betterthanaplan | Lucifer's mansion, Wednesday evening

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Lucifer's mansion, Wednesday evening

It was Wednesday, and Duke had spent the day primarily at the mansion, talking to an architect and an engineer about were and how to get an indoor pool with plenty of natural light into the building's basement.

Now he was in the kitchen, cooking up a nice, simple shrimp scampi, dressed up with the inclusion of fresh pasta. It was one of his first forays into making his own pasta, and while the noodles were definitely a bit on the uneven side, he was pleased with the results.

Now all he needed was his boyfriend, and Date Night could get properly underway!

[for him as is mentioned]

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“I, uh. Don’t. Most of the time,” Duke said, not looking at Lucifer but into a middle distance. “I never really noticed before, because like. That was just how life was. But when we. When you have me tied up. I do. Feel safe I mean. In a way I haven’t felt before. I tried to explain that to her, the feeling safe thing. And she thought I was saying that she didn’t feel safe just being with me, which wasn’t what I meant. . . .”

"Sounds like your average patented Cape Rouge crew conversational confusion," Lucifer said (not in small part because he just liked alliterating), but then he reached across the table, putting his hand down palm side up.

Duke took it and gave it a squeeze.

“We are very good at talking around each other. Or . . . I am, anyway. You two seem to communicate fine.”

"Well, Octavia and I are no longer being traumatized by our own lives twice a year," Lucifer said. "So we've had enough time to be properly therapized and processed."

He gave Duke's hand a squeeze.

"But you're making steps," he said. "And I am-- very-- glad I can make you feel safe."

“I’m definitely trying,” Duke said. “I wanted to know what made her feel like that. I’m pretty sure I don’t, anymore. If I ever did.”

Lucifer took a bite of food and swallowed, pondering how much he could say. How much he should say.

"When I am with her on our date nights, it usually comes down to power," he said finally. "Who has it. And who comes to heel."

He picked up his glass of wine. "That involves some feelings of safety for her, I think. Very different ones, depending on the dynamic. Much like there are certain forms of safety she feels around you. Because, I can't believe that I'm saying this, but it isn't always about sex and how you have sex with her."

“That . . . makes sense. She’s kind of a connoisseur of types of intimacy.”

"She is," Lucifer agreed gently. "So perhaps a better question than 'what makes you feel safe when you're having sex' with the implied 'and how can I do that for you' is 'what does sex mean to you?' and, at some other point, 'in an ideal world, what would you want our sexual intimacy to feel like'."

His hand long since retrieved, he now made a gesture with it.

"Her answers may surprise you."

“My therapist suggested having a needs, wants, and no-goes conversation,” Duke said. “Like, both of us make our lists and compare them, so we’re definitely on the same page.”

"That... could... work," Lucifer said. Dubiously. "...Or she could find the lists a touch impersonal and pressuring."

He flashed Duke an apologetic smile. "In my not so expert opinion, I'd say the most important thing is both of you listening and nobody jumping in to fill things in for the other."

Edited 2024-12-01 19:06 (UTC)

“Not exactly one of my stronger skills lately,” Duke said wryly. “But it’s worth a shot.”

Lucifer shot him a wry look of his own.

"It's Octavia," he said. "And trust me, I know it's incredibly hard to internalize this, but usually what she wants is just to be heard on her own terms."

“It would help if she actually offered things without waiting for exactly the right phrasing first,” Duke said. “Or if I were better at finding that phrasing.”

"It's not as hard as it seems, once you get the hang of it," Lucifer said, and then ate the last few bites of shrimp while he could. "You know how if you're trying to get an animal to like you, you have to sit there and wait for it to come to you?"

Duke nodded slowly. “I can’t decide if she’d be flattered by that comparison or not.”

Lucifer shrugged.

"Your problem is you get in your head, and the moment a situation seems to go pear-shaped, you want to fix it," he said, "and then instead of fixing it, you spook her, because you moved. If that... makes any sense."

Duke grimaced. “Way too much. I know I can’t fix everything, and I’m trying not to try so hard. But then I’m trying hard in the other direction, and she asks why I’m so stiff and quiet.”

"I suppose weed wouldn't be a solution," Lucifer mused out loud.

He sat back, watching Duke.

“Not without talking that over with her first,” Duke said, shaking his head. “Nothing for it, babe. I’m just gonna have to get over myself.”

Lucifer sighed, then flashed him a fond, only slightly exasperated smile.

"Just remember she will love you even if you do cock this up," he said. "We both will."

"Yeah, I know," Duke assured him. "I just wonder sometimes if you two will always like me."

"You are occasionally frustrating," Lucifer said. "But we have known that for years, and yet we still very much like you. Relax, you silly sod."

"Yeah, well, everything I say doesn't seem to piss you off," Duke muttered, picking up his wine glass to take a hefty swig. "Sometimes, with her . . . I really wonder why she still puts up with me."

"Because she finds you delightful a great deal of the time," Lucifer said, watching him. "You have good instincts with her. It's when you get too far into your own head about something that things go wrong, as far as I can tell."

"So . . . less thinking, more drinking?" Duke asked wryly. "When did this all become so complicated?"

When you made it complicated, baby. That was his point.

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