked-away paintings that left Lucifer in literal rapture. Sam made several jokes about seeing that look on his husband’s face in other contexts, but there was no malice behind them; Lucifer just winked and promised to put the same look on Sam’s face later that evening.

Unfortunately for them, the days of their honeymoon raced by. They spent most of the rest of their last week in Paris at the Louvre (there was a great deal to see, plus, Lucifer insisted on viewing the Mona Lisa again) and the Museé d’Orsay. They ate enough gelato and French food that some of their clothes were tight by the end of the trip despite their nightly acrobatic activities, and Sam told Lucifer he was indeed looking forward to all the running he’d have to do to get back in shape. Overall, the trip was a life-changing experience for both of them.

Before they left, Lucifer carefully packed up his canvases (he’d ended up with six of varying sizes) and mailed them back to California. He donated the leftover art supplies, as he didn’t need any of them at home.

Their trip back was largely uneventful, although it was every bit as tedious as the trip to Europe had been. Sam texted Rafa and Castiel as soon as their flight finally landed in the San Francisco Airport to let them know that they had returned safely, and then they drove home. Ellen and Jo weren’t there, but had everything set up for them the way they liked it, and both Sam and Lucifer felt pretty spoiled as they climbed into their gigantic bed. They had plans to pick up Castiel and then the dogs the next day. Sam still had a couple of days before he had to go back to work (although not nearly as many as he’d like), while Lucifer was itching to get his hands back on his brushes and paint. These thoughts swirled around in their heads for mere moments before they fell asleep in each other’s arms--and began their happily ever after.