Struggling (1)

There was a circle of fire surrounding Lucifer. He did not move as it flickered around him; the light reflecting on his eyes shadowed his features in a way that made scarier the wounds on his face. His expression was sour, full of unruly anger that belonged solely to a holy being, to something Else. Everything and everyone around him looked as if they wanted to come closer, marveled by the power that filled the air, wanting to taste it better, but, at the same time, it was as if they wanted to escape in fear, even the flames seemed to move away from him, wanting to put the most distance between them. It felt as if the earth was holding its breath, waiting for Lucifer's next move in awe and fright.

Aaron let a shaky gulp of air; it was terrifying. He had never seen Lucifer like this, so inhuman and surreal. The look of a predator as it saw the petty animal that it had stopped in front of him, looking ready to kill it, to destroy it for the lack of respect it had shown him by standing in his path. A raptor preparing to strike. It made the hair of his arms rise, his mouth dry.

He should be scared, Aaron thought, he should be afraid. And he was. But a strongest, louder, part of him was worried about the injuries that looked painful on Lucifer's skin, at the fire that somehow seemed to constrict his form, at the lonely desperation he could see deep inside his gaze. He wanted to run towards him and caress his wounds, to murmur 'What had happened?' That part overpowered the smaller one, the one that screamed in horror, that wanted to run ─ but he had always ignored it so why would he start listening to it now?

Lucifer's eyes turned towards him as if he had sensed his fear. Aaron tried to move forward, towards the fire that circled him, making Lucifer's gaze soften at the sides as they locked eyes, but he couldn't. He couldn't even move his head because someone, something, was grabbing him. He struggled, realizing with dread that there was a chest pressed against his back, flushed against his body, grabbing him by the neck. Another hand was gripping him firmly by his left arm. He tried to see behind him, wanting to know who was the one that gripped his head tight, but it only caused the hold to tighten around his face until the feeling of his brain wanting to pour from his ears was all he could feel. He groaned.

"Stop," Lucifer growled and the windows trembled slightly. Aaron clenched his eyes shut, screaming when his ears rang painfully, wanting nothing more but to cover them between his hands.

When he finally opened his eyes ─ his audition still deafened ─ he saw from his peripheral vision someone looming on his right. He tried to jerk his head around to see it better, being close as they were, but he couldn't see his face, instead, he noticed the old gun it held as it moved, and, for some reason, his eyes widened in fear. His body seemed scared of the small weapon, scared of the damage it could cause. He didn't know why or how, but he knew it was dangerous.

Aaron tried to move his right hand, the one that wasn't in the other's grip, towards the gun, wanting to throw it away, but pain shot through his arm. He looked down at it, startled. By the time he looked up, it was too late. The barrel was already against his temple.

Time passed quickly after that, but at the same time, it went slower. The sound of Lucifer's shout, his ears exploding, bright light that blinded him painfully; he tried ─wanted─ to close his eyes but then realized in a painful realization that it came from inside him. A fire spread through his veins, trickling heat welled in his bones. It hurt, it hurt too much. He couldn't take it. It came too quickly, too─

And then it was gone.

Aaron opened slowly his eyes, a headache already forming against his temple. His breath was slightly shallow as he blinked in an attempt to clear the tears that were still wet against his cheeks. A cruel reminder of his dream.

He wanted to rub his throbbing head with a hand, make soft caresses at his temple (Marcus used to do it when he was young whenever he was sick) but noticed the leather straps on his wrists that stopped him. He tried to stand up, but he ended groaning when his head spun too fast. Aaron placed his head again against the hard surface, noticing for the first time the soft breeze that blew against his arms. Fright tried to settle in his stomach as chills ran involuntarily through his body, but he tried to calm himself, to think in all the possibilities before panicking.

He raised an eyebrow while his lips twitched unconsciously when an idea occurred to him. Lucifer had a wicked sense of humor, it shouldn't surprise him to wake tied (and how fucked up was that?). Lately, the times had increased with him awaking to find Lucifer's cool skin pressed against him, nose nuzzling gently his neck, leg straddling possessively his waist, hand under his shirt caressing his side. It became normal. And the headache didn't surprise him either, he was already used to wake up to feel feverish and tired. But his naked arms? He usually wore long sleeves, the only time he used a t-shirt being when he slept. Feeling the cool wind against his arm was a little unsettling. It seemed that someone had torn his sleeves away, leaving him like that before strapping him. Lucifer wouldn't do that. He usually took into account his discomfort, never pressing his boundaries. It was true that he wasn't so terrified of the idea of Lucifer tying him on a bed for fun as he thought he should be, but still.

He knew that if he explained Lucifer about his pain and embarrassment he would stop playing, perhaps would even apologize and give him soft kisses on his face while he healed his pain.

"Lucifer?" Aaron croaked.